The Quebrada de Humahuaca is found in Jujuy province in north western Argentina. This 100 mile valley was carved by the Rio Grande and stretches north to the Bolivian border.  It is a richly indigenous region of beautiful multi coloured mountains, historical adobe villages, colourful handicrafts and ancient churches.

It looked like the direct route on the map and it was – it was also the scenic route which should have hinted at things to come. We drove due north out of Salta and soon found ourselves ascending rapidly into a verdant forest of low trees, hanging mosses and wonderful distant mountain views. The road was narrow, so much so that we quite often had to pull off its side for passing traffic, and it was definitely torturous, so I don’t think we ever got over 20 mph, but the setting and the views compensated.

We were heading north to the Quebrada de Humahuaca, a long gorge above the city of Jujuy. We decided to visit the market area here and ended up immersed in a traffic snarl up that would not have been out of place in Bombay. It was certainly a lively market and thankfully the northern part of town was quieter and had ample car parking areas so it was easier to abandon the car and walk. The Plaza Belgrano was pleasantly leafy and the focal point of the town but unfortunately all the museums were closed for the New Year.

Purmamarca   

Gradually the terrain became more mountainous and more desolate along the dry valley formed by the Rio Grande.  Our first stop was Purmamarca and on exploring this little town, it was hard to believe we were still in Argentina: narrow dirt roads lined with picturesque adobe dwellings, shops and restaurants, all set against a backdrop of vibrantly colourful hills which hemmed in the town to all sides. 

The Plaza was small and shady; two clay Indian figures cavorted at its centre and it was apparent that this area still has a strong indigenous culture – one only had to look at the faces manning the colourful craft stalls that lined the square to see their native ancestry. Each corner had a tortilla lady, turning her wares on a hot charcoal grill to produce melt-in-the-mouth cheese and salami pastry parcels.

The beautiful Iglesia de Santa Rosa with its simple white washed adobe walls sits at the top of the Plaza next to a 500 year old algarrobo tree and as we walked around the charming streets, it was nice to see that although new buildings and hotels were going up, they were keeping the earthen adobe design with its soft rounded corners. 

The Casa de la Abuela Hotel is one such place where modern and traditional meet very successfully and it is only a block from the plaza. La Comarca to the north of the town is similar and has a fabulous view over the mountain which they call the Cerro de las Siete Colores. This is reputed to have seven colours in all its various layers which vary from the predominant green to reds and pinks. 

Unfortunately, we did not have great weather when we were there, so did not see it at its best, but I strongly recommend the 3 km Paseo de los Colorados walk, or drive, that leaves from the old cemetery. It winds through a multitude of rainbow hued hills, the rich red terracotta ones being particularly striking: keep an eye out for little tracks leading off to scenic viewpoints.

Paso de Jama

At 4,750 m, this is one of the highest paved passes between Argentina and Chile. We decided it would be an interesting drive and indeed it was, at times so bizarre that it reminded me of some weird American road trip.

It is about 260 km from Purmamarca and the road winds through some stunning, if somewhat desolate, scenery. Initially climbing through steep arid mountains to the Abra de Lipan pass at 4,170 m, we were surprised to see that people still cling to precarious pieces of fertile ground in the narrow valleys, with tiny fields and adobe houses that must be little changed since pre Hispanic times. It was bitterly cold at the pass and I felt I should almost buy something from the tourist stall there to reward the poor girl.

As we dropped down from the pass, the bright reflection of the Salinas Grandes shone on the plain below. There are small modern factories mining these salt flats, but the roadside stops are manned by the indigenous communities and worth a wander: there are little cacti or llamas carved in salt and some stalls selling tasty goats cheese empanadas or tortillas. The shelters themselves are made out of salt bricks which look very solid, sandwiched together with earth. If you want to drive on the salt pans, you have to pay for a local guide at the easternmost side – we just contented ourselves with a photo beside the giant salt llama.

The westernmost stop allows one to walk out onto the salt pans which are actually far whiter on that side and much better for photography, with sequences of salt pools carved out of their surface. We motored on, accompanied by a host of motorcycles who were obviously enjoying the twists and turns of the route.

The scenery was slightly wilder now, with a profusion of cacti which were just beginning to break into flower. There was some more bushy vegetation and we saw llamas and donkeys beside the road: the llamas sported brightly coloured pieces of wool in their ears which are apparently a fertility charm, while the slender wild vicuna blended into the rich yellows of the desert with their fine fawny coats. Remote roads led off into the wild and a skull on a post caught the eye.

Susques sounded interesting but proved to be a rather ramshackle adobe town whose inhabitants seemed to be largely drunk. It has a famous colonial church dating back to 1598 which was sadly closed but we were able to admire its encircling thatch topped walls and roof.  4 km further on we encountered one of those desolate road houses that only exist in the middle of nowhere. The petrol pump was covered in overlanding stickers and was cash only.

