My third trip to Patagonia was tremendous, great weather for all but one day and my best survey of the acclaimed mountain hostels that now number 15 in all. Once sleepy El Bolson, fabled hippie haven flanked by monumental mountain ranges, is growing at a stunning rate, and I counted a dozen new craft beer cervezerias that were not there two seasons ago. This is not all bad, as more options is usually a benefit to locals and visitors alike. The town is still clean and filled with flowers and trees, and it’s well equipped to handle the big increase in travelers that seems inevitable. It’s one of Argentinas many gems and seems destined for mass tourism soon, but it’s a unique venue and worthy of all the attention.
The cheapest way to access the main trailhead at Wharton is still the Golondrina bus, which has three round trips most days. As the number of visitors has increased, all are now required to register online prior to arrival at http://anprale.com/registro/ Each member of the party is issued a number which must be available for the rangers trailer at Wharton on the road to the main trailhead up the Blue River. They are obviously monitoring the number of hikers more closely than ever, which is a good thing for everybody, as they can advise on which refugios will have room, and which could be fully booked. The day we walked up, there were two separate groups of school kids on supervised overnight outings.resulting in full houses and absolutely no room at LaPlayita and La Tronconada.
If your timing is wrong on the return leg and the wait for the bus back to town is excessive, cabs can be hailed for a reasonable price from El Polaco across the street from the forest station. They also sell useful items and food and drink and are very friendly and helpful.
The trail up this canyon is the same as before, superb, with plenty of signs at every trail junction. There are now 15 different mountain hostels, up from a dozen as of two years ago. The Cajon Azul hut is in full operation, and La Horqueta was closed which was likely temporary. We made the first day a long one, marching 14 km to my personal fave, El Retamal, almost empty, very unusual, and it filled up the next night. Mariano and Bardala are now running the lodge, and it is in immaculate condition, comf inside and out. The 45 minute hike up the draw to Paso de los Ventos is worth every minute and step, and a supreme vista of the adjacent canyon brings into binocular view all three of the refugios in that zone, El Conde, La Horqueta, and the very cush Casa de Campo.
The party crowd filled every bunk and floorspace that night, or more accurately early morning, and the next morning a cordero was propped up and cooking. Casa de Campo has a privileged location beneath a viewpoint hill, although the river is a few minutes walk away. It’s a significant addition to the lodging options available, as the capacity is plenty and the amenities the equal.
Plush indoor showers, and 700 pesos a night per person, same as El Retamal and 300 more than neighboring El Conde, which is about as down home and simple as it gets up here. Some folks will still prefer that cheaper choice when money is a consideration, and the setting is still select, but from now on, for me it’s Retamal and Casa del Campo. I also received nothing but rave reviews for distant Los Laguitos refugio, another 10 km and 450 vertical meters up from these next ones down the Blue Rio.
That leaves half a dozen refugios that I still haven’t visited; Perito Moreno, Encanto Blanco, and Dedo Gordo, all north of the Rio Azul, and Cerro Lindo, Natacion, and Hielo Azul to the south. I plan to get to them all down the line, which will no doubt see more big growth and changes in El Bolson. In the meantime, which is prime time, this stretch of the southern Andes will continue to be backpackers paradise and compulsory for any traveler looking for the best of South America. Go, Do, and Be.
El Bolson Vitals:
Lodging options are very numerous now, and I had the good fortune to discover Casas Chaura, 5 different plush apartments a few blocks from the center and loaded with every possible convenience.
For couples or groups this is a no brainer, as the location is perfect, the cabanas loaded with extras, and the price is quite economical for the quality of the place. Nils is the perfect host, very generous with his time and advice, and he was the guy who let us know about the Casa de Campo anniversary blow out. It’s an excellent base for visitors who want to stay comfortable.
Nils also directed us to the new, spacious, and very nice A Gusto restaurant, with a giant patio, right in the middle of town at Dorrego 539. First rate food and service and priced right. There are dozens of other choices now, although the once venerated La Gorda is long gone. But the craft beer bars have proliferated, they are everywhere, and most serve quality grub as well.
Few creatures have been as celebrated, mythologized and ultimately enslaved as the misnamed Killer Whale, actually the largest, and most intriguing of the entire dolphin family. I was raised, like many, on a TV diet of Flipper and Sea Hunt, and later entertained by the aquatic circus at Sea World. The reality of what I was watching never hit me until much later, after the documentary Blackfish revealed the ghastly truth behind the scenes. Orcas and other wild animals are best served and appreciated wild, and just seeing them where they belong is astounding.
There is an isolated beach on the Atlantic coast of Argentina where the southern Orcas gather, and it’s the only place in the world where they actually beach themselves to hunt sea lions. This has been made famous in videos, but just like a virtuoso concert, nothing beats live.
The venue is a peninsula called the Valdez, one of Argentina’s outstanding national parks, situated about a thousand miles south of Buenos Aires. The portal entry is Puerto Madryn, an attractive city that is the wintertime retreat of avid watchers of the Southern Right Whale, which converge here by the score from June until December. Excursion boats full of enthusiasts leave here to get a close look at the mighty earthlings, and when that season fades, the Orcas begin to show.
Their happy place is out on the far northeast point of this remarkable cape, at an isolated beach called Punta Norte. Halfway there lies the only real town on the peninsula, Puerto Piramides, where a couple of hundred folks live here year round, swelling to several times that in peak season from January through March. The setting is a marvelous bay surrounded by sandy bluffs where the wildlife far outnumbers the humans, my kind of place. The dive and kayak shops fill up with customers in the make hay days, and there are dozens of lodging options available, including camping, right behind the town beach.
Punta Norte is 75 wide open, uninhabited kilometers away, a virtually treeless stretch with head high bushes and dozens of long necked Guanacos munching on them. The ranger station at Punta Norte is a well equipped outpost with facilities to handle a large amount of people, including bathrooms and a cafe. A long boardwalk overlooking the beach provides the viewing platform, and this is as close to the action as visitors are allowed. An 8 iron down the beach is a large group of sea lions that occupy a stretch of beach, and this is where your attention is drawn. A number of them are always in the water adjacent to the group, and this is where the action is.
The killers tend to show up in a six hour window surrounding high tide, when the water level provides closest proximity to the beach. Spectators arrive early in this cycle and begin setting up their vantage points for the expected arrival of the big black and whites. A majority of the visitors sport serious cameras, many with two foot lens, and the waiting begins. I was wandering around the station for less than an hour when the word came out that a pod had been spotted approaching from the south. The rangers here, and there are many, keep a constant watch out for the Orcas with binoculars, and they communicate that to the station. So everybody takes their place along the wooden rail, and soon enough clouds of vapor appear are visible a quarter mile down the coast.
