Advertisement
Published: September 14th 2008
Tuesday, August 6th, 2008 Salta to La Poma Usually, I'm inclined to invest more quality time in one area rather than see a quantity of sights as fast as possible. However, because Dain and I wanted to see so much of this part of the country, it was our last 2 weeks in Argentina, we reluctantly abandoned our multi-day backcountry plans to rent a car and get to as many hot spots as possible. We agreed that no better way to get around on our own time and schedule than with a rental car. Of course, after hearing the anemities of our small car we were pleased to be renting. The rental company promised air conditioning, raido, CD player and maps of the area, quite an upper class promise for this part of the country.
As we headed out of the hostel, after a very late delivery of the car, we quickly became disoriented with the city of Salta, but took the right turn and eventually headed South on RP 33. The heat was a bit much at this time of day, so the use of air conditioning came in handy. However, the detachable CD/radio player face would not
Some old, ruined house or shop.
We stopped here for a break from driving to explore.connect to the base because of a small piece of broken plastic. No radio for 2 and half days, great. The maps that I requested came down a single sheet of paper with a hand drawn route for the surrounding area. Two out of the three features were not fulfilled, but the overall car rental price was low enough to keep us happy.
Starting out we were eager to abuse the privilege of having the freedom to stop whenever, wherever we wanted. We stood above steep ravines providing spreading views of valleys, dipped our feet in streams to walk along, and snapped scenic pictures at our leisure. Also, there were some very narrow driving paths that we wanted to get away from quickly and safely. We made a decent hike out of the Valle de Encantada, ignoring all signs demanding people return to the parking lot. The rocks were fun to boulder around and we saw the closest sighting ever of a Condor. The rocky ledges were high enough to protect a nesting Condor and provide shelter in extreme weather. There were herds of sheep, goat, horses along with the green grass, red rocks and blue sky above we
View from above
Who lives there and how? found a wonderful peace just resting from the dusty car ride in Valle de Encantada.
The next few detours we allowed ourselves were not as fruitful as the first few. A drive to a supposed old mine turned out poorly because of my paranoia of getting our little car stuck in the very deep sand in the middle of no where. Next, a drive through Los Cardones was a beautiful desert with imaginary - looking cactus everywhere. Cardones are a type of catcus growing so fierce through this area that it is actually a National Park. Even though we didn't see anything dinosaur related, this area is historically known for its dinosaur fossils and tracks. The setting provided a beautiful desert drive, bright red sand and cacti on either side of the road and speckling hillsides and valleys below, just immense amounts of these desert trees. Dain, playing the attentive photographer, managed to snap a shot of a hawk-like bird feasting on a mouse on top of a Cardon! The pic turned out great!
As if finally snapping out of a trance, we noticed the sun quickly beginning to set. We decided to make headway to our final
destination of our first car rental day, La Poma. The town was highly recommended by the car rental delivery man on the promise of its beauty and interesting features. The drive up to La Poma was steep, dusty and long. Half way to La Poma an area with 4 maybe 6 little huts/ living structures and a small school with a playground awaited a man with a huge smile and a vigorous wave. Dain pulled over and we finally figured out the mumbling man wanted a ride up to La Poma. He heard us speaking in English and excitedly explained (in Spanish) that he was an English teacher who had a class in La Poma tomorrow. What could we say to a fellow English teacher, so he loaded up his bag and stepping through a mob of curious children got in the backseat of the car.
We soon learned the English teacher did not know much English at all! After a few failed attempts to communicate in English we slide back to speaking in Spanish except at random times when our hitch-hiker would form simple sentences in attempt to make a joke. For example, pointing at a sign, "Puente
del Diablo," or "Goat, there a lot goat!" Each joke was followed by a hearty laugh spraying me and Dain with his heavy smelling booze breath. Dain navigated the narrow road, now in a cool darkness, with great agility and I will admit that my creative mind had visions of my jugular being knifed by this stranger in our car, I was slightly nervous. With relief we finally dropped off the hitch-hiker in front of his house in La Poma.
After such an exciting day, Dain and I realized that our hunger had been ignored all day and immediately set out to find some food for dinner. The two streets of the town did not have any store, restaurant or kiosco open, in fact, the entire town looked dead. Every door was closed, every window was dark. Only a few people carrying baskets walking in from a day's work in the field were what appeared to be alive. I was desperate for food, so we knocked on the door of the only hostel and asked if they served dinner. He said they did serve dinner, but not until 7pm and to come back at this time. We stepped outside
and looked at our watches, both reading 7pm. In confusion, we just accepted the situation and knew it was an Argentian-ism.
