Before arriving, I had some romantic visions of Cafayate….small vineyards like wheel spokes branching out from a cozy town, all nestled among more of my favorite Quebrada colors. And it is just that but, when you mix in hordes of Argentine teenagers and university students, it loses some of its appeal. So during my two days in Cafayate, my main goal was to avoid the noise and try to stick to my romantic picture of the place. With ominous storms always around the corner, signs that lead to nowhere, and badly blazed paths that only goats can figure out, it was easy enough to lose myself from the crowd. I took a sandy road to a sandy path up the mountainside to look for some caves. No caves, no ruins, either, when I later looked for
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