In a couple of minutes the big black dorsal fins are visible, including one jumbo triangle, straight as an isosceles, two meters in height. This is a male known as Ajuela, and I had the sensation of viewing a cruising u boat. All the Orcas are positively identified by their dorsal fins and individual white markings, and all have been named. The Punta Norte Orca Research organization has catalogued 15 of the most frequent visitors, including Lea, Jasmine, and Mel, another big male who was thought to be 49 years old a few years ago. He hasn’t been seen in a few years now, and likely is deceased as the average life expectancy for males is 50 years, 30 less than the females, a giant gap between the sexes.
Most of the Orcas are consistent visitors, so many have been observed for years, although they are never touched or contacted with in any manner. So, 14 year old Pao is known the son of Ishtar, and another teenager, Mela, is the offspring of Jasmine. As of now, no more than ten of these animals are known to practice the rare technique of hunting by intentional beaching, and this is the only place in the world where it’s been witnessed by humans. And the orcas do practice the move, in preparation for the real thing, and sometimes the lions elude the end.
I didn’t get to see an attack, but had a close look at the pod of 11 as it swam by northbound, and returning about half an hour later. The principal impression was how relaxed and unhurried the killers are, casually passing by the mass of lobos, like they were just out for a relaxed family swim. Some of the veterans demonstrate the move for the greenhorns, and they always help the youngsters get back into the water if needed with a bump or a shove. Dry runs like these are common and seem to help the hunters get some reps even if they don’t result in a full seal meal.
Straight up it’s an invigorating display of nature at its’ wildest, and induces lots of visitors to come back over and over to see it again. I got lucky, going one for one, but guarantee my return next season for, so far, the best show ever.
This beguiling valley is only 190 kilometers southeast of Salta, capitol of the province, and that drive is surely one of the panoramic expanses of landscape in all of Argentina. The route on Highway 68 passes through the fertile pastures of the Lema Valley before crossing into the remarkably rugged mountains surrounding the Calchique valleys. Once past the last real settlement at La Vina, the highway twists through steep, amole, aka, ‘shin dagger’cactus covered ridges before entering the eroded spectacle of the jaw dropping Quebrada de las Conchas, the Gorge of the Shells. This gave me a profound Utah flashback, with every shade of red earth carved into extraordinary forms, evoking the usual impulse of ‘let’s get in there’.
Passing through this region at sunset really puts the proper shade on these hills, and the reflection on the small yet stunning Rio de las Conchas is mesmerizing. There are several signed rock formations, including the Devil’s Throat, the Obelisk, and the Toad, and thousands more further away from the highway. It reminded me of the Canyonlands in Utah, with fluted walls of petrified mud, and hollowed out grottos and slot canyons like the Pariah Plateau. It’s the kind of place where your hiking boots are waiting like a dog at the door.
So the method is to get into Cafayate, get a place to base out of, and then get back up to this quebrada. I was able to get some excellent tips from Juan, the owner of Muna bikes, about how to get up to a sublime 8k loop. From the terminal, take any Salta bound bus to km 24, El Paso, just past the Obelisk at km 22. There is no sign other than a barrier blocking entry into this wash, and this is the entrance. Follow the abundant horse and footprints to the east, as this wash begins to tighten up and close in. Plenty of side ravines drop into this one, providing heaps of opportunities to explore more, but continuing on in the main one is the idea. The sandy bottom eventually runs out and an easy slick rock climb emerges onto a Martian red mesa which overlooks another vast high desert delta, beyond which lie cloud topped peaks, a dazzling sight.
It’s all downhill from here, treading the well worn path across the vermillion scape past some curious rock figures and down into the jumbo wash. This marks a solid left turn, and this drainage is followed all the way back to the highway just a flat half hour away. The end intersects the highway at a site known as ”La Yesera’, where fossilized fish are the remnants of the last ocean to cover the Americas 15 million years ago. The stone layers surrounding the area are visual evidence of the array of minerals found here, with gypsum, borax, cobalt, copper and sulfur all lending their tint to the terracotta scape.
The river on the other side of the highway is easy to get down to and offers a fine place to cool off and splash. I startled a flock of parrots that were ensconced in a bushy tree and other than that the only sound for hours was the wind. There’s a roadside store called El Zorrito that is visible a quarter mile away and that’s where I hung in the shade until the Cafa bound bus rolled by again. 50 pesos going out, and 58 from 4k further away on the return. This theme can be repeated at any number of attractions farther into the quebrada, such as the Garganta del Diablo and Anfiteatro 20 k up the road, both of which attract plenty of visitors. There is no lack of shade in the recesses of the canyon I walked up, but none the rest of the way, so adequate water and a hat are essential, and some grub is a fine idea.
This entire panorama is utterly astounding, with loads of other named formations such as the Friars, and the Castles, and several good long days could be spent investigating the area. Depending on the amount of sun and the time of day, the earth changes colors here much like sections of the Grandest Canyon, in Arizona. Visually, it’s a treat, and easy to access, as the busses from Salta are running at regular intervals. The chalky white hills called the Medanos are found at km 6 on the way back towards town, another inviting place to walk through the sand dunes.
The town of Cafayate is a unique locale, sitting in the middle of these spectacular canyons to the east and the hulking cordillera to the west and much closer. Surrounded by 30 something bodegas, many quite celebrated, in some respects it’s like a much smaller Mendoza. It’s certainly on the tourist circuit, judging from the quantity of long distance motorcyclist groups which roll through here, and obviously a favorite stay over location. The central plaza is one of the best in Argentina, loaded with trees and birds, grassy and shady, and the locals hang out here for hours. This unsullied square is fronted by businesses on all sides, primarily sidewalk cafes, shops, and wine stores. The foremost church here is resplendent yellow on the north and is next door to an exceptionally helpful tourist office, providing details on accomodations and all things vital to travelers.
I rented a bike from Juan at Muna twice and tooled around town, first heading west out through the vineyards, towards the mountain range which was usually capped with clouds. Passing by the Quara vineyards, I pulled in for a free tour but the place was closed during siesta time in the early afternoon. This is the rule around these parts, similar to the hot parts of Mexico, but that’s when I tend to be most active. I’ve taken plenty of tours in Mendoza, California, and New Zealand, so although I enjoy them, it’s not a priority. One km further on is Etchart Vineyards, and much of this stretch features a paved bike path which parallels the road and provides a safe buffer zone from the motorized parade. When I crossed over 3 meters of brushy dirt to get on it, my tires picked up a few dozen ‘goathead’ sticker thorns, which took me a few minutes to remove but fortunately none punctured the tubes, which can happen easily.
Directly across the highway from Quara is the renowned Estancia de Cafayate, a well financed development that includes a posh hotel and villas, golf course, homesites, and its’ own 70 year old vineyards. I was curious to see what the spread looked like, but the gate guard informed me that I could neither ride nor walk in, but I was welcome to return in an automobile. I wasn’t that curious, and never made it back. I did wheel around for long enough to get hot and tired, and a significant portion of the residents use bikes for transportation. It’s a fine community to ride in, as traffic isn’t too excessive or manic, and most of that is in the center.
