The history of Colonia de Sacramento can basically be summarized by saying it was founded in 1680 by Portugal and then it was conquered by Spain and then it went back to Portugal… Spain… Portugal… Spain. It traded hands many times. Its location on the banks of the River de la Plate across from Buenos Aires was strategic for trade. It is now a UNESCO World Heritage site and popular with tourists for its cobble stoned streets and colonial buildings.

It isn’t a big place and the best word to describe it is tranquil. All we did was walk around and eat. It is a nice one or two day trip from Buenos Aires. For me personally what made it so much fun were the people who shared it with me.  Sebastian, Nati, Matias, Nico and I had a great time. I hope the rest are able to join us on the road at some point in the future.

La Quiaca is the most northern Argentinian town and is directly across the Bolivian border from Villazon. We stayed one night there in order to give us ample time to cross the border before catching our train to Uyuni.  Something important to keep in mind is there is an hour time difference between Bolivia and Argentina. We awoke early at the Copacabana Hostel (highly recommended) and fought with the almost nonexistent internet in an attempt to at least book hostels for the next three towns. I am not sure why we were in such a rush because after all we were going to save an hour due to the time difference. In our hurry we made the poor decision of waiting to buy food in Bolivia… more on that later.

With our backs loaded up we walked from the hostel for about 6 blocks to the border crossing. We stopped to take photos with the sign marking the northern most point of Argentina and that to reach the southernmost point, Ushuaia (very close to where Nico is from), you would have to travel over 5,000 km. There is an official border crossing and an illegal border crossing. The best part is the illegal crossing is within sight of the legal one. We stood and watched for a moment as hordes of locals ran across with wheel barrows loaded up with goods.

Keep in mind that this border crossing is pretty shabby and not very well signed. I have actually read of travelers walking through it without being processed and later paying the consequences of “illegally” entering Bolivia. We walked through Argentinian immigration quickly and reached the less organized Bolivian immigration window. Just feet across the border and it was already blatantly obvious that Argentina and Bolivia are not on the same playing field. I handed the immigration officer my passport and 160 USD for my visa. I wish my country didn’t charge foreigners so much to visit the US because it means we have to pay a lot as well. The nice thing is that the visa is good for ten years. The man looked at my passport, examined each bill meticulously, set everything down, walked over to his desk and played with his phone, chatted with someone through a window, picked up my passport/money and left the building. As a seasoned traveler not a ton of things really rattle me. Someone nonchalantly leaving my sight with my passport and my cash qualifies as disconcerting. We waited with all our stuff still on our backs as people flowed through immediately behind us. After some serious waiting, he returned and calmly sat at his desk. It appeared that my visa was being processed, so Nico left to deal with his tax forms which were inconveniently out of sight. Since Nico is Argentinian, he doesn’t even need his passport to enter other South American countries. The crummy thing for him is that for tax purposes the Argentinian government requires its citizens to declare each electronic item they take out of the country with them. When they return they show the declaration and all is well. If they enter the country without a tax declaration, it means they must have purchased the item outside the country and thus owe the government 50% of its value. Ridiculous! Of course right about when he left a new immigration official arrived and informed me that sixty of my US dollars were not of good enough quality. I took them directly from my bank in Portland specifically for this visa and even had made sure they were crisp! What the heck. It was frustrating considering the fact that I only had one extra twenty. Thus, my piece of advice for other travelers is to always A. bring extra cash for your visas and B. make sure each bill is of the most recent date of issue. So in my elementary Spanish I told the man that I would wait for Nico to come back hoping that he had US dollars. I stood their shifting from one foot to another amazed by how long it took him to declare his stuff. About 40 minutes passed and finally he returned. He saved the day with sixty new US dollars. We were in!

As we walked into the town, Nico told me that the Argentinian official he dealt with felt uncomfortable for him for bringing so many electronics with him and gave him a strong warning of the safety of Villazon. Oh boy was he right. Everything felt so much grungier, the people stared at us, and it was clear we were no longer in Kansas. Already tired and sweating we proceeded to walk 15 blocks to the train station. I had read that the main situation in which people get mugged in Bolivia is in taxis and we had just withdrawn money from the ATM with many locals eyeing us.

