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So, the only reason we have been in Tilcara so long is because we heard about this gaucho festival and wanted to have a nosy. At 2 o’clock v&j went down there but no one had arrived yet. hmm festival washout? A plan of action was decided, we would drink a bottle of wine then head down there. As all good British plans go.

Back at the hostel the plan was in full swing in fact the plan was experiencing the ‘snowball’ effect, there was now 12 people sat round a table with a few more bottles than anticipated getting hammered. 6 o’clock came and passed before everyone managed to finish the table of wine and head out to the fiesta.

The sun had well and truly gone, the wind had whipped up and and at 2000 metres above sea level, it was freezing. Still we braved the cold and made it to the fiesta. We watched a load of gauchos chase a couple of calf’s around a pen with lassos. Have to admit we had pictured big brawly men wrestling bulls rather than clumsily being knocked over by a petrified calf. V cried when a calf collapsed with exhaustion. This is all we had time for before frostbite set in and we were forced back to the safety of inside.

Spent the rest of the night playing the drinking version of the card game ‘President’ in a mix of terrible English and Spanish. TOMA!

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