The next day I biked towards the east, crossing the bone dry Rio Chusche and rolled north on Route 2 beneath rows of Poplar trees and through miles of grapevines similar to the westward ruta del vino. The Piatelli Vineyards are 3 km up the road on the right, and this path can be followed for many more across high desert to Domingo Molina. I explored the northern limits of Cafayate on my return, and there’s much more to the northern residential section than the southern part.
All the blocks are laid out on a grid, but not all the roads go through and almost all are dirt. I managed to get a little lost and turned around as I was searching for a different way to get back to the town centro. There is also another excellent route to roll on, by taking 25 de Mayo north off Hwy 40 on the west edge of town and heading towards the Rio Colorado. This will lead to Cueva del Sur, an archeological site with caves and petroglyphs, and just up the road a small bodega named Finca las Nubes, the Farm of Clouds. The small town of Divisadero is a kilometer away, with ruins of an ancient setlement and more intriguing geography, at the edge of the mountains where the Colorado and Lorohuasi rivers converge. There are more choice hiking and biking options here, winding through boulders, and across creeks to scattered small waterfalls, reminiscent of the lush Catalina mountains in my old homeland.
I spent my downtime roaming the streets of Cafa, looking for new places to check out, relax, and refuel. There is a range of choices for food and drink, especially on the plaza, but I returned to the reliable as often as not. These were El Hornito, with its’ trademark empanada oven out front, and El Chelo, where the locals converge for hearty, cheap sandwiches. Both are on the same street, Rivadavia, a quick walk from the plaza. The former serves excellent grilled meals and empanadas and a sidewalk table is a terrific vantage point to watch the locals on the move. I met several travelers here from Europe and North America and we traded information and ideas over fine wine and cold beers. El Chelo was where I started each morning with first class coffee accompanied by a sandwich to go, to munch on later.
Cafayate lived up to its reputation and I plan to return to the area soon, along with some time in the very different Tafi del Valle on the way towards Tucuman. Passing through here on the bus back south gave me a glimpse of countryside that evoked Switzerland, pastoral and beyond pretty, and the wet cloud forest dropping off this high plateau is a drive not to be missed in any weather conditions. The more of northern Argentina I visit, the more motivated I am to get back.
Muna Bikes, where I rented my metal steed, is also a casual cafe and tavern, serving homemade meals, snacks, and ice cold beers. Juan is a wealth of information about biking and hiking options in the area, and his place is located on the street directly behind the cathedral on the plaza. This is a good place to start any outdoor adventure in the area, and the bikes come with helmet, pump, repair kit, lock and map. Very handy, and very economical. Calchaqui 70 +54 291 418 2122
Hostal ‘El Portal de las Vinas’, is located on the same street as the cathedral, Nuestra Senora del Rosario 165. All private rooms, very cool and quiet due to thick adobe walls, with a nice courtyard and good wifi. Air conditioning, cable TV, and budget friendly. +54 3868 42 1098
I traveled to this region earlier in the year, spending my time in Tilcara, 45 kilometers to the south in this massive quebrada. I was focused on learning a new area, so I came to Humahuaca, a much larger village, and that much closer to my real objective of the otherworldly settlement of Iruya.
Humahuaca is situated at 1100 feet altitude, much like Tilacara and Purmamarca, its closest neighbors. Tourism seems to be the economic driver here, and there are a few features that visitors can access, such as the giant salt flats to the west, Valle Grande and Calilegua National Park to the southeast, and the celebrated multicolored hills throughout this immense gorge. The town itself has a historic center with narrow cobblestone streets, a clean traditional plaza with lots of shade trees, and all sorts of monuments. Chief among these is the very prominent memorial to the ‘Heroes of the Independence’ two blocks west of the plaza, with a promenade of steps leading up to a towering statue of the heroes, sitting atop the municipal museum of archeology. The views from the top are splendid, and it’s obvious a lot of work was devoted to this site. Colonial style street lamps lend a lovely light, and this is a worthy place to witness the dusk settle over the big valley.
As in many of these isolated towns, there are a number of renowned old cathedrals and cultural centers, along with open air markets, a clock tower, and souvenir shops galore.
Several outfitters can transport travelers to other points of interest outside of town, and there are ample opportunities for biking, hiking, and long distance trekking. I stayed two nights en route to a planned circuit of southern Bolivia, but my main purpose here was to get to Iruya, a place I had been inspired to visit by many who already had.
The turnoff to Iruya is 19 km north of Humahuaca on Hwy. 9, and from then on it’s 54 km of dusty, bumpy, serpentine and steep pitches into the valley where the village sits perched on a mountain shelf at 2800 meters. Even a mountain dweller is likely to feel the altitude here which is deceiving, as this is the bottom of a valley, but there are 5000 meter mountains both north and south of here. 150 Argentine pesos was the fare, and while the destination is quite the payoff, scenic splendor wise, the actual road there is an engineering marvel. The first part climbs steadily through a number of tiny settlements and grazing animals until it reaches the crest of a high ridge. The abundant cactus is in full bloom in early December, and several familiar Arizona cousins are blended with odd altiplano plants.
The landscape becomes more dramatic and steep with the distance until it falls off that pronounced ridge into a series of switchbacks where large white rocks mark the edges. Which is a good thing, as fog or rain could render visibility near zero here, and competent drivers in a solid 4wd could feel spooked and compelled to crawl along at 5 mph white knuckling this entire stretch. Our driver, piloting a creaky old 40 passenger bus, handled it all like a maestro, no doubt due to his prolific mileage on this king’s camino.
There is a religious shrine tucked into the big rocks at the top of this pass, and a crowd of locals were congregated here to mark some holy moment. Here it was downhill all the way into the bottom of a broad valley bordered by vertical cliffs and sheer bluffs. Finally the fabled pueblo comes into view, a postcard perched on the bottom of a precipitous mountain. I’ve never seen a place quite like it, and although some of the desert on the way in is stark and daunting, the living beauty is something else altogether. As John Muir or Ed Abbey might say, life affirming, at the very least.
I complimented the driver on his road skill getting off, and he told me would be departing at 2:30, about 3 hours away. My foot ramble commenced with a search for something to eat, wandering narrow stone streets up through the mostly adobe buildings. It was Sunday, and there was a crowd of folks in and around the striking yellow church, with the sermon broadcast via loudspeakers outside. Built in 1690, this structure is the most prominent of all here and has held up quite well. Stopping into a store with a sign advertising empanadas and such, a crusty old guy answered my query with, ‘No quedan nada, hippie’, ‘there’s nothing left’, which cracked me up, not so easy to do. I was sporting a daypack and no doubt looked like a vagrant of sorts, but this response surprised me. I do imagine that some of the locals get weary of the tourist day trippers, if only because this place is so isolated that everybody is an ‘us or them’ to some degree, and as many resist the changes as embrace them. And change used to be much slower here, for sure.
