Travels through South America

Another overnight bus journey took Domingo, Cari and me from Capilla del Monte via Cordoba to Tucuman where we would spend a few hours waiting for our next bus to Cafayate.

The grey day made the rundown city seem even more lacklustre than perhaps it would appear on a sunnier day. Many of the buildings were falling apart and the streets were dirtier than those of Cordoba or Buenos Aires. We’d been glad to arrive though as the farmers´strikes had meant that many bus companies were refusing to travel north.

Thankfully, there was no risk of our journey to Cafayate being disrupted and at around 3pm we boarded the bus and set off. At first we couldn’t understand why a journey that looked like it should take 4 hours was going to take 8 but, as the journey went on and we climbed higher and higher on twisting roads through breathtaking scenery, I felt no need to rush.

The first leg was a stately approach to the mountains looming above us through small, horse-and-cart villages with breeze-block houses, pool halls and rubble strewn streets. Then we began our ascent up in to the mist covered mountains where cloud trails emerged from the dense canopy. The vegetation was lush, with snake-like ferns draping off the moss covered trees that clung to the steep slopes.

I felt like I had entered a magical realm – trees seemed to be clamouring for the light creating strange formations. Many of them stripped bar by the parasitic moss they seemed like contorted limbs frozen stiff as if stricken by crippling pains. I felt a rush of childlike wonder and excitement as we continued to climb but the ever winding road meant the sensation was soon replaced by mild nausea. Very much worth it though…

We emerged on to a plateau where the landscape changed dramatically. Suddenly it felt like we were in the north of Scotland as we stopped in Tafi del Valle, the small, remote lakeside town surrounded by mist.

Leaving Tafi, we climbed higher still to barren, cacti-ridden expanses of rock. There was not a house in sight for miles and the sense of grandeur the mountains imposed was humbling.

We passed through a tiny town called Amaicha, which lies in the wide dusty valley and then Santa Maria, another small town closer to the mountain, blessed by beautiful rock outcrops in shades of sandstone, burnt ochre and rust.

The beauty of the clouds as the sun began to set in the valley heightened the sense of joy I’d been feeling since leaving Yacu Yura. The altitude, the space, the dryness felt liberating and I realised again how much pleasure can be gained by simply travelling in a moving vehicle.

The sunset behind the mountain ridge was truly incredible and we continued our journey to Cafayate in darkness.