It only took us another hour to reach Jama, 5 km before the border. The road was largely straight, leading through more salt flats and mountains; in the wide open landscape it was easy to see the storms coming and near Jama there was some fresh snow on the tops. It was a world of yellowing grasses and broken sunlight on hills, dark stormy clouds and scattered adobe ruins. A scarecrow had been attached to a post and hitchhiked fruitlessly. Ruta 52 was reminding me of some of the wilder parts of Route 66 through the Mojave Desert in California

We turned round at Jama when we reached the border posts and retraced our steps. A coffee stop led us into the hills where we found a derelict bus and the mummified head of a donkey. Later we stopped above the salt flats before Susques and wild camped under the desert skies, lights twinkling merrily away on the plain below. At just under 4000 m, I found my heart pounding strangely in my head all night and did not sleep well despite the glorious silence.

Tilcara

The following day we were soon back in Purmamarca and onto the main route north through the valley. The Posta de Hornillos is an old staging post just before Malmara and it is well worth the AR$80 entrance fee. Built in 1772 at a time when travellers and donkey trains could cover 20 km a day if they were lucky, it was taken over by the Army in 1810 during the Wars of Independence – you can still see the stands running along the inside of the walls from where they stood guard. It is surprisingly spacious with 3 shady inner courtyards and its displays cover everything from carriages to firearms. There is another glorious algarrobo tree, this one 400 years old, just outside the building.

We detoured briefly for Malmara, but found it a scuffy town with rubbish strewn streets so we motored on to Tilcara where we checked into the El Jardin camping on the edge of town. It was a nice spacious campsite and we put our tent in an isolated spot; when we returned later we could not believe that there was another tent within a metre of it!

We strolled down Belgrano into the heart of the town and checked out the Museo Arqueologico which gave some insight the excavations at Pucara, the ancient hilltop site above town. Their AR$350 admission covered both entries, but only about two rooms seemed to be open which was a bit disappointing.

The Plaza seemed to have lower quality stalls than Purmamarca so we consoled ourselves with a coffee at the excellent little bookshop cum cafe La Ekeka. It was good to drink decent coffee again and they had some pretty mean cakes too – and fast WiFi . Around the corner there is a lively market with some good food stalls: a great opportunity to try locro, the hearty local stew made of corn and meat.

Curiously, there was also an extensive second hand clothes section at the back with some good designer names; we worked out that they were probably job lots from American thrift shops – perhaps what they cannot sell is shipped out this way.

Pucara would just be a pile of jumbled rock, had it not been excavated in the early 20th century and partially rebuilt. The result is fairly soulless but there are fabulous views from the cacti strewn site which covers 6 hectares all around the hill. This is crowned by a pseudo pyramid commemorating the archaeologists, the construction of which wrote off a fair few remains, as did the vehicle road to it! At the bottom there are llama corrals and a graveyard with round stone tombs: the bodies were wrapped and bound then placed in a sitting position in the grave. It was occupied as far back as the 11th century, but was then conquered by the Incas before the arrival of the Spanish finished it off

The adjacent high altitude garden allows you to come up close to a cactus, if you haven’t done so already, and is worth a wander with its shady seats and a curious rock which when struck rings just like a bell. 

The other site which is promoted in Tilcara is the walk to the Garganta del Diablo, a deep narrow gorge from where the water is now largely diverted. 600 metres above the gorge there is a natural waterfall in the wide canyon, which while pleasant enough is nothing spectacular. We parked in the valley just beyond the start of the walk, but nevertheless, it was still a long, hot, 2 km climb up the hill. You can actually just drive, on precarious mountain roads, to the canyon where you pay AR$100 to descend the final 200m. However, it is a nice walk: the best solution would be to get a taxi up, then walk down, so getting the full benefit of the colourful hills on the far side of the valley from Tilcara without the initial uphill slog. It is also a pleasant route on horseback – this can easily be arranged in town.

Uquia

The Tropic of Capricorn, which is marked by a giant sundial and a little monument, is crossed a few kilometres north of Tilcara.  Just beyond, the 17th century church at Uquia was closed for restoration – it is famous for its paintings of gun toting, armour clad angels which sound intriguing, almost like the American view of religion! Lunch at the nearby Cerro Las Senoritas is recommended – ring the doorbell to get in and be sure to arrive early as it is very small. The Hosteria de Uquia is also a decent little hotel on the corner opposite the church and makes a delightfully quiet base.

The Quebrada de las Senoritas gorge in the hills above the town is worth the 1.8 km uphill plod with its stunning jumble of mountain pinnacles and peaks in all sorts of vivid colours. Passing the cemetery on our return, we explored the graves: they are particularly striking in this region as they are often decorated with huge garlands of garish flowers.

