From Salinas Grandes to the Quebrada de Humahuaca
we had to climb up to another pass at around 4000 metres and then
wind our way downhill through increasingly spectacular scenery.
Quebrada means "ravine" and there are plenty of them in
northwest Argentina but the wide valley running north and south of
the town of Humahuaca with its multiple gorges, colourful and
dramatic rock formations, as well as pre-hispanic culture is a big
crowd puller. First stop for us was the little town of
Purmamarca, which has some of the most colourful mountains and, as
a result, is overwhelmed by tourism.
Purmamarca is noted for the colours of the surrounding hills
Genuine ethnic products? . . . . . . but our
Brazilian sunhats are fine - snapped by an
American tourist at the viewpoint
We continued on to Tilcara, and found a posada to stay at
for a couple of nights. Down to under 2,500m (still higher than
Ben Nevis and Snowdon combined!) we felt a lot better.
The dusty town of Tilcara is not impressive at first sight.
Almost all the buildings are low rise and built of adobe (mud)
brick. Some of the roads are cobbled but most are just dirt. The
wind picks up the dust and is a pain for us contact lens wearers!
But the people are friendly and welcoming. Agriculture is their
mainstay but tourism is increasingly important. Boutique hotels
and restaurants catering to tourist tastes abound. We even found
a restaurant serving llama kebabs that had some flavour. There's a
hilltop pucara (fortress village) built in pre-hispanic
times to ward off invaders, including the Incas, but finally
succumbing to the Spanish. Parts of the ruined site have been
reconstructed but it's much more interesting to wander around the
rubble, and enjoy the commanding views of the valley, wondering
what it was like to live there.
Overlooking road and river, the pucara has llama
pens below
and is defended by cactus fields
We drove north for a brief excursion back into the
tropics - the furthest north we've been since Ubatuba. The road
is good but busy with traffic to and from Bolivia. Further up the
valley, the traditional market town of Humahuaca is very
attractive (apart from anything else, less dusty) and not so
touristy.
Humahuaca has an incongruous modern monument to the fighters
for independence . . .
. . . as well as an old centre (with
friendly police) . . . .
. . and yet more cordon cacti
We diverted onto a climbing ripio road in search of
another ruined pucara but couldn't find it. Our trusty
"Guia Turistica Argentina" - an excellent publication produced by
the Automobile Club of Argentina - had let us down. Or maybe it
was our Spanish...
Returning to Tilcara in the late afternoon we went to another
local sight, called the "devil's throat" (he gets everywhere).
It's a narrow ravine with a walk up a riverbed to a waterfall.
The devil's thoat bit is very exciting with a steep, narrow
pathway and no handrails - definitely not for the faint-hearted or
vertigo-prone. (Gavin - who we often think of at such places -
would have been paralysed.) Flip-flops - the favoured footwear of
many visitors when visiting such places - are decidedly hazardous.
Looking down the ravine - no pics of the waterfall (done
those) or the climb down (too frightening)
The next stage of our Grand Tour was the wine-growing area
southwest of Salta - the Valles Calchaquies. We drove directly to
the town of Cafayate from Tilcara - about 370 km. Our route took
us on a fast, paved road south to the provincial capital, (San
Salvador de) Jujuy, first through splendid mountain scenery, then
winding our way down to fertile plains. From Jujuy we continued
on what we thought was a main road to Salta - called La Cornisa -
but it's actually a narrow, winding road that wends it's way
through tree-covered mountains (and although slow made a nice
change on a hot day). Eventually emerging from the trees just
north of Salta we found ourselves driving down another wide,
gravelly river valley. Being a hot Sunday afternoon, the river
bed was full of parked cars and people sitting under tents and
sunshades, or bathing in the shallow muddy river. So far from the
seaside, this is as good as it gets, with not much natural shade
other than the ubiquitous willow trees. Although close to the
tropics, palms are rare.
After a stop for lunch we drove on, straight through the
almost-deserted city of Salta and into the fertile Lerma valley,
where the streets are lined with pretty pink flowering trees and
tobacco seems to be the dominant crop. Then everything changes as
the road winds through the Quebrada de las Conchas with yet more
fascinating rock formations and colours. We stopped to visit a
couple of the sign-posted features where you can walk through a
crack in the cliff and/or scramble over rocks to admire more
rocks. There are no facilities but with a good road nearby lots
of people visit and graffiti is a big problem. Presumably some
tourists always have a can of spray paint handy?
The 'amphitheatre' (tourists like the names) . .
. . . . with only one way out
Continuing on for another 50 km or so the road opens out into the
wide valley, with the promise of vineyards and the town of
Cafayate.
Those don't look like vines, but we must be getting close
Before coming here we knew little about the wines of
Argentina, except that Mendoza is a hub. What makes the vineyards
and wines of the Salta region remarkable is that they are not only
the highest altitude but also the lowest latitude production in
the world. These extremes result in a climate that produces very
flavoursome, high alcohol wines. The dominant white wine, using
the Torrentes grape, is unique to Argentina. It has a distinctive
fruity, floral flavour which Rachel likes, but Paul prefers the
Malbec!
Not many of the bodegas in Cafayate were open to visitors
during Christmas week so we had a gentle introduction to
wine-tasting there. First we visited the big Etchart winery
(producing 6 million bottles a year) and did a tour and tasting in
Spanish. We understood enough to get a good introduction. The
vineyards and winery are immaculate and the wines are very
drinkable.
The immaculate Etchart bodega
But more fun was our visit to the little family-run bodega of
Salvador Figueroa, producing just 5000 bottles a year from a few
hectares. The bodega is a small shed and the owner is
very welcoming - used to speaking slow Spanish to foreigners - and
Paul thought the two wines were excellent (Rachel was driving.)
Cafayate is only at 1500 metres altitude so next we wanted to
investigate the really high altitude vineyards around the town of
Cachi. At this point we once again joined Ruta 40 - which I've
now discovered has nothing to do with Motorcycle Diaries
but at over 5000 km long is seen as a challenge by motorcyclists -
heading north, with another exciting quebrada on the way.
The road to Cachi is a dusty route but the views for the
daring are fantastic
. . . and of the daring
Not quite sure what the sign refers to - it looks like
mountains to me
Going up - vineyards at about 2000 metres
Are we nearly there yet? Well actually no - it's still over
600km to the Bolivian border where Ruta 40 ends
|