As we entered the train station we saw an Argentinian group of three that we had passed in a restaurant the evening previously. We discussed the dire fact that there was no safe food available in the town and that we had an absurd wait ahead of us. One of them suggested not eating any unpackaged food due to the lack of sanitation in Villazon. The train was supposed to leave at 3:30pm and we arrived at noon. Don’t worry all the warnings we had read about Bolivian transit were correct the train left at 6:30pm. During the wait, Nico went out in search of some form of nutrition. He came back with a can of tuna that wasn’t really tuna and a can of mystery meat that once opened he couldn’t even accept eating. Luckily, we had one can left of Argentinian tuna, so we split it down the middle. We are healthy people, but we eat a lot. When we went to the food truck expo in Buenos Aires, Nati was surprised to realize that our first dish was only a snack and not our meal. We proceeded to buy two more dishes. Ergo, you can imagine the feeling of desperation when there wasn’t even an option to buy food to get us through the next 6.5 hours of waiting and 7 hours of a train ride. I am the type of person that would prefer carry an extra unnecessary 3 lbs. of food than not have anything at all.

Before boarding the train, I used the station’s restroom. The young girl manning it, pulled herself up on the counter while I was washing my hands and grabbed my necklace. In Spanish she asked me where I bought it and how much it cost. She said it looked expensive and that she wanted it. That was not my first clue that Bolivia was going to be an interesting experience.

Stay tuned for the bizarre train and the Uyuni Salt Flats! Welcome to Bolivia.

The first thing I noticed as soon as we landed in the north of Argentina was the genetic make-up of the people. In Buenos Aires the population is predominantly made up of descendants of European immigrants. Here the people are much more indigenous and thus are shorter and have much darker coloring. I joked that my parents could have selected different partners and thus have given me A. a higher tolerance of high altitude and B. darker skin. Alas, I am stuck with the genes I have and will do my best to be grateful.

Our first stop in Jujuy was a town called Purmamarca. It is famous for a seven colored mountain. There isn’t much to the town and its existence is predominantly for tourists. Starting early in the morning the central plaza is completely ensconced by tables piled high with fake llama sweaters made in either Bolivia or China. There is a nice circuit trail that takes roughly an hour to hike just outside of town. It takes you up high enough to get some awesome views of the surrounding mountains and their multicolored layers of minerals. We did the hike twice, well technically I did it twice. Nico ran it one of the times and definitely felt the difference in elevation from Buenos Aires. We also ate at the restaurant, Los Colores, twice. There was live music and they served quinoa milanesa, llama meat, pollo picante, and a plethora of other local dishes. I love quinoa and unfortunately it is usually expensive in most places around the world, but in this region it is very prevalent and cheap! For other travelers I recommend just a one night stay in Purmamarca or make a pit stop on your way to Tilcara. 

We took the bus to Tilcara and were greeted by a dusty dirty town. On our walk to the hostel I started to feel off. I felt dizzy and light headed. We checked into the Albahaca Hostel. It is a very friendly place, but the hippies running it albeit welcoming are very lazy. Let’s just say the water heater had two knives sticking out of it in an attempt to keep the temperature gage in place and all the dishes in the communal kitchen were covered with bugs. After checking in, we went in search of food and that is when the altitude sickness first hit me. I almost passed out. Luckily, Nico got me to a chair in time. We ate pollo milanesa and both experienced bouts of stomach issues. Apparently it isn’t wise to eat at a restaurant housed in a mechanic shop for your future reference.  Due to the altitude sickness I began drinking copious amounts of mate de coca. Tea made from the leaves of the coca plant, the very ones used to make cocaine. The leaves are soaked in acid, stripped of all nutritional value, and reduced to the fine powdered drug. Before this process, the leaves help chewers fight fatigue, hunger, combat altitude sickness, and act as an anesthetic.

The second day in Tilcara gave us a completely different view of the town. The rising sun highlighted the surrounding mountains and it was still too early for the dust to have been kicked up by the afternoon traffic. We met our tour guide for the day and set off. He led us up into the mountains and to the Waira Caves. He shared a lot about the region’s culture and how it has preserved many aspects of the Incan culture.

He explained how since the time of the Incas the people of the area have held the sun god (male) and Mother Earth (obviously female) in high esteem. There is a stronger sense of gender equality in their culture greatly due to the significance of Pachamama (Mother Earth). He said it is very common for women to pursue their own careers outside of the home, go to university, and to go out and see the world in their twenties. When they are around 28 or 29 it is time for them to find their mate and to start having kids. He went onto to say like a woman’s body the earth has a 28 day cycle with a 5 day purification period. He even went as far as saying that men should take note of how the sun “works” the earth. “A man should not only focus on his own pleasure, but use his mind to delay his for the sake of the woman’s pleasure.” He then spent about 15 minutes explaining how strong the bond between humans and the earth is and that in fact we are one with the earth. Pachamama gives us life, food, warmth, water, shelter, and animals to be our companions.

