I stop in the peaceful village of Cafayate, westwards from the Salta-Tucuman diagonal. A break I live like the last corner of tranquillity before going back to Buenos Aires. A particular taste for my last round-the-world stage. I have an appointment at the Ruta 40 guesthouse to see again Daniel I had met a little bit more northwards in the village of Humahuaca. A large smile lights our faces as we see each other, then I put my stuffs in the dorm. I am with a Canadian with whom decide to cycle in the quebrada of Cafayate, the next day.
Each one of us hire a bike in the travel agency of the guesthouse and we ask the transport company "El Indio" to drop us off at the kilometer 47 in front of the entrance of la garganta del diablo. One hour by bus, we take the bikes out of the luggage compartment, we reassemble the wheels and head for the devil’s throat, a rocky, red-layered canyon ; the ways goes up and ends in a cylinder of melted bricks. We enjoy the coolness that the stone sends back. An immersion in the shadow of the canyon before dipping into the torrid heat that waits for us at the beginning of the stony corridor.
We take back our bikes and start the opposite way of the coach. The next stop is called the amphitheatre. A whirlwind dug the stone which from now on shelters a folk band that came to make resonate their catchy melodies in the cavity. The voices echo in the chimney. We mount again our metallic instruments and ride the asphalt ribbon that unfolds in the quebrada. The burning sun bounces on the red of the eccentric mounds which gush out from the ground. We swallow the kilometers and the strap of nature keeps on its lateral scrolling. The vineyards take the place of the inert shapes of the quebrada. The area attracts a large number of tourists and has a specific vine, the torrontés.
In the evening, we make a party at the guesthouse with the different guests. A puff of energy. And still this same unique savour for me. The one of the last moments of a great round-the-world adventure.
Keyword - South America -
Wednesday 19 December 2007
bike and sun in the Cafayate quebrada
By dorian on Wednesday 19 December 2007, 16:08 - RTW-Argentina
Saturday 15 December 2007
the palette of colors of the Humahuaca quebrada
By dorian on Saturday 15 December 2007, 10:03 - RTW-Argentina
Change of scenery, I leave this area of Argentina, bordering Brazil and Paraguay to go to the Andean northeast. After a stop in the city of Salta, I head for the Humahuaca quebrada where a set of tiny villages stretch out along the canyon. The Argentinians who lives in these lands have much more similarities with their Bolivian neighbours than with the distant porteños (inhabitants of Buenos Aires). The quebrada-built-in asphalted road leads me up to the village of Humahuaca. The dusty alleyways weave in and out of the whitewashed buildings. I live in the Posada El Sol hostel, an architecture jewel, simple and local, nestled in the bottom of the village. The overhead colourful hill overlooks the village. A heaven to rest or to immerse oneself in the Andean culture.
The next day, departure for the village of Iruya through a bumpy, earthy road. We cross a 4000m-plus pass. We are geographically at the beginning of the Altiplano, this high Andean plateau that towers between 3000 and 5000m high. The village stands in the only flat corner of the canyon. All the rest is only stone-draped hill and dried riverbed. A promontory-topping shrine and a white cross enlighten and protect the villagers. The time seems to stop and the daily public bus is the only link with the other southern villages.
Tilcara and Purmamarca complete the list of the villages of this valley. While the first one entices the Andean-craft-lovers tourists, the second one nestles in the spurs of the seven-color hill. A path goes up and down behind the village. I plunge into the earth and stone rainbow which covers the hillocks of the route. The night, zampoñas, sikus and guitar propagate the melodious waves of the Andean music in one of the restaurants of the village. The music is gut-wrenching. I walk out the restaurant, the music keeps on resounding inside my head ; my feet lift up the dust of the church-lined alleyways in the silence of a soft night. It's hard to think that in one week I'll set foot on the big malls among the crowd, two days before Christmas.
Before definitely leaving the quebrada, a small local travel agency offers an excursion to las salinas grandes. A miniature replica of its Bolivian neighbour, the salar of Uyuni. A flat, white expanse stands out with the tormented sides of the quebrada, salt in abundance cracks under our steps. A white desert whose salt is partly exploited to end in a box, laid on a table.
Saturday 8 December 2007
The ruins of San Ignacio Mini
By dorian on Saturday 8 December 2007, 09:58 - RTW-Argentina
The ruins of the Jesuit missions of San Ignacio Mini which enhance on the UNESCO World Heritage list are unfortunately located too close to the Iguazu falls to appreciate the true value of them. The view of the waterfalls, yesterday, was such a rush of emotions that it's better to plan a break to recover and to have again the capacity of marveling. Within this context, the ruins of San Ignacio won't leave me a great memory even if the lovers of colonial architecture remains will spend a lovely visit in this place not really invaded by the tourists.
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