Mission Salta

Agent Señor Hans reporting:

After arriving in Salta and scouting out the town for a day or two with Agent Monique for enemy activity, mainly from the sunny terrace of the New Time Café, I decided it was time for action. The rumours of possible malicious intent around Salta were becoming more frequent.

Fresh agents Maartje and Sander, who I recruited in Sucre Bolivia, were called in and the three of us rented a "Volkswagen Gol" (no typo) to investigate the area, keeping a low profile. Before we even left Salta, suspicions were raised that the French were involved. We were constantly tailed by derelict 70s Peugeots and Renaults, driven by dark-haired personas with dubious driving styles ...

Our first target was the village of San Antonio de los Cobres, which we reached after a few hours of splendid views and bad roads, losing the Frenchies in the process, using the common knowledge that a French car can´t even scale a speed bump without breaking down.

The village was a let down. There was not much to do, let alone anything suspicious by unsavoury elements. But bad behaviour had already occured a few miles south. Already having scaled the 4000 meter pass to San Antonio, we planned to take the 800 meter higher pass south as the shortest route to the next target village of Cachi. It was closed. The enemy had beaten us to the pass, rendering it unusable for anything but a 4x4. We had to go back through the canyon, losing valuable time.

Looking for a place to stay the night south of Salta, we discovered the enemy had struck again. Hostelerias were closed or couldn´t been found. They were forcing us back to Salta, with a vicious trap probably waiting for us. So we did the unthinkable. Already late in the day, we decided to daringly cross the Parque Nacional de Los Cardones west to Cachi. Despite sandy rocky roads, cloudy passes and darkness we managed to reach the vibrant town late in the evening.

Apparently this had blindsided the enemy. We doubled back a bit towards the national park to check out the "cactus army" and the stupendous views we missed in the darkness of the night before, but no sign of bad stuff. So for the rest of the day we performed the standard spy activities: checking in into luxury hotels, lounging by the pool, tasting the local produce and enjoying the sight of the masses of young Argentinian girls in Cachi who seemed to have two main hobbies: having wonderfully sexy legs and showing as much of it as possible :-)

But duty called and there was one more possible hotbed of threatening activity to investigate: Cafayate in the south. The weather gods were clearly with the enemy. It had rained all night and still rained in the morning. The sandy rollercoaster road south was littered with huge pools of water and even bigger patches of mud. And although joy and fun were being had slipping and sliding along the river bank south, the enemy was not idle.

Close to the village of Angastaco they struck. Waiting on the other side of a blind curve with a huge 4x4, Agent Sander had no chance. They struck us front left side to front left side on the muddy road, leaving our vehicle inoperable whilst being able to escape themselves. We were stranded.

But not for long. Angostaco was on our side and with help of the locals and fellow traveller-spies we were dry in the local Hosteleria, sipping warm drinks looking at the rainy road awaiting our replacement vehicle. At midnight it came. We were back in action !

And what action: the next day was sunny and bright, and as we pulled into the lovely shady plaza of Cafayate, the blows of the day before were all but forgotten. The enemy, assuming us eliminated, was nowhere to be seen, so we enjoyed the vineyard-filled valleys of the region, took in an ancient ruin as well and sped back to Salta in high spirits and impeccable style.

It wasn´t over yet. Back in Salta the criminal mastermind finally revealed himself. It was the very evil rent-a-car man himself ! Although we clearly had maximum damage payment clause in our contract, he wanted us to pay for the entire damage of the car, which was more than twice that sum. This was the final battle, mano a mano, Agent Señor Hans vs Evil-Rent-a-Car-Man. I had sent Agents Maartje and Sander to their 6 ´o clock bus, having only so much time myself as transportation to my next assignment would leave at 8 sharp from the same local terminal.

I went in for the kill with all the logic at my disposal. My travels in South America here had already tought me however, that the concept of logic had not yet caught on in these parts, so I had no success there. My wanderings had also shown me one that was effective though: the "man in uniform" (preferably with whistle). My man in uniform didn´t even use his whistle and was pretty effective indeed in explaining the "maximum damage" concept to the Evil Mastermind. The forces of good won the day ! Or did they ? Would our hero reach his next mission in time ?!?

When I left the police station at the plaza, the clock showed 10 to 8, while the sky opened up to pour down its rain. No taxi in sight, probably all being occupied by enemy agents, and an 11 minute run to the terminal. The bus was just pulling out when an out-of-breath Agent Señor Hans threw himself on the windshield ... and while it picked up speed south I looked down at myself, drenched but in big luxury leather seat, smiled and thought: "Agent Señor Hans, you look damn sexy when your trousers are wet ...".