They, like the Incas, believe that man originally came from the stars and once fully evolved will return. He used the Egyptians to illustrate this by saying that they must have fully evolved and that is why they “disappeared”. He compared their pyramids, which come to a point, to those of the Mayans and Aztecs, which are flat on top. The fact that the Egyptians’ pyramids came to a point indicates that they had fully evolved and thus returned to the stars, while the Mayans and Aztecs did not succeed in this evolution. The way their burials work are also connected back to this belief of returning to the stars. They believe in reincarnation until you ascend back to the stars and thus death is seen as a resting period. They bury their dead sitting up in the fetial position so they are ready to be reborn. We saw this first hand in Salta with the mummies of the Incan children found on Mount Llullaillaco. I really enjoyed how their system of thinking revolved greatly around logic and observations of the earth, moon, and stars. For example, the number four is very significant. There are four seasons, four energies, and four kingdoms.

Knowing that South America is predominantly Catholic, I asked if his community acknowledged both Catholicism and the old Incan ways. He said that when the Europeans came Catholicism was greatly pushed on them. So they began to practice it out in the open, but continued to follow their old ways at home. Even today statues of Mary often include the Incan symbol of Pachamama. Their community celebrates all the old Incan festivals (which involve parties and even alcohol being strewn on the ground so that Pachamama can enjoy as well) and doesn’t follow the Gregorian calendar, but the lunar calendar with New Year’s following on June 21st. He finished off by saying his people live in tight communities that share in everything from joy to sorrow and try to be mindful of all the earth has given them on a daily basis.

We went into two caves and sat through three parts of a normally five part meditation. He sprinkled water on the mouth of the cave and asked Pachamama if we could enter her “womb”. Inside the cave he told us the musky scent was her perfume. I told Nico we should figure out a way to bottle it. We probably wouldn’t make millions, but in this region we could turn a pretty penny. We had to turn off our headlamps and put out our candles for the meditation. It went on for a long time and Nico translated as the guide babbled along. More or less the point was to bring up all our painful memories from the past and to let them sit. Through communing with Pachamama we would be able to remove the pain and replace it with joy.

Once back in town we stopped in his office to pay and met a very nice woman painting gnomes on tee shirts. She showed us the book she was copying the gnomes from. I doubt she has ever had someone as interested in gnomes as I was. I took a picture of almost every page of the book. Obviously, by the title of this blog I have a thing for gnomes. It is a long story and I am not going to get into that now, but I find it fascinating that humans from different parts of the world independently of one another conceptualized these mischievous, friendly, and even sometimes evil creatures. She said that there are many different gnomes ingrained in the culture in northern Argentina and that they have been around for centuries. After saying goodbye we visited the Pucara a pre-Incan fortification.

The next day we did a day trip to Humahuaca. If you plan to continue on to the Bolivian border, I recommend stopping here on the way. We only spent a few hours and could have easily continued onto La Quiaca. We paid roughly 10 USD to split a truck with a very nice couple from Buenos Aires to climb 4,000 meters up to get a clear view of Las Serranias del Hornocal. These North Andean hills are so brilliantly colored they almost look fake. I am so glad we made the trip.

Next up crossing the Bolivian border on foot.

