Helen
The first thing I notice on crossing the border are trees, it’s been a while since I’ve seen any! We’ve only dropped maybe 200m in height but already Argentina seems greener. I’ve really missed running rivers and trees! There are still llamas but now there are also cows, sheep and donkeys. There’s more life here it seems. Birds are singing. The small border town La Quilaca, is quaint, with stone buildings, green parks and a big stone church, different to what we’ve got used to in Bolivia. Tree lined avenues take up the central part of the town, and the famous Ruta 40 also starts here, which we didn’t realise. It feels different, even though we’ve only crossed a border line on the map. It’s sunny and warm, we sit and have an ice cream outside, then head off south.
Traditional Bolivian dress is replaced by more modern clothing. But sharing a ‘mate’ is the Argentinian tradition, and we’re lucky enough to share it with Jose amd his family a few days into our Argentinian travels.
We stop briefly just before the Bolivian border to change our money into Argentinian pesos. There’s a big issue going on with the Argentinian currency amd I’m not quite sure how it works out but somehow we exchange what I think to be about £200 of Bolivianos and end up with about £395 worth of Argentinian pesos! We stop and camp after about 20 miles in a tiny town at an old railway station. We’ve gained another hour of daylight and it’s nice cooking, watching the sun setting later than usual. There’s a warm wind which tricks me into not layering overnight, but it’s freezing cold overnight which reminds me we’re still at altitude! I’m really looking forward to dropping out of altitude now, for warmer nights and generally just being able to breathe a bit lighter.
The next day we cycle on the altiplano into a headwind. It’s a long hard day but towards the end some amazing geological formations start to come into view. The colours are amazing, pinks, reds, purple grey and blue. We stay with an Argentinian family, Ana, Jose and they’re beautiful blonde haired son, Franco, who is nearly four. They’re from Buenos Aires but in an attempt to escape city life, they’ve moved 1000 miles north to a tiny dusty village called Tres Cruces. It’s 3700m high and still a harsh environment to live in, with water shortages in the dry season and then probably an abundance of water during wet season, December to February. Jose is a determined young man, and wants to make a life here, growing his own fruit and veg, and turning their house into a friendly hospedaje. Their son, Franco, is a huge bundle of joy, so much enthusiasm for life. He holds my hand and asks numerous questions, and laughs with pure joy when I twizz him around the garden. ‘Uno mass’ he says, time and time again, and of course I agree! We share a mate in the morning sun, and we’re told the tradition of sharing the drink, but the cup must be passed back to the ‘maker’ and you must not touch the straw! Obviously I did!
Cycling on we arrive in Humahuaca. It’s slightly more touristy here, but it’s still a quaint small town with a central plaza and beautiful whitewashed church. The central roads are cobbled and quiet, as we arrive and find a restaurant to sit out in the sun and have lunch. It’s hot! After lunch we move inside to escape the heat, I have my second coffee and we also order a wine, as we’re in Argentina of course, and also it’s so cheap! For about £1 we’re served with a huge glass of Malbec, I can see me enjoying Argentina!
We stay in an actual campsite, our first one since Ecuador I think. Although it’s a very small campsite, with space for only four or five tents. It’s nice, we find a place in the shade of the sun. There are some young people there and we get chatting. We meet Beto, a Mexican whose cycled from Alaska and is heading for Ushuaia. He’s really friendly, and travels with a trailer. I notice he doesn’t seem to have use of his left arm, and when I ask him, he tells us he was in a car accident when he was five years old. The nerves feeding his arm were severely damaged and the doctors wanted to amputate, but his parents said no. He’s forever grateful as although he doesn’t have much movement in his arm he can use his armpit to carry things and his hand to grip things. He’s full of life and a real inspiration. He’s even written a book about his journey through North America. He travels alone, and is completely self sufficient. I think about how difficult it can sometimes be to put up our tent in the wind with two arms and Chris to help! It’s great meeting people like Beto, they inspire you to keep going and to try to forget your first world problems – for a while at least!
We carry on south along the Ruta 9, heading for Salta. The road gets busier and the towns more touristic once we leave Humahuaca. The countryside is beautiful, colours fill the mountains we cycle past, trees become more abundant the further we descend. But there’s a crazy headwind all day, which means what should have been a nice easy day of descending turns into the two of us taking turns every mile or so to brave it in the front whilst the other takes a break from the wind! We camp over night by the dry river at a small town called Leon. As we cook, I notice green trees surrounding us, birds singing loudly as goats, sheep and horses graze on the fields around us. We’re at 1600m now and everything feels more alive, even me!
Even though a part of me misses the real tranquility and isolation of being at altitude, for now this is what I need. We don’t have to think too much about where our warm or waterproof clothes are in our bag, we don’t need to carry days worth of food, and there’s an abundance of campsites along Ruta 9 with water and even picnic tables. Everything’s suddenly easier at this altitude. I suddenly feel I have leg power up the hills, cicadas buzz away in the trees, there’s an abundance of coffee shops to stop and sit in the sun. I actually feel like I’m on holiday!
I notice that a lot of people’s skin is paler here, and some even have blonde hair, something we haven’t seen since we arrived in South America. All of a sudden we blend in more, and we’re not stared at by open mouthed people!
We keep heading for Salta, the road undulating. I notice it starts to feel more like suburbia as we get closer to the two cities, San Salvador de Jujuy and Salta. We cycle along some lanes with huge houses hidden behind even bigger fences, secure gates and sometimes cctv, all of this we haven’t seen for a long time! We do, however, pass a shell garage with a cafe, and we sit out and enjoy a coffee and croissant in the sun!
Morning birdsong on our campsite near salta is unbelievable and beautiful. There’s a lake nearby where we sit as the sun sets. The next morning we cycle up and over a stunning pass, full of trees, birds and life in general. It’s Sunday so the road is really quiet, which is a good job as it’s only 4m wide! We stop at a village on the other side, there’s a river with actual running water. We sit outside a cafe in the sun, and then we (Chris!) get excited, but a bottle of wine as it’s so cheap, then sit with our feet in the river in the afternoon sun. Probably not the best idea in this heat, but it’s enjoyable.
We spend four days in Salta, a small pretty city, where we mainly relax, but also visit the museum where three amazingly well preserved mummies are held. They only bring one out for display at any one time, and we see the 6-year old girl. It’s sad but also fascinating to see such a well preserved 500 year old body, excavated from a 6500m extinct volcano. Apparently an Incan offering to the gods. Chris isn’t too keen and can’t look at the body for too long, but the human body fascinates me so I spend too long analysing this poor child in a glass box.
We set off on our bikes, once again, refreshed but almost definitely too much wine in our systems! We’re going to do a loop into the mountains, up through the Pukamayu valley to Cachi, a small beautiful town in the hills, then wind back down through vineyards down to Cafayate, where some of the highest vineyards in the world are.