Humahuaca

At Humahuaca we decided to head east some 26 km to the Serrania de Hornocal, a mountain range with serrated layers of brilliant colour. The twisty gravel road took us up to a lookout at 4,340 m, from where if you were brave you could descend to another lower viewpoint. A sign warned at the start that it was advisable not to attempt the walk due to the effects of altitude, but just in case, there was an ambulance standing by! Taking it easy on the uphill return route, we encountered no problems – though it was quite amusing to watch everyone puffing and panting up the hill.

Humahuaca is a lively little town though we found the Monumento a la Independencia rather overwhelming: it appears to have been bulldozed right through the centre and would not be out of place in Soviet Russia. However the multitude of stone steps leading up to it seem to be a popular courting spot and there is a good range of craft stalls at the bottom.

On Plaza Gomez, the Iglesia de la Candelaria was built in 1641 and a quick peek will reveal the lovely cactus wood panelling and the doll like statues on the golden altar. The nearby Cabildo (town hall) is famous for the statue of San Francisco Solano which emerges at 12 noon to deliver a blessing – he gathers quite a crowd.

North to the Border with Bolivia

Exploring further north, our route took us through dramatic gorges and magnificent mountains. We abandoned our planned visit to the Laguna de los Pozelos, a nature reserve 50 km northwest of Abra Pampa which is known for its flamingos: the road was simply too rough and muddy after recent rain and it would have taken forever to get there. Instead we followed Ruta 9 and Ruta 40 (from Buenos Aires and Ushuaia respectively) to their end in La Quiaca on the Bolivian border, crossing the high puna lands where llama farming appears to be the major occupation. 

Our road was paralleled by an extinct railway, the tracks sometimes strangely hanging in mid air where wash outs had occurred, the bridges often askew – it reached Jujuy in 1891 but only got to La Quiaca in 1908. Nevertheless, it had a profound effect on opening up the region, especially when one thinks that the first car wasn’t even seen in Jujuy until 1910. We stopped at a couple of old railway stations which must have been quite smart once but are now fairly derelict. Puesto del Marques has a ticket office building, a water tower and a station master’s house; around the back are little line working carriages and other pieces of railway paraphernalia. The abandoned tracks stretched away into the distance, still in remarkably good shape,  and it was all very atmospheric.

 La Quiaca was certainly nothing to write home about, but we were amused to see people dashing for the border with fully laden trolleys and a lot of things being sold out of the boot of a car: I think there might be a lively cross border trade going on!

Yavi

16 km to the east, there is a little puna town called Yavi, which is famous for its adobe buildings and colonial church. The buildings are falling into disrepair but the Iglesia de  Nuestra Senora del Rosario y San Francisco de Asis was indeed splendid: built from 1676 to 1690, it would appear to be a simple white building with a single tower. However, step through the heavy green wooden door and you are confronted with a splendid golden gleam from the heavy retablo and pulpit, richly carved and ornamented with a variety of statues. The windows are of fine onyx, giving a rich glow, especially when mounted cleverly behind the little central cross. It was all totally unexpected in a rather middle of nowhere place.

On the opposite side of the cobbled road is the Casa del Marques Campero y Tojo which dates back to the 18th century; it was owned by a family who were granted large areas of the puna by Philip V of Spain and consists of a succession of rooms around a large courtyard. There are displays on the local history and lives of those from the area which were quite interesting. One side of the complex was under restoration, which gave a good idea of the construction methods used.

Wandering along rough cobbled streets, we found many interesting old adobe houses and at the Mirador, a superb view over the valley which lies below the town. It was obviously very well watered and fertile and one can see the remains of a fascinating network of stonewalled tracks and paths winding up through the hills. It would be an easy area in which to spend a few days exploring them. 

Last night at Laguna de Colorada

Our route to Yavi had given us a super view of a flowing series of green mountains, their strata depicting every shade of greens and creams. Now we detoured into these handsome hills, known as the Ocho Hermanos (or eight brothers), on a rather rough if passable road, to the Laguna de Colorada. A natural lagoon nestled amidst the hills, the rocky outcrops which surround it are the location for some fascinating prehistoric petroglyphs – though beware of the odd modern interloper. 

We wild camped in the car park above the lagoon and enjoyed a ringside seat for a terrific thunder and lightning storm which seemed to be coming from all sides at once in a such a tremendous stereo that it put the vicunas to flight. 

It was a suitably dramatic finale to our explorations of a very dramatic region within north western Argentina.  Pining for green, we decided to move on to the rain forests on the eastern side of those mountains, not far as the crow flies, but a world away in contrast..

Notes

Car hire is readily available in Salta. We spent about 10 days on the above section. There are numerous hotel and camping options en route.