I would like to take a few minutes to touch on the history of the Incas. I think most people are aware of the famous site of Machu Picchu and that the Inca Empire was brought to its knees by the Spanish conquistador, Francisco Pizarro. Yet, what I didn’t know previously was that the Inca Empire only lasted from 1438 to 1533 AD. It is hard to believe they accomplished so much in such a short period of time! In most cases they peacefully assimilated tribes into their empire, yet at points had to use military force. Even though there were over 700 indigenous languages spoken within their territory, they demanded their people to learn Quechua. They reigned over the mountainous regions of Peru, Bolivia, Chile, and NW Argentina. The tribes in these areas had stationary lifestyles and thus were easier to incorporate versus the nomadic tribes of the plains. From their headquarters in Cusco they required all men to perform a mandatory 6 months of military service and during this time they would also be put to work building such things as the empires extensive road network. They built over 30,000 km of roads! They were incredibly sophisticated architects and built terraced farms that were far superior to anything in Europe at the time. Unfortunately, for them at the time of Pizarro’s arrival (he first reached their territory in 1526) the great leader Huayna Capac had died and his sons Huáscar and Atahualpa were amidst a civil war over who would lead the Inca Empire. In addition the population was being hit hard by smallpox introduced to the continent by the Spanish. Pizarro’s company only included roughly 170 men and could have easily been crushed by the Incan might. It is said that Atahualpa, the victor of the civil war, was very curious about this man dressed in armor and even assumed he was a representation of the sun god. Supposedly Pizarro handed Atahualpa a Bible and demanded that he convert to Christianity. When Atahualpa didn’t have the desired response, the Spanish had their excuse to attack. Atahualpa was imprisoned and the Spanish demanded a ransom of gold and silver be paid. The Incas complied and delivered the ransom, yet instead of freeing Atahualpa he was killed publically and the thus the empire crumbled in 1533.

We walked out of our hostel and there was a dust covered piece of junk metal. I pointed at it and asked if that was our ride and Nico nodded his head. All I could do was start to laugh. Go figure we would sign up for a two day tour of driving in the backcountry of Argentina and we would end up in a metal death trap. Luckily, a much more respectable car pulled around the corner and our guide waved us over. He was an odd and interesting fellow. He is now a retired police officer/ history teacher. At first I thought the history teacher past was going to make the tour, but he shared very little history. For long stretches of time the two of them would ramble in Spanish and I had no idea what was being said. I assumed the guide was telling Nico something of value. Later on Nico said he was doing me a favor by not translating because the guide spent about a half an hour talking about his ‘kids’ aka his cats. Apparently they are brothers and look very similar. They are very intelligent… blah blah blah. Keep in mind he does have human children aged 22, 24, and 26. He didn’t dedicate half an hour talking about them though. He also told Nico about his 21 year old girlfriend. You do the math. His oldest child is 26. Yep…

On the way to Cachi we drove through the Valles Calchaquies across the Cuesta del Obispo and through the Parque Nacional Los Cardones. The park is named after the cactuses (Cardon) that cover the earth as far as the eye can see. The drive was beautiful and we passed some of the most interesting soccer fields I have ever seen. Cachi itself didn’t feel like a destination worth going out of your way for. The main plaza was very nice, but Cafayate really was the crown jewel of the trip in my opinion. After stopping for lunch in Cachi we hit the road making stops in Seclantas, Molinos, and Angastaco. All the towns were incredibly small, yet all impressively seemed to have a Macro Bank oddly enough.

We stayed in a wonderful hostel called, Casa Arbol. I wish we could have spent two nights in Cafayate instead of one. The town is famous for its white wine (Torrentes), so we went to two wineries and walked around the town. The main plaza is very quant and the church is beautiful. We split a whole chivito (a small animal prevalent in the region) and loaded up in the car and headed out. On our way back to Salta from Cafayate we passed many nice natural formations such as the Devil’s Throat (yep another one) and a famous natural amphitheater. Driving through the Quebrada de Cafayate felt like I was in Arizona. The landscape has the same red tint to it and very similar rock formations.

It was a successful trip. The guide was less than desirable, but we tried almost all of the traditional dishes of the region and got some awesome photos. Next stop the province of Jujuy!

What is now the northwest of Argentina was once part of the viceroy of Peru. During the time of Spanish imperialism the city of Salta was founded. It was founded by Hernando de Lerma, a Spanish conquistador, in 1582. His goal was to build an outpost that could be used to facilitate trade and communication between Lima and Buenos Aires. The city gained great significance during the war of independence. The city was a stronghold for the revolutionaries and was successfully defended by Martín Miguel de Güemes and José de San Martín. Güemes is an iconic figure of the revolution especially in Salta, while San Martín is considered the father of the country and hailed throughout Argentina as its principal liberator.

The city today draws many visitors because of its colonial architecture, museums, proximity to natural beauty, and abundance of outdoor activities. Another plus to the city is its size. Since it is the largest city in the province of Salta, it is big enough to satisfy travelers’ desire for night life and has a variety of eateries to choose from.

