Argentina’s wild north-west

Salta – May 2019

I arrive in Salta on a Christian holiday, completely exhausted. But I’ll save the story about the two consecutive night bus journeys I’ve just had for another time. Today it’s all about the haphazard discovery tour of the two northernmost provinces of Argentina: Salta and Jujuy. I only stay one night in the capital Salta, and due to the public holiday (and a severe lack of sleep from the previous days) I mainly spend it in my private room in a small guesthouse. The next day I get a good night’s sleep and continue on to Cafayate.

The small town slightly south of Salta was recommended to me by Melanie, who I met at the Spanish school in Lima. She had visited Cafayate a few weeks earlier on a day trip, but I decided to stay there overnight for cost reasons. After all, the local bus there and back plus the accommodation is significantly cheaper than the guided tour. So I make my way to the bus stop in Salta and, after buying my ticket, get straight into the vehicle ready for departure. The 3.5-hour journey flies by.

I enjoy the Andean music on the radio, which perfectly accompanies the view of the passing villages and fields. On the last few kilometers before Cafayate, the landscape becomes much more barren and reminds me more and more of the desert in Nevada. After arriving in the small town, I can already move into my dormitory at Hostel Ruta 40. It’s lunchtime and so I quickly walk back to the main square, where I’ve spotted a nice restaurant. I order some much-missed tamales and then treat myself to a siesta.

In the evening, I meet Nini, a Brazilian woman who is currently cleaning the hostel in exchange for board and lodging and occasionally prepares vegan dinners. Today we’re having pizza and soon we get talking to the other guests – Toma from Israel and Barbova from the Czech Republic. When I hear about their hike to one of the nearby canyons, it’s clear to me that I have to stay a second night. And so, after a restful night and a delicious breakfast, I set off in search of a bike rental shop. Of course, all the stores are closed for the holidays. So I have no choice but to walk the 6 kilometers to the start of the canyon, which I have spotted on Maps.me.

I grab some refreshments from one of the kiosks (as always in Argentina, empanadas and potato chips are essential) and set off. I soon leave the dusty streets of the desert town behind me and walk in the sparse shade of the vines. Then even the vines become fewer and fewer and I find myself in a bush landscape that I hadn’t expected. With Celeste Barber’s audiobook in my ear, I treat myself to a short break and a first snack. Then I continue along the gravel road, where pick-up trucks with farm workers overtake me 1-2 times.

I soon reach the turn-off to the hiking trail “Las 7 Cascadas del Río Colorado“, which is marked on the map. There, to my surprise, I find a small hut where two guys are drinking maté behind an improvised table. They speak to me in Spanish and tell me that I should sign the list and that I need a guide for the hike. I write my personal details in the yellowed book, but thankfully decline the offer of a guide. The whole thing seems very unofficial to me (especially as it’s not a national park) and I want to enjoy nature in peace. In addition, the area seems very remote to me for attacks on tourists, as can happen in other parts of Latin America on popular hiking routes.

After a brief exchange, they also give up and let me set off on my own. I walk over the large stones of the riverbed of the Río Colorado and use the offline map from Maps.me to find my way. Although the path is not signposted, it is still relatively well developed at the beginning of the gorge. I only meet one elderly lady, who probably lives in one of the small stone houses along the river. From now on, the gorge becomes narrower and narrower and the cactus-covered hills higher and higher. The autumn landscape is beautiful and I have to keep stopping to take photos. Luckily I don’t have a guide with me, as I would only annoy him.

After a good hour of easy walking, the narrow bridges become scarcer and I have to climb over stones more and more often to change sides of the river. The path is still visible if you follow the trampled grass, but I’m beginning to understand the advantage of having a guide. But I’m far from giving up, my spirit of discovery is undimmed. However, my body demands a break. So I sit down in the shade of a yellow poplar near a small natural pool and eat the rest of my provisions. As I’m almost finished with my meal, one of the two men from the hut suddenly turns the corner with two female tourists in tow.

He greets me with an expression somewhere between superiority (because I’m probably too slow for his taste) and astonishment (because he probably didn’t think I’d even make it that far). Then the small group also sits down in the shade a few meters away from me. It seems that I have found an unofficial resting place. I sit down for a few more minutes and then continue on the right-hand side of the river on the now slightly ascending path. The guide and his 2 companions overtake me shortly afterwards, which is fine by me. Because now I have the gorge to myself again.

The last section I cover is more like a scramble over large rocks, some of which are overgrown with giant cacti. After a rewarding view of one of the 7 waterfalls, I decide to turn back, as I still have a whole 10 kilometers to go back. On the way, I take a few more breaks at particularly beautiful places. When I reach the end of the gorge again, I decide to take the short detour via the rest of the riverbed. This way I avoid another encounter with the unofficial guides and get to see a bit more of nature.

After all, there are still a few kilometers of dusty roads ahead of me. As soon as the populated zone is in sight, a pack of stray dogs appears. A few months ago, this would have been very unsettling, and I would probably have taken a long detour to get rid of the pooches. But today, I know that the animals don’t mean anyone any harm. So I let them run after me until they lose interest. Then I’m soon back at the hostel and tell Nini enthusiastically about my trip. We talk long into the night, looking up at the stars above us.

The next day, with a heavy heart, I move on to the next stop. After all, my days in South America will soon be numbered. To be continued.