Continuing my climb up to the limits of the center, I arrived at a locked up cemetery with million dollar views. Looping back down a lane which could be skied with enough snow brought me back down to the people’s church, where I knocked out 3 small empanadas, carne and goat cheese at 15 pesos a piece.
This was enough fuel to do the trick and get me across the much newer, and solid as a rock pedestrian bridge which spans the broad and usually dry Iruya river, which must be a wild sight when it actually flows. I wandered through this other half of the village, mostly residential, with a jumbo dirt soccer field where first a boy’s team, and then the girl’s, each played a game.
It doesn’t take much time to see most of what’s here, and one more leisurely stroll delivered me to the most commercial block with a few hostels, cafes, and small stores surrounded a tiny covered plaza. The pace of life is slow in Iruya, sporadically interrupted by the tourist bus arrivals, and I killed the rest of my allotted time before returning to the idling bus at 2:15. Which was fortuitous, as after I paid my 150 for the return fare we took off at 2:19, with just a handful of riders and nobody I could recall from the ride in. So maybe all those visitors were staying the night, but if not they missed the ‘boats’ early launch.
The ride out was as pretty as the ride in, with a new appreciation for the pitch, curviness and route of the mighty road, and the worshippers were all still up around the shrine when we passed over the top. A couple of pick ups and drop offs later, and a quick pull in at the only real village on the way, San Isidro. The 73 kms between Humahuaca and Iruya takes almost 3 hours in good conditions, so a day trip definitely uses up a day. It is an amazing destination and worth the time, but plenty of peeps would enjoy an overnight stay to further absorb the glacial pace of the place. There are trails heading out in all directions, most going straight up, and mountain biking is likewise an option for fun. Don’t miss it if the opportunity presents itself.
I stayed at the excellent La Humahuacasa hostel, 2 blocks from the central plaza at Buenos Aires 740. Paola and Juan are exceptional hosts, providing a tasty basic breakfast and super useful local knowledge on the area’s delights. Shared and private rooms are very economical, the wifi is good, and a fully equipped kitchen and outdoor grill is ready to go. It makes for a fine base while exploring the area.
There is no shortage of places to eat, ranging from swank tourist cafes to ultra local eateries offering everything from humitas to llama burgers. Just on the other side of Belgrano avenida is a sizable outdoor market where the locals buy everything from clothes and appliances to produce. This is the right place to stretch a peso to the limit.
There are a bunch of outfitters catering to vacationers looking to explore the countryside, trekking or biking, and excursions of all time frames and costs. The Bolivian border at La Quiaca is 160 km north, the appealing Tilcara 42 k to the south, with San Salvador de Jujuy, capitol city of the province and a major hub, another 84 k down Highway 9.
It’s surely one of the most impressive cities in South America, and a must see for any traveler, even folks who prefer the countryside. Having said that, it is a gigantic mass of humanity, and for many, two days and nights could be plenty. So here’s what to see and do to get a good return for 48 hours of your precious time, and without blowing your wad, as in budget, perv….
One thing that will prove to be very efficient and thrifty is to purchase a blue Subte card from kiosks and ticket windows in the subway stations, and there are many. The cost is minimal, so put some credit on there, which for two people for two days is about AR$300, less than US$10. Thus will get you around and downtown and back, as long as it’s before midnight, when the tracks stop dead. This will cut taxi costs by 90%. There are now six lines, and though they don’t cover the entire city, most notably La Boca, but they will get you close to most of the special sites and cool places.
I prefer to stay in the vast Palermo neighborhood, which actually encompasses Palermo Viejo, Soho, and Hollywood. This sector contains much of the very best eateries, bars, and nightclubs, so it makes sense to stay here instead of San Telmo, or elsewhere in the city center. I’d rather go there in the daytime and then return to Palermo for serious night tripping.
There are hundreds of affordable places to stay in Palermo, and I always use one of the hotel and hostel websites to locate them. Locations around Plaza Armenia and Plaza Italia are ideal, and basically anywhere in the giant grid surrounded by Santa Fe and Cordoba, and between Scalabrini Ortiz and Arevalo provide walking access to the prime spots.
So, without further ado, here’s a master plan for extracting the juice from this planet sized city. Hop on the subway, lines B or D and ride to 9 de Julio station, and transfer to line C, there’s no extra charge. Get off and up at Independencia station and walk 5 blocks east to Defensa street, and follow it south to Plaza Dorrego. This is the heart of San Telmo, with heaps of old school BA flavor. There are lots of economical places to eat and drink, and every Sunday a huge street market. From here it’s a leisurely walk north through the Montserrat district to arrive at Plaza Mayo, surrounded by historical buildings and sites. Just a couple of blocks towards the water sits the swank Puerto Madero hood, which seems like it’s a different country altogether. New and modern is the rule here, and it makes for an enjoyable stroll past some landmarks such as the Puente de Las Mujeres, the Women’s Bridge.
Continuing our march, we can trod past the Obelisk, smack dab in the middle of absurdly wide 9 de Julio Avenue, and walk on up Cordoba through the core of downtown or hop on at any subway station, connect to line H and unload at Aguero station. Here it’s a 12 block walk through the scrubbed Recoleta neighborhood, with lots of luxury for sale and rent and one extraordinary cemetery.
This is truly a walled mini city of the dead, with some very over the top tombs, holding the remains of many illustrious ‘Portenos’ such as Eva Peron. For myself, almost as impressive is the enormous Gomero tree in front of the entrance. The shade provided by this mammoth is extraordinary, and some of the lateral branches are now supported by braces. It’s a Swiss family Robinson monster, but don’t try to climb it.
The massive tree in front of La Recoleta cemetery
But back to the cemetery, where many of the mausoleums are like miniature buildings and absurdly gaudy. The closest subway access is the Aguero station on the new H line, which connect lines A, B, D, and E. The cemetery is free, although aficionados of such places may want to contract a guide to help navigate the hive of walkways and seemingly endless tombs. Recoleta is a shiny, expensive part of the city, but this city of the dead is worth an hour or two. After this trek a late lunch and siesta is deserved, so get back to your lodging and take a break. You deserve a brownie or a beer, take your pick.
Tonight is the night to take advantage of early dinner happy hour pricing at one of the first rate beef houses, which is a stalwart of the dining scene in BA. La Cabrera, at the corner of Thames and Cabrera, offers a 40% discount of the total check if you make it in to eat before 7:15. This is hours before the locals even begin to think about dinner and an opportunity to experience prime Argentine cuisine at a decent price. The big ribeye is perfect to share with a salad and a bottle of Malbec, and after this the tank will be full. Time to take a walk a few blocks across the tracks to Palermo Hollywood, and sample a few bars.
San Telmo’s Sunday Street Fair
A great first stop is Frank’s, almost hidden on Arevalo between Conde and Niceto. First pick up the phone and ask to come in, or state your reservation name, Then the bouncer will emerge, give you the once over, and if you’re accepted, let you enter a classy, old school cocktail lounge with a long bar and heavy drinks. Stay as long as you like.