The night ended with an eerie feeling as we set up our tent in the middle of the town's soccer field. We ate dinner alone, the only diners in the huge dining hall at the hostel. A buttery blend of rice and chicken for me and Dain ate a decent milanesa. As usual, Dain and I offered our host a sample of Tabasco sauce that I carry with me. To my surprise the young man accepted, even after we carefully explained "salsa picante" to the mild Argentine palate. He then brought out a plate of empanadas to go with the Tabasco and I happily gave him the rest of the bottle, proud that I had passed along the joy of this sauce to one brave Argentinian.
Before nodding off, Dain and I further discussed what was giving us this weird, horror-movie-feeling. Although we didn't see many people, it seemed as if we were being watched from the moment we entered the town. And the fact that no one knew where we were and if something were to
Dain fixing the flat tire
I really wished I would have taken a pic of our hunch back hitchhiker, damn! happen, we were 75 km from any real help was scary enough. I began to make-up stories of the rental car sales man sending customers to this town. Him providing humans for the regional body snatcher or cannibal. The next morning we packed up and headed out with a quick sense of appreciation for our lives.
Wednesday August 7th, 2008 La Poma to Cachi to Molinos Now with a much clearer road vision, we backtracked the same way we came upon La Poma. First stop of the day was Puente del Diablo, The Devil's Bridge. We parked and hurriedly walked down to the famous natural bridge. The land in this area is so interesting, after the previous days landscape I couldn't imagine many more surprises.
Right away we found a rushing river going under a thick wall of stone. The water had warn away the bottom of the bridge making an arch where we could catch a small view of the under part of the bridge. In the shade on the wall opposite from where I stood were amazing mineral combinations in the stone. Bright green, gold, red all shone with moisture in cones standing on their
own in random ledges in the wall. I'm not as geographically inclined as some people, but I am smart enough to know that the conglomeration of all those colorful minerals in one area is truly rare.
Moving on to Cachi, we found another stranger in the road waving and motioning to our lone car on the deserted, dirt road. Now that we had the knack of what goes on in this region, we didn't hesitate to pick up another hitch hiker. This time an old man who, at one point, may have stood 5 and half feet tall, was so old and worn that his hunched over back positioned his head to face directly towards the ground and now bent over making him barely five feet tall. He had quite a load with him with several heavy sacks that we guessed were filled with handmade merchandise to sell to tourists in Cachi. Unlike our other chatterbox, drunk we picked up, this guy didn't have much to say and opted not to respond to any questions we asked. Dain made an effort to shake his hand and ask his name, but the entire awkward exchange led us to believe this
Puente Del Diablo
Colorful minerals old man doesn't get around civilization very often, didn't understand our accents or perhaps grew up in a more native environment than we could understand and was more Incan than Argentinian.
The dry area with flatness sprawling out on both sides of the road passed quickly enough. Because it was such a hot day, we all had windows rolled down (the old man was probably freezing) and I began to hear a continuous flapping noise coming from outside. I asked Dain how the car was handling and he said, "sluggish." I told him we needed to pull over and sure enough, passenger side rear tire had blown out. Dain was master flat tire repair man and pulled out the spare, whipped it on and we were on our way again before the old man could even begin to unload to find himself another ride.
In Cachi, we dropped off the silent hunchback and found refuge under an umbrella with cold Quilmes and plentiful food. The town was a stop along the way, we found the busy tourists in the area to be annoying and opted just to move on and skip the Archeological museum. I did pause to
The Devil's Bridge
Myth has it the devil lives down there. appreciate the White Church made completely of Cardon Cacti wood.
The day ended with a mishap, a day traveling with Jaime and Dain wouldn't be complete without one. We adventureously drove the little car, with one donut tire wheel, through a road so rutted out the walls beside the car were 4 feet high, then up a twisting and turning narrow passage towards a lake. I can't remember the motivation for wanting to go through all this driving just to see a lake, but when we found the area to be undrivable - the goats hiking along the hillside, instead of using the road, were what clued us in. So we took a picture and turned around.