The top things to do are visit the Cabildo, check out the MAAM museum, take the cable car up Cerro San Bernardo, go inside the old churches such as the Iglesia San Francisco, and book a ride on the Tren a Las Nubes. We covered the main sites in town. Unfortunately, the Tren a Las Nubes was completely booked the days we were in Salta. Thus, make sure you make a reservation well in advance. I wish we could have done it, but saving the 120 USD has its own benefit as well. Tren a Las Nubes means Train to the Clouds. It is a train that takes you to 4,220 meters above sea level to La Povorilla. The train tracks are impressively engineered especially considering they were constructed in the 1920’s to service the local Borax mines. It is now one of the highest train tracks in the world and considered one of the more dangerous. The views it offers are said to be stunning. At such a high altitude some experience altitude sickness, but fortunately the train staff have coca leaves and tea at hand to help combat its effects. Budget a full day because the train leaves early in the morning and returns to Salta around 11 pm.   

The main plaza, Plaza 9 de Julio, is a good place to start. We visited the Cabildo or old town hall built in 1783. You will find these old administrative buildings built by the Spanish in many of Argentina’s cities and towns. They all seem to have the same basic adobe arched structure. The Cabildo now houses a museum, but for English speakers the building itself is the main attraction. Our favorite sight in town was the MAAM museum or El Museo de Arqueología de Alta Montaña. The museum nicely discusses the archeological finds of the region and even has preserved remains of three Inca children who were sacrificed at the peak of Mount Llullaillaco. The degree to which the remains are preserved is phenomenal. We spent a good 5 minutes with our noses up against the glass taking in the sight of the skin, hair, and clothes of a child over 400 years old. Even one of the earlobes was visible! The displays clearly explained in both English and Spanish the Incans’ sacrifice of chosen noble children in the celebration of the capacocha. They were selected from various towns throughout the empire and brought to Cusco for large ceremonial weddings. These weddings between high born children from different regions were performed to build strong diplomatic ties between even the farthest reaches of the empire. After the festivities, the children were given an alcoholic beverage and buried alive along with troves of silver and gold statuettes. The Incas believed that these children would be reunited with their ancestors in the afterlife and that it was a great honor to be selected. I for one wouldn’t have wanted the honor and am completely ok being a commoner. I will write a brief history of the Incas in a future post.

We took the cable car (100 pesos round trip) up Cerro San Bernardo. It was nice, but I enjoyed it more for the company I was with than the place itself. It is just a hill overlooking the city. If you want to take in the view, get some exercise and walk up the 1070 steps.

The two things I enjoyed the most were the hostel we stayed in and the peña, La Casona del Molino, where we dined. One of the things that Salta is famous for are its restaurants that feature live and very personalized folklore music called peñas. La Casona del Molino had been recommended to Nico by several friends and I am glad it was. It was a bit outside of the city center and thus was less touristy. The establishment had a large courtyard with candle laden tables surrounding a large tree and a strong scent of grilled meat coming from the back corner where food was being prepared on the parrilla. Inside there were at least three rooms of more tables. Luckily we got there early on Argentinian standards, 9 pm, because the whole place was booked. The menu included local traditional dishes such as empanadas (small dough pockets filled with meat, cheese, vegetables, or quinoa and then fried or baked), humita en chala, tamales, locro, picante de pollo, picante de lengua, cazuela de cabrito, carbonada, and several dishes with llama meat. We ordered cazuela de cabrito, a stew with meat from a small local animal, and dulce de cayote for dessert (a jam served with cheese, figs, and nuts). Half way through our meal, groups of musicians began to join tables and play up close and personal for small parties of diners. I love the atmosphere this form of performance creates. Instead of having one band playing at the front of a large hall, there was a unique conglomeration of musicians filling the property with a variety of sounds coming from every niche. We finished our bottle of Cafayate wine and called it an absurdly early night compared to our fellow guests. I was yawning and falling asleep at 11pm while all the guests in their 50’s, 60’s, and 70’s were just gearing up for a night of music. One man even asked Nico why we were leaving so soon. All Nico had to do was point at me and say, “Ella esta durmiendo.”

As for our hostel, Hostal Jorge I, it was memorable mainly because we were the only guests there and so the hostel owner invited us to join his friends for an asado in honor of one of their birthdays. It was a large gregarious group. The birthday boy joked around with me in English and when he gave each guest a nickname, he gave Nico the name Nicholas Cage and I was Kristin Obama. The evening was filled with laughter and the food was excellent. The next day we had an early morning pick up to head south for the towns of Cachi and Cafayate.