Then, shuffle north and a couple of blocks west to Humboldt, turn right, and enter the Ferona Social Club, another hidden gem with a comfortable rooftop patio and lots of cush sofas and chairs. Our next stop is right around the corner at Carnal, with multi levels and a great place to meet friendly Portenos. Finally, now you’re ready to cross Niceto Vega and go in the fabled Niceto Club, a big place with two sides of music, one always live. This is where you can dance and kick out the jams until the sun comes up, or you hit the wall.
Day 2 begins with a stroll around Palermo to find some coffee and breakfast, and the choices number in the dozens. After fortification walk south towards the river and check out the vast parks that stretch for several miles along Avenida Libertador. This is where the botanical garden, Japanese Gardens, Rose Gardens, and Modern Art Museum are found, and it’s where the fit folk run, walk, bike, and roll on miles of paths. On a sunny warm day there are heaps of active peeps here, and you can rent a bike, or skates, or a paddle boat and join in.
Sunday at the park
Lunch can be had at a thousand places on the way back to your Palermo pad, and a fave for healthy food is Mark’s Deli & Coffee House, at Armenia and El Salvador. Strolling around Palermo close to Plaza Armenia takes you by every hip clothing store in the city, and the shopping crowd can be very alluring. The choices for everything are countless, spend as much time as needed, but don’t blow your dough on something goofy.
Tonight dinner can be later, as there’s no deadline for anything. A celebrated spot is Nola Gastropub at Gorriti and Alvarez. Nothing fancy, just Cajun cuisine, as in Gumbo, fried chicken, and craft beer. Order off the board, grab your grub and sit outside and survey the scene. They also serve classics like sweetbreads, red beans and rice, and killer cornbread. Load up, kick back, and get ready to pub crawl.
Which begins at BrukBar, on the corner of Costa Rica and Santa Maria de Oro. Classic cocktails and a bunch of party people at a real locals hangout. Another worthy stop is On Tap Craft Beer at Costa Rica and Humboldt, with 20 local beers on tap and a chill vibe. Our main target tonight is Rosebar, a huge Miami Beach type club with a giant dance floor, outside patio, and talent off the charts. Women get dolled up here like it’s New Years Eve, and there’s a cover charge until late for all the dudes. It’s a huge scene, and sits right next to the railroad tracks on Honduras. This is definitely the place you want to be going into the 4th quarter, with the game on the line, if you’ve got it in you.
That’s enough to squeeze into 48 hours, especially in this metropolis, and likely enough special memories to reminisce for months. Buenos Aires is a whole lot of city, especially to live in, but for a weekend getaway, it can’t be beat.
Waterfalls are among earths finest features, happy places for millions and landmarks that punctuate the terrain and mark a change in levels. A torrent of water dropping off a cliff can be stared at for quite a spell, and many in the USA are fabled and mighty- Yosemite, Havasu, Yellowstone, Niagra. There is, however, one waterfall, way south of the equator, which exceeds almost all the others put together, and the effect it has on the senses makes it worth any effort to visit. The sheer scale of the place defies description, and invites absurd visual analogies, mine being, “As if the Mississippi River plummeted off the edge of the Grand Canyon”. No matter that the Canyon is close to a mile deeper than Iguasu Gorge, but the disbelief index is still fully engaged. Ansel Adams would have difficulty doing this place justice with pictures. It has to be seen to be believed possible, much less merely believed.
The Brazil portion of the Falls sports very nice and new visitor facilities, and everybody is loaded onto modern double decker busses for the ride a few kilometers to the viewing paths. A number of vista platforms connected by a kilometer of walkways provide very misty perspectives on one large section of the Falls. As many are just above the water, plastic bags and rain gear are invaluable, especially for photography purposes. Park admission was 37 reis, about $20, and there is an elevator to bring visitors from river level back up to the top where a restaurant and gift shop are located. The bus ride back completes the circuit, and several optional tours, on land and water, are available. Both parks are situated in prime rain forest, and critters abound, from coatimundis to monkeys, with lots of tropical butterflies and birds, including two types of fish eating eagles.
The Argentine side of the Falls offers a different experience altogether, with 6 kilometers of metal walkways and trails through the rainforest, and many more vistas of this extraordinary site. Admission is almost identical to Brazil’s park-$20, but that’s where the similarity ends. On the Brazil side, most of the trails are lower, just above the river, and the view is mostly up. Argentina’s park paths are almost all on top of the Falls, and the views are out, down, and superior. In addition to all the paths and trails, a small passenger train transports visitors several miles along the edge of the river out to a walkway that is perched on the rim of the river.Directly above the ‘Garganta del Diablo’, the Devil’s Throat, where a huge portion of the river drops into a 3 sided gorge, this is by far the most stunning section of all the Falls. The sheer force and volume of river dropping here literally leaves one reeling, and the hydraulic energy being released is seen, heard, and felt like an earthquake.
From Argentina’s side, many of the comparatively smaller falls, still huge, all named, and in the hundreds, can likewise be appreciated individually. The tremendous network of pathways makes it possible to leave the crowds behind and really enjoy some stellar rain forest, and the wilderness of Isla San Martin is just a short boat ride across the river. Lots of concession stands sell food and drink to fuel the footwork on the walkways, and there’s room to roam. If one day is all the time allotted for Iguasu, spend it here. And if you don’t get soaked, and I do mean waterlogged, you haven’t gotten close enough.
Iguasu straddles the border between Brazil and Argentina, and each country has it’s own national park with visitor facilities designed to get a really good look at the spectacle. The Brazilian side is reached from the city of Foz do Iguasu, 10 miles away. Brazil’s park development is newer, with modern shuttle busses that transport several miles from the Visitor Center to the one kilometer of walkways adjacent to one section of the falls. Various optional tours are available, including boat trips as close to the chaotic water as is possible. Just like the Argentine side, Brazil’s park also provides a luxury hotel steps away from the viewing paths, Hotel Das Cataratas, rates starting about $250 per night and maybe worth it. The Argentine park has it’s own posh counterpart, the Sheraton International, also nicely located walking minutes to the Falls. But there are many better value hotels towards and back in both towns. On the Argentine side, Puerto Iguasu has dozens of accommodations, budget to plush. Across the big river, in Foz do Iguasu, The San Rafael, directly downtown, has clean rooms, a nice pool and many amenities for a quarter of the 4 star price. Taxis are plentiful and a short ride can take you to Paraguay, just a bridge across the river, where care and safety precautions should be exercised. Some border areas can be dicey, and this is one of them.
It’s actually quite easy to get from one park to the other by using the city busses that continuously connect Foz do Iguasu with Puerto Iguasu, with a quick stop at the border crossing. And each country has it’s own airport adjacent to their park, if you’d rather forego the 8 hour night bus from Curitiba which I took. Connections from Sao Paolo, Rio, Porto Alegre and Buenos Aires are frequent.