On our way to Molinos we stopped to get gas and met a gas attendent who loved country music! As he filled up the car he probed Dain (wearing the gaucho hat) where he was from and then named his favorite country music band named Kentucky Revival, or something so olde we didn't even recognize the group. I scribbled down some musicians for him, but he had no access to any media or CD store so he inisited on knowing when
we would be coming back and that he would be at that gas station for years to come. Kind of put a perspective on their lifestyle in this region.
Thursday, August 8th, 2008 Molinos to Cafayate to Salta Our last day with the car rental began early in the morning just outside the small town of Molinos. We were awake before anyone else at 9am and were looking for an open store or café. We ended up knocking on the door of a hostel and ended up chatting with two friendly tour guides who were staying at a hostel and generously filled our canteen with hot water for maté. Since we were camping we had run out of water and decided it would be safer to just get some hot water and drink maté until the next town. The tour guides were watching the Argentina soccer game in the Olympics and would erupt with swear words whenever they lost the ball. Although the pair was on the job and really tired they were resourceful and kind and we all kissed each other on the cheeks as Dain and I headed out.
Following the hand-drawn map
Dain
He wanted to get a closer shot of the minerals and bravely crossed the quick moving water to get on the rock safely. was beginning to become a hazard, but we had to refer to something. Again we noticed a side trip labeled Camino de Artesanales. We figured it was a big art fair with the regional wool woven blankets and tablecloths. We passed two houses with people curiously looking at our car as we drove by, until we discovered that the we were supposed to stop at the house and look at what each individual family was selling. The first stop Dain bought some table runners and little bracelet handmade with a loom by the woman who sold it to us. The next stop, was my turn, I have to admit I felt a little pressured to buy something when I saw that the toothless old woman was living off the land with her five children and 2 dogs in a mud hut using the means of income from her weaving. The last stop was a bit more commercialized with a family who had been recognized in a nationally known magazine and had a group of workers doing the weaving for them. Across the way was a woman and her daughter who made beautiful ponchos for men and women. They were enticing
Jumping back to the river bank
...he ripped his jeans. Hiilllarious! and I hated to put my wallet away and then drive away leaving her to make more intricate patterns bundled and sitting out in the hot sun with her 11 year old daughter by her side. It was a sad moment to see how these humble and gracious people live, out in the middle of a desert.
Before we even got to Cafayate the vineyards began to pop up along the highway and we stopped to get samples and purchases. It was kind of a slap in the face when we asked one vineyard for a sample of wine and they said no, that only the bottles were for sale and we would have to try the wine after we bought it. Another oddity was a llama tied up outside of a vineyard store who I tried to pester, but other tourists warned me that it had recently spit on someone and that I should stop, hehe. After all the stingy vineyards we finally headed down town.
A wave of indecision had crept over me and Dain, this sometimes happens with couples, and we couldn't decide on anything, EXCEPT for the single fact that the Torrontes White Wine
was awesome and we had to drink more. So we lunched on picadas (small bites) and drank Torrontes until breaking point and then pulled ourselves away for the drive home, resting soundly as we knew the many bottles of wine we purchased were going to be enjoyed soon.
The last stop before making it back to Salta was an amphitheater where Dain and a local hippie discussed the latest with the campo vs. the government. I just bought a pair of earrings and moved on. The amphitheater was highly talked about from locals, our landlord in Palermo and I have to admit I was surprised to see a circular space with extremely high walls of sandstone rock. Apparently, Argentina has never googled Red Rocks Amphitheater. Finally, Dain cut off the conversation and we drove up the road a little way to get the last of our pictures at an mirador before the sun went down.
We pulled into Salta two hours after our car was due, but there were no penalties as none exist in Argentina for tardiness. He assessed the tire and determined at the mechanic that we didn't have to pay anything. Dain and I crashed
and awoke the next morning to prepare ourselves for the longest bus ride of our lives. Salta to Iguazú falls in 22 hours!
Advertisement
Tot: 0.269s; Tpl: 0.017s; cc: 13; qc: 71; dbt: 0.1986s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.2mb
Car Rental
non-member comment
Car Rental in Aix En Provence, France
This is amazing photo of cachi, cafayate and a car rental. Thank to sharing your journey with car rental. atleast i know what is problrm arrive when hire a car or even a own car. like you saw tyred punctured. Thanks buddy.