The approaching sound of drums and chanting voices came into the hostel breakfast room from the street below. I and a few others moved out upon the balcony to look; and Ruth and Raul downstairs on reception where out on the pavement looking. Another procession of pilgrims were coming along the street, this one bearing Molino banners, a village around two-hundred kilometres south west of the provencial capital. There were whistles and a float vehicle with humming generator and booming bass speakers which drowned out the lively chatter of Ruth and Raul as it passed. The procession continued towards the city centre with a trail of traffic behind. In the days to come, there'll be more processions of pilgrims walking from villages all over the provence; here for "La Fiesta de Senora de Milago" this Tuesday afternoon, the fifteenth of September; it's a kind of religious thanks giving for the city being spared destruction from earthquakes since it's founding.

I thought I should be doing something cultural today: go to a museum, something like that; so, around quarter past ten, I set off walking towards the plaza. Ten minutes later I saw lots of pilgrims and the dispersed reminants of the Molino procession spread out along the southside of the plaza in front of the big white arched colonade building. I continued walking, west along Calle Casero, two blocks to Casa de Hermandes on the corner of predestrian shopping street Florida, which houses the city's museum. There I spent the rest of the morning going from room to room, looking at the exhibits and reading the Spanish text, finding it interesting.

The city was found on the 16th of April 1582, by request of the viceroy of Peru, Francesco de Tolido, in the valley of Salta for it's favourable climate and agricultural protencial to feed the mining region Potosi to the north. It isn't known for certain the origin of the word Salta, but it's thought by historians to be the name of the Indian nation living in the valley at the time of the conquest. The city was called "San Felipe de Lerma en La Valle Salta"; San Felipe for the king of Spain, and Lerma, the founder. It is said that Hermandes de Lerma was not popular among his neighbours, perhaps owing to the viceroy's high regard for him; so, he was soon forgotten after his time and the original name shortened, becoming simply Salta thereafter.

By 1700 most of Lerma's settlement of simple adobe and thatch houses were replaced by more permanent streets and brick houses with terrace roofs. And it became an important stop between Peru and the vast lowland area to the east of the Andes; providing draw animals and supplies for the long trek to the River Plate and the outpost Buenos Aires. In 1783 it became the seat of government for the region of Tucuman. But after liberation from Spain, regional influence moved to the city Tucuman, three hundred kilometres to the south east. The railway reached Tucuman in 1876 but it took a further fifteen years for it to continue to Salta. There's a photograph of that day: a jubilant crowd of officials and onlookers in front of the first locomotive to pull into the station under a cloud of black smoke. There's also a photo of the house-Casa de Hermandes-which looked to be a bar at the time: stood in the open doorway there's a man of indian origin smartly dressed in wide-brimmed black hat and waitcoat with rolled up shirt-sleeves, smiling at the camera while three boys between twelve and twenty and a beat policeman stand in the street looking on. Everybody dressed well for the camera then. The men suits and top hats, the women tight girdled with dresses flowing wide to the ground and wearing big flowery wide-brimmed hats. European fashion which would be sweaty and uncomfortable in summertime I would think. A lot of the faces are European and I read in the text how Salta recieved it's share of the massive influx of immigrants from Europe and elsewhere that came to Argentina for a better future as the country's economy was booming from the 1870s up to the outbreak of World War 1. Other photos are of streets-scenes, streets which haven't changed much except for horsedrawn vehicles and early motorcars. The big arched colonade building I passed in the plaza was then an arcade of shops with shopsigns and advertising hording.

At lunchtime I try not eating steak, but was feeling hungry, not having eaten meat for two days. The meat-less choice here in Salta is pretty good. The traditional fare of the Andes such as ground corn seasoned and rapped in corn-leave, called Humita; thing is, it's usually served as a starter and you've to munch through quite a few to feel full. Pizza is nice depending on the estabishment, and the homemade ice-cream parlour is a big institution here in Argentina. There's one such parlour opposite Alarez on the corner of Avenida San Martin a few block along from the hostel. In the end I'd a Lomo Completo-steak sandwich in named restaurant; and afterwards, this afternoon I'm feeling tired and sleepy......There'll be even more steak this evening, at the hostel barbacue.