I’d long heard about the city, fabled for beautiful women and big heat, and made it a point to see for myself coming back from farther north in Argentina. It’s an easy place to arrive and get around, as both the bus and train stations are located next to each other on Guzman boulevard, which runs along the Suquia River, which wraps around the north side of the city center. The streets are laid out on a grid, with many uniform, square blocks. Another feature is that almost every street is a one way, making it easy to maneuver on foot or a bike without feeling like you’re in traffic hell. As soon as I landed, I walked 11 blocks to the superb Hostel Terraza, one of the best I’ve stayed at. It sits 3 blocks away from Plaza San Martin, one of the historic points of historic interest. A number of well kept museums and cathedrals are within a short walk from this point.
Cordoba boasts an electric trolley, which runs on Belgrano Street, which becomes Tucuman after it crosses Dean Funes, which itself changes to Rosario de Santa Fe. This switching of street names is a confusing feature if rambling from one side of town to the other. Just be aware and get used to it, as it’s rather rare elsewhere. In terms of proximity,within a half kilometer radius of Plaza San Martin lie 18 different noted city attractions.
Once I dropped my pack and started exploring, I walked 15 minutes to the green grass of Parque Sarmiento, where many locals walk their dogs. There are a number of monuments here, including a tower that serves as a fine landmark. I wandered into the adjacent Museum of Natural Science, paid the 15 peso admission, and spent almost an hour examining all types of compelling things.
Mineral collection at the Museum of Natural Science
It’s worth at least double that amount, and also has a curved flying saucer roof that can be strolled to the top for a fine aerial view. It also must have been popular with skateboarders at one time, as a number of barriers have been installed to keep the rollers from enjoying the sloped roof.
Skating and rolling is discouraged Roof of the Natural Science Museum
Almost directly across the street is the ultra prominent Plaza Espana, notable for the fact that it is the point of convergence for 10 different avenues, all radiating outward from here. As populous a city as Cordoba is, with a million and a half residents, the center is surprisingly compact, and easy to walk. There’s plenty of traffic, but since 90% of the time it’s coming from one direction only, crossing streets is pretty much stress free.
Another notable intersection is the multi street terminus 6 diagonal blocks due north at basically the absolute center of the city center. Patio Olmos, Cordoba’s most important and prestigious shopping mall, is a striking multi facade building remodeled from a historic architectural structure. It faces the fountain roundabout at the intersection of Boulevard San Juan and Avenida Velez Sarfield, two of the foremost traffic arteries in the city. Two other main roads also converge here, and it’s a big open intersection where lots of people meet.
Patio Olmos Shopping Mall
There are a several streets just north of here which are now pedestrian walkways, lined with shops and historic buildings. he longest, at 25 de Mayo, runs 8 blocks and intersects another, San Martin, itself 7 blocks in length. There are three shorter pedestrian malls in this area, close to Plaza San Martin, and the busiest, Obispo Trejo, covers five blocks. Not often do you find so many traffic free walkways in the absolute center of a big city, and it all adds to the attraction of the place.
One of many pedestrian walkways in Cordoba
But for aficionados of the vida nocturna, there is one outstanding neighborhood that rivals any belt of bars and nightclubs anywhere, including Austin and Medellin. This is the barrio of Guemes, four blocks south of Patio Olmos, where several clocks are teeming with beer bars, taverns, micro breweries, cafes, nightclubs, and live music venues. There must be 50 different establishments in this zone, many massive with double and triple levels and giant outdoor patios. A dedicated night tripper could spend the best part of a week here and not spend time in the same place twice.
Lots of live music in Guemes
It’s also the home of a small, humble sandwich shop which became a go to favorite immediately. Marfer, on Laprida, at the edge of the night zone, serves terrific sandwiches with the crust cut off(migas) at a price that’s hard to believe. Once I found it, after hearing some good reviews, I returned to try another and even bought one to go for the train ride. 60 Argentine pesos, less than 3 dollars, is a bargain for what they offer, and they’re open from 8 am until almost midnight. Their only negative is being closed on Sunday and Monday, but for 5 days a week they can’t be beat.
Marfer sandwich Delicious and economical as hell
Of all the attributes Cordoba boasts, certainly one is the quantity of great looking women, of all age groups. I had heard mention of this before, jabbering with friends who had traveled to the area, and popular belief places only Rosario above Cordoba, in this category. But after spending time in the second city, I can absolutely state that’s it’s reputation as a hotbed of beauties is 100% accurate. I don’t know Rosario yet, but of it’s in the same class as Cordoba that is a very strong endorsement.
Yes, there’s heaps to like about the city, as it is large enough to offer anything without crossing the line into urban stress lab conditions. With lots of open space, organized and orderly, the primary bummer would only seem to be the heat that engulfs the region for much of the year. I had heard about it, and thus planned my trip to arrive at the end of April, hopefully past the big heat of the summer. Nevertheless, it was plenty warm, with temps reaching the mid 30’s which is in the 90’s on the North American Fahrenheit range. But I grew up and spent plenty of time in Arizona, so I knew that there are ways to deal with hot weather, and here it is likely the same. But probably best to plan any trip outside of December through March, just the same.
Tower in front of Sarmiento Park Cordoba
Finally, the hostel I stayed at in Cordoba was one of the finest I’ve ever had the pleasure of flopping in. Hostel Terraza, in the heart of the downtown at the intersection of Tucuman and Dean Funes, is one I would recommend enthusiastically. In the hospitality business, it’s the people that make the difference, and every member of the staff was super friendly, helpful, and eager to inform at all times. The building has a superb rooftop patio with a barbecue grill, and makes for a fine place to enjoy a beer and watch the sunset. The building is on two rather busy streets, so there is some traffic noise, but the convenience of the location made up for that in my opinion. Bunk beds are cheap, 4 to a room, and bathrooms and the entire interior are kept clean as can be. 8 blocks from the killer nightlife sector, and less than that from almost everything else, the Terraza is a worthy place to base out of.
Cordoba is a gem of a city that merits a few nights to enjoy and appreciate. I heard lots of positive reviews for small towns and places to see a little ways out of town, such as La Falda and Villa Carlos Paz, but in my limited interval there I couldn’t make it. Next time around, and there will surely be one, just not by train.
This article has nothing to do with the legendary railroad, the Patagonia Express, which runs in the southern province of Chubut, or the train of the clouds, a tourist line operating out of Salta. This is an account, first hand of course, about the passenger trains operating out of Retiro station in Buenos Aires that rolls to Tucuman and Cordoba in the north.
I was curious about these lines because I had heard that the new administration in Argentina was robustly rebuilding and restoring train lines throughout the north of the country. That may well be true, there is work being done, but ask a local about it and he’ll laugh. Progress is leisurely, to say the least. Never the less, there are a lot of signs claiming that the train is coming back to say, Jujuy, and clearly there is work being done.
