- Today was the day to explore the City. Walked around the City and surrounding areas in the morning. By now I can confidently say that not a lot of Chinese/Asians visit Jujuy since (1) I have yet to meet a single Chinese in Jujuy, (2) People on the streets give me this weird look, as though they have never seen a Chinese in their lives before.
- In every tourist city, there is always a slum-ish area not shown on the map. Outside the downtown area of Jujuy was a bridge connecting the city to another district, and there are stairs on both ends of the bridge which lead to the slum-ish residential area. Half of the houses/huts have no roofs and those that have tins roofs have bricks stacked on them so they won´t get blown away. I walked down the stairs and up came a barking dog, and another. Okay, I admit I am chicken, but the thought of getting biten by these potentially rabies-dog scared me (and these are just two of the many dogs in the village). I turned back ... yikes.
- Never imagined that lunch would be such an adventure. Thanks to Lonely Planet, I walked to the corner of Alvear & Balcare (Mercado Municipal) looking for an inexpensive eatery that serves a regional specialty in Argentina called ´chicharron con mote´(stir-fried pork with boiled maize). No such eatery existed, so I kept walking and finally went into a grocery store to ask where I can try this specialty. They pointed me to a restaurant Micarca 10 blocks down and when I went there, I was told they don´t serve the dish. This time I was given the names Restaurants Rutu 9 and Chung King, 15 blocks back to where I started served them, so I started my expedition again. I arrived at Rutu 9, which was temporarily closed for cleaning. At Chung King, the server told me Rutu 9 was the only place he knew which served the dish. I was dead hungry by then and I could easily have ordered something else, but I wasn´t ready to give up. I walked BACK to Rutu 9, elated to find the sign 'Abierta' hanging on the door. Thank God I finally have my food.
- Had an early drink with Mo from the hostel at 8-ish pm. Bars at Argentina do not open until 9, 10 pm, but Mo had to catch a super early bus tomorrow for Chile. He was a photographer, very well traveled, and it was fun to hear about the different stories of his travel.
