The plus side of listening to weak tracks on an album is that you appreciate the next song so much more. So when the ‘Electioneering’ of central Argentina changed to the ‘Climbing Up the Walls’ of the northwest (separated by 24hrs of bus travel), we were pretty pleased. We were greeted in Cafayate by dirt roads, a neat main square and friendly locals – all of which contributed to its appeal. There was also a cat at the hostel! Our main reason for visiting was to cycle the Quebrada de las Conchas, a Mars-like desert landscape through which the highway between Cafayate and Salta winds. We hired bikes and took the bus to the Devil’s Throat rock formation, 50km out of town. Our deadline was 4.30pm as this is when the bikes had to be back, and initially this seemed very generous. However, during the middle 27km it seemed that every bend in the road delivered even more impressive scenery and we stopped so many times for photos (and once for delicious homemade empanadas) that the last 13km became a time trial finish (I won). We treated ourselves to the signature dish of the area, wine infused ice cream, once we returned to town.
Salta made for a pleasant one night stopover as we continued north from Cafayate. The main plaza was one of the most attractive we had seen in Argentina. It happened to be a Saturday, which meant Carnaval celebrations were on and I was excited to get a second shot at seeing the festival after its cancellation due to rain in Gualeguaychu. Alas, halfway into the four block walk to get dinner, a massive storm hit. The restaurant we got to was closed due to flooding and when the newly formed road river began to consume the paths, we made a run for it back to the hostel. The storm settled in for the night, so no Carnaval for us.
The following day we visited the Museum of High Mountain Archaeology, which had numerous Incan artifacts and presented information on their traditions, including that of child sacrifice. The museum preserves the mummies of three Incan children who were sacrificed and buried atop the Mount Llullaillaco. The mummies were discovered in 1999 and we were able to see one on display (the ‘Lightning Girl’), which was fascinating, confronting and also a little creepy. You could still see her teeth.
From Salta we took a three hour bus north to the small village of Purmamarca and its Hill of Seven Colours. We only had a few hours here but this was enough to visit the main viewpoint and walk the quieter loop behind the hill. Our onward bus was due to depart at 9pm, and clearly the locals knew what was in store when they all sprinted to the bus upon its arrival at the terminal. We were last on board. The bus was so full that we were wedged uncomfortably between humans and railings in the stairwell next to the driver for most of the journey. In fact we were lucky to make it on the bus at all – it was only after a lot of waiting and yelling from the bus driver that people shifted just enough for us to squeeze on board.
Not to be outdone by Purmamarca, the main attraction in Humahuaca is the Serrania del Hornocal, also referred to as the Hill of 14 Colours. I’m not sure that it had double the colours, but it was certainly impressive, despite looming storm clouds and minimal sunlight. The viewpoint is at 4300m elevation which made me feel like a 75 year old smoker as I trudged up the hill back to the car.
The northwest corner of Argentina was surprisingly beautiful and a little unexpected as most of the tourism images of landscapes in Argentina are of either Iguazu Falls or Patagonia. This area was the last taste of a massive country that really has it all –cosmopolitan cities, wineries, snow-capped mountains, desert and glaciers.
And so as our time in Argentina drew to a close, we hopped on a bus to the border and hoped for a smooth crossing into Bolivia. At least we had a seat this time.
Erin
dred 