So, after futilely trying to purchase tickets on line at the official website for passenger sales, I blindly got to the station one Thursday morning to buy a ticket to get first to Tucuman. This leg would help me get to Salta and further into the Humahuaca Quebrada, north of Jujuy, and close to the border with Bolivia.
I was informed that the tickets to Tucuman were sold out, so I went to Plan B, to try to at least take this train to Rosario, where I would improvise and hop a long distance bus if need be. I was able to make this purchase for 370 Argentine pesos, which was about US$18, a relative bargain for a pullman seat, which has no adjacent seat, the only upgrade from first class, which is slightly cheaper. But if you prefer to have nobody sitting, or sleeping next to you, it’s worth the extra scratch. I boarded the fairly new coach and settled into my seat, # 37. Our departure was slow and steady, rolling out of the giant station yards and rusted hulks, taking a northern vector through the greater metropolis of BA.
It took close to an hour and a half to escape the sprawl and slums of the city, with lots of squalor and garbage visible from my slow rolling window. The average speed at take off never exceeded 25 mph, which would explain the 30 hour scheduled time to complete a journey of 700 miles, incredibly, 4 hours more than when first completed in 1896. Apparently, the continued deterioration of the tracks, and inadequate maintenance all this time, is the reason for the crawl. At many places along the way there are places where workers are busy doing something, and hopefully getting the iron horse back up to speed is the goal.
The terrain opened up and became rural when we finally got out of the BA suburbs, with lots of horses and dogs everywhere. The dwellings were predominantly concrete blocks or reddish bricks, with lots of rebar sticking out. My fellow travelers were all locals, in all age classes but all economizers like myself. As night fell, we were steadily passing through agricultural country, fields of who knows what, tractors and wide open spaces. Our arrival into Rosario was tedious, like a glacier, and this city appeared to be very spread out with no obvious center. At 8:15 our crawl ended at Rosario Norte, where I assumed I would get off, grab my stuff, and head for the bus station which was not far away. However, as I passed through the station lobby I decided to inquire from the lady at the ticket window if the train continuing on to Tucuman was indeed sold out. She informed me that there actually were seats available, but her computer was not working properly so couldn’t process the transaction. So she emerged from the office, escorted me outside, and asked one of the conductors to assist me and get me on the train. He helpfully complied, walked me back onto the train I had just departed, took me to a first class seat and told me to wait there, while he took my ID and processed my ticket.( As I write this now, the Trenes Argentina website is completely down, so that is a major problem with their operations which you might think would be easy enough to resolve. (Think again.)
So now I was back to my original plan, and after waiting around a few minutes, I got antsy and decided to go find the dude, who had told me that the dining car would be opening at 9pm. I found him on his way to get me, take my cash, and give me a ticket. The only problem was that I only had US dollars and a credit card, neither of which he could take, This temporary snafu was resolved when an affable local, overhearing our conversation, offered to exchange my dollars for pesos, no problem. After a quick calculation of the current rate, he gave me 2040 Argentine pesos for my C note, and I in turn gave 400 of those to the conductor. I celebrated solving this snag with a ham and cheese sandwich, about the only item still available on the menu, along with a sprite for $80. Damned reasonable on a train to nowhere, and I wolfed it down back at my first class seat with no neighbors. There were lots of empty seats here, another indictment of the thoroughly dysfunctional train website.
Settling back into my seat, and wisely getting my down sleeping bag out for a pillow and comforter combo, I contorted myself into every angle to get some sleep. The train seats do not recline much, and the massive metal armrest between seats is immovable and a pain in the ass. Nevertheless I did manage to doze off into spells of tormented sleep, punctuated by bursts of racket, ranging from crying kids, to hacking coughs, scattered ringtones and assorted metallic creaks. The rhythm of the train would soon rock me back into a trance, from which I awoke every half hour or so. I watched a lot of barren landscape roll by, and several abandoned looking settlements, ghostlike reminding me of a Twilight Zone episode. Some, like Ceres, had a dilapidated train station, now almost in ruins, from when the old train used to stop there.
Waking up to early light at 7, I was staring out the window when another tiny burg, Pinto, passed by. Here the houses were made of adobe, much more basic than the south in this dry desert. Lots of mesquite trees, cactus, wire fences and horses and dogs. The only other critters I saw were birds, one of which built jumbo branch nests on top of the old power line poles, some of which were close to washing machine size, similar to the ospreys in Baja California. One after another, but I never did see which fowl was doing all the work.
My train mates were a jovial bunch, many traveling with families, and the bathrooms were kept clean as could be expected. The traffic on the nearby road put our pace to shame, and even some of the birds were leaving us in the dust. The big plus was the hypnotic rhythm of the tracks, canceling out many other more irritating sounds, like the branches rubbing against the exterior of the coach. At Colonia, another one horse town, I hopped off to grab a couple of 10 peso empanadas, nothing fancy but hot and adequate. The train actually performs a maneuver of sorts after leaving Rosario, where by we are now facing backwards, leaving the sensation that we’re heading back to big BA.
Actually, we’re continuing north, the land is flat as a pancake with no hills visible in either direction. The nearby traffic is almost all produce trucks, all covered so I can’t tell what they’re hauling, but not much else besides the odd bus or motorcycle. The desert here is quite lush, prickly stuff, similar to parts of Arizona or Mexico, and a machete would be essential to get through the tangle. Goats seem to have replaced cattle as the primary livestock, probably a better beast for this absolute briar patch of cactus and stickies that would be a problem for most living creatures. A few narrow trails, but very forbidding country.
The sky was solid overcast al day but no rain or big wind. I was getting antsy towards the end of the line, timing our progress against the km markers I would see, but I quit when I realized how slow we were going. Kind of like watching food commercials when you’re hungry. I had a free reservation in Tucuman at a place called La Gurda, where I was looking forward to a hot shower, decent meal, and a cold beer.
The advertised 30 hour ride actually took 31, with an excruciatingly slow arrival in Tucuman that was more like a reentry to earth. This was an ancient looking terminal, with heaps of old cars and locomotives rusting away. There was a huge welcoming mob here awaiting their arrivals, and I unloaded, and staggered through the crowd and out the front door. I got approximate directions to my place, and set off for the 5 block walk to find it. As it turned out, nobody knew of the place, it was semi hidden but directly across the street from a busy police substation. I had a $US 21 dollar private room with shared bathroom and breakfast included. The only negative was the smoking area in a courtyard about 15 feet from my door, so I had to get the group to pipe down twice later that night so I could get some z’s. And that was with earplugs, but it worked out.
After a week spent in Salta, Tilcara, and Calilegua, I arrived via night bus from Salta to Cordoba. It’s a grand city that I will expound upon soon, but this piece is all about the train rides. Despite a gruesome 31 hours on the way from Buenos Aires to Tucuman, I was determined to take my medicine and finish what I started with the 19 hour return to Retiro station. Thus, as soon as I arrived at Cordoba’s bus station I walked directly across the street to the train terminal and bought my ticket for 3 days later, just to make sure I got on……very convenient and $600 for the pullman back, US$29. When I boarded that train, Sunday at midday, I was fighting an exotic cold, and had already bought snacks and water for the trip.
