Long road through Argentina

Trip Start Mar 31, 2006

Trip End Mar 31, 2007

Loading Map

Map your own trip!

Map Options

Show trip route

Hide lines

Flag of Argentina Mendoza, Argentina
Thursday, October 5, 2006

When we arrived at the campsite in Campo Quijano just west of Salta, we were first met by a large fat man on a minute motorbike who told us it would cost 12 pesos and he went in search of reinforcements; then a lady with two girls in tow said it was nine pesos; they were followed by a cleaning couple who set to; then fat man came back so by this time we had galvanized half the village! We had some fun in this campsite outside Salta where we spent three nights while doing our chores and resting up. The fun was with Sheila and a dog. Sheila thinks every dog she sees is a potential friend in need of a little care to be that perfect companion. One of these in the form of a small and very shy and of very mixed parentage came along and was finally coaxed close enough for a pat and a scratch behind the ears; the next minute she was no longer shy and was all wet tongue and scratching insistent claws and had to be chased away. Well in the night the little "bitch" got her own back and pinched one of Sheila's expensive sandals; we had the whole neighbourhood out looking in the end and finally found it inside an adjacent garden with the dog looking smug

And yet more colours and endless vista

. Severely gnawed but one dollar had them almost new again and Sheila was already saying the dog did not really mean harm and was simply maladjusted through neglect. The dog was sensible enough not to come anywhere near after that. We never had anyone else at the campsite so we had three consecutive nights of good sleep.

Salta, although written up in the guide book, was simply large with lots of services but very few colonial buildings. We did a day trip up into the hills to look at more brightly coloured rocks but there is so much and all so beautiful that we are getting a bit blas� about it all. We went from Salta to Cafayate via Cachi on a lovely road through a gorge and over a pass and then went for vast stretches through flat and featureless semi-desert but with everywhere cactuses some of huge size and startling shapes. Cafayate is another touristy little town surrounded by vineyards and pretty and peaceful - during the day - as our two nights were very disturbed! The first night by a busload of young tourists who did not seem to stop all night. And the next night the local municipality thought it was a good idea to have an evening celebrating tourism with a deafening band in the plaza keeping all the tourists awake all night for miles around - including me. During this entirely sleepless night I made a vow that we would not spend a night in a campsite at the weekend, ever

Gut care of Argentina

. Of course when Sheila heard of the vow she set a firm jaw - is anyone surprised?

So we set off with Sheila's firm jaw and my head and red-rimmed eyes; not a very happy little duo. We stopped first at the Quilmes ruins which were left by an indigenous group that successfully defied first the Inca and then the Conquistadors; they ultimately fell to the Spaniards after a hundred years and were forcibly removed and are remembered as the name of a beer! It was another lovely road to our next "resting place" at Londres; I say all roads are "lovely" but they are a mixture of endless featureless flats interspersed with gorges and passes and bare coloured rocks and little bright green oases; and usually in the distance there are mountain ranges along both sides. Sadly a lot of the view is in a haze as the endless wind had whipped up the dust sometimes so thick that everyone had their headlights on (another difference in Argentina where headlights are often on in the day; very different from Bolivia where even in the pitch black they see no need for light; clearly guided divinely). And talking about the "divine": there is a saint here in Argentina who is revered by truck drivers; she followed her conscripted husband into the desert and was found dead from thirst with a live infant at her breast. Her name was Diolinda Correa and, according to the guide book, she is probably the most universal belief here and the likely site of her death draws 100,000 visitors at her anniversary

Marching to the horizon

. There are shrines to her everywhere and many are piled high with plastic water bottles for her to drink on her journey through the desert.

As we neared Londres the "jaw" and the "head" started discussions about where to sleep; the compromise was to search out some "free" camping; I agreed that if we find somewhere well away from any possible source of music or noise then OK. So we took a little side road out of Londres for about 8km up a little river and found the most perfect site looking up a magnificent valley and shaded by thorn trees. It was so like where we typically camped in Africa that it was uncanny. Just the bush noises were a little different with the absolute constant cries of little-lost-goats, braying donkeys and horses and frogs croaking at night. So blissful that we stayed two nights. It is only the noise of unthinking humans that keeps me awake; here the "unthinking" noise-wise seems to be universal; I really do not think they notice other peoples' noise.

From Londres we headed for Chilecito. Was the road lovely? Well I expect so but cannot really picture it all; the roads are definitely by far the best we have experienced since entering Latin America; even the dirt is mostly just corrugated and one can easily cruise at over 60km/hr

More rock colours

. At Chilecito we turned East for 8km to a little hamlet called Santa Florentina where several campsites were located; it was also the site of an old smelter and slag dump and had the remains of a very long cable car for bringing down the ore from a mine high in the mountains and taking men and materials up. We went and looked at one of the steam driving stations which had been partially restored; very impressive when you think that it was built exactly 100yrs ago; nothing daunted in those times; well worth a visit if you are an old mine buff like me. Just so you know we had a peaceful night at the campsite.

Not so the next night at San Jose de Jachal (is this beginning to sound repetitive?). A vast muni-campsite with no gates and no prices so we assumed it was free; that should have been the warning! I settled in with my earplugs deeply embedded as usual so did not hear Sheila venturing out in her "jams" to tackle a group of young people who just stared at her when she asked them at 1am to lower the noise. They eventually moved on. This time Sheila had the red eyes. Anyway on to the road again; this country is truly vast; we travel mostly on Ruta Cuarenta (R40) which travels from the North to the Southern tip. As you cross the border you get a sign that says that Ushuaia something like 5,000km and on most of this road there is a mileage sign every one kilometer; gets a bit depressing as you seem to be going nowhere fast

Our free campsite

. But it is a fabled route a bit like the "66" in America. Argentina needs its own year to explore not part of our year that we have given it! Sometimes I think it primarily the country in which to enjoy getting hugely fat; we have had filet steak most nights and at $3.50/kg it is still very cheap (especially as Sheila limits us to two small slices); a good wine costs us $1.5/bottle (of course as our friends know a "good" wine might not qualify for everyone else but you can get a bottle for 60c and a 4.5lt flagon for just over $2; fruit and vegetables are equally cheap and the best quality and most tasty we have come across; lots of cheap cheese and salami and the Pages are just guzzling happily through.

We are now encamped (and still guzzling) in Mendoza which surprised us with its size and especially beauty: one million people living in a very "European" looking city with wide tree lined streets (enormous enshrouding trees like the ones some London street have - I think plane trees?); pavement cafes full of businessmen hatching and bright young things looking bright. But the driving is driving me insane; I have no idea who is meant to give way to whom and most of the time it seems like a complete free-for-all with me stuck in the middle mildly bleating. We are here for at least two nights for car servicing and internet - and of course guzzling