The passengers today were an older bunch, likely returning to the big city after visiting family over the weekend. We pulled out of the station right on time, and again our takeoff could be measured with an hourglass and not a stopwatch. Of course this very poky departure provides plenty of time to study the neighborhoods passed through and examine the city scene with a leisurely, steady eye. The afternoon passed by and I was grateful to have a good book to read. The scape became solid fields and plains for hours, sunset came and went, and back out came my sleeping bag to hunker down with as night fell. The coach was not very full, so as I was looking around for a more comfortable sleeping arrangement, I found a set of unoccupied first class seats with a pair facing each other across a fixed table. I was able to stretch out from one seat beneath the table to get my feet on the facing seat, which enabled me to extend almost flat. This was an improvement on all other configurations so far, and I was able to catch some solid z’s. I awoke as we were entering greater Buenos Aires, and checked out the hordes of commuters heading to work on an early monday morning. We arrived on time at 7:30, I grabbed a cup and croissant in the station, ambled downstairs and boarded the line C subway and lurched across town to Constitucion station. Here I got out on the street, brazil I believe, and walked 13 blocks to Colonia Express, where I waited 3 hours for my boat. When I finally arrived at Tres Cruces bus station in Montevideo, my passage from Cordoba had taken 29 hours total. I’m glad that I did it, but there will likely be no repeat of this mission.
This is a place that is somewhat difficult to get to, and thus doesn’t attract hordes of visitors like other national parks in Argentina. There lies much of the appeal, as it feels like you have the place to yourself, usually a welcome sensation. it’s located 130 km north of San Salvador de Jujuy, with the closest town Libertador General San Martin 8k from the park entrance. There is a smaller town called Calilegua a couple of kilometers closer, but it’s very limited in terms of tourist services and not very useful.
Calilegua doesn’t get much more crowded than this
Public transportation to the park is provided by a bus that leaves San Martin each morning at 8:30, and returns from the entrance gate at 6:30. There are also taxis available for hire, and the standard rate one way is 200 pesos, about $9. The ranger station at the park gate provides maps and practical information, while the visitor center across the road features remarkable metal sculptures of some of the parks wild residents, such as the redoubtable Jaguar.
The Plush Crested Jays are numerous in Calilegua
There is a very well maintained network of trails that extends into the park from the station, each color coded and signed. I covered most of four different ones in an afternoon, and would have needed just another day to traverse most of the others. There is a clean, orderly campground with water and fire pits which would make an easy position to explore the park in a leisurely manner. A tent is essential, as well as insect repellant, as the mosquitoes are many. The vegetation is thick and very similar to the dry rain forest of Costa Rica, but without the monkeys. The bird population is stunning, and really the prime attraction for many. I spotted several beauties, including several species I’d never seen before. One, the Pijui Canela, or Cinnamon Spinetail, shined through the greenery like an electric orange lantern. The Irraca Comun, or Plush Crested Jay, is numerous, not shy, and striking, similar to a Magpie. I spotted many types of hummingbirds, fleetingly of course, and heard dozens of unfamiliar calls and whistles. A serious birder could spend unlimited time in this forest and not be disappointed.
The Interpretive Trail close to the Calilegua entrance
I was looking for resident Jaguars, and any kind of mammal, and saw none, but I would venture to say that these would only be encountered at night. Camping would facilitate this, as would spending a few days rambling all the trails, especially early and late.
Calilegua has good camping and day use faciliites
Several locals told me that the other side of the park, called Alto Calilegua, was more remote, higher, and open than this side, and wilder to boot. There is a very small settlement called San Francisco here, and a couple of places to stay, and this seems to be the superior portal from which to discover the parks marvels. The wanderer who is reasonably self reliant, and not tied to any rigid schedule, will find Calilegua worth any effort to reach. The only mechanical noise around is the sound of vehicles winding around the curvy Route 83, the only road in the park, bringing very sporadic traffic from San Francisco, 18 km away. Utilizing the daily shuttle bus permits access to the interior of the park without having to rely on a rental car or commercial transportation. Proper footwear, bug juice, binoculars and a camera will enable wanderers to make the most of their likely limited time here. A tent and proper cooking gear would be the icing on the cake.
If you’re going off trail here, bring your machete
This dusty town is situated in the acclaimed multicolored valley that runs from north of the city of San Salvador de Jujuy towards the Bolivian border. Sitting between the 7 colored hills of Purmamarca to the south and the equally vivid hills of Humahuaca 42 kilometers to the north, it’s a transportation hub serving this 100 mile long valley, and provides a plethora of accommodation options for visitors.
Tilcara lies at an altitude of 2400 meters, sandwiched by stark desert mountains on either side. The population of 10000 is employed primarily by the tourist industry, and most live in adobe houses that cover the level areas near the highway. It’s a picturesque village with most traveler services available and is an ideal base for exploring the region.
The points of interest include the rebuilt ancient ruins of Pucara, where the original inhabitants lived until displaced by the Inca’s in the 1500’s.This settlement is located on a hill above the Rio Grande River immediately south of Tilcara and reached with an easy walk. The local indigenous community, Ayllu Mama Qolla, operates the site, along with a very impressive botanical garden full of local flora.The rock ruins are extensive, covering much of the hill which features hundreds of huge, wooly cactus which are shaggier cousins to the Saguaros of Arizona. An hour or two can easily be spent wandering the area, enjoying the views and taking pictures.
The ruins at Pucara
The other notable attraction is 6 kilometers up the Huasamayo River, which runs into the Rio Grande from the east. The Garganta del Diablo(the Devil’s Throat), is a narrow chasm which was formed by an ancient earthquake. It now includes a hydroelectric plant that produces energy to the Pucara village but is an impressive geographical spectacle. A well maintained trail drops into the gulch from the entrance dwelling, with metal handrails to lend some comfort to folks prone to vertigo. A short walk further up the riverbed leads to a beautiful 10 meter waterfall surrounded by lush desert and some very lovely vegetation.
Like you might find at the bottom of the Grand Canyon
I was fortunate enough to start my hike in the morning when the sun was still low enough that the slopes of the canyon offered some shade, but by mid day, that relief was gone, and late comers going up while I was descending were all sweating profusely, with many inquiring, ‘How much further’? I calculated most of these folks would give up before making it to the falls. But there’s plenty of water to splash on your face, and each one of those might be good for a quarter mile.
Where there’s water, there’s green
Tilcara is a total dog town, with lots of hounds with a human to look after them, and even more doing it on their own in the streets. They all seem to behave pretty well, and I saw no fights or even major disagreements. People have a benevolent attitude towards most, and leave water and food out for the hungry. They are everywhere, sleeping in a dirt pile in the shade, wandering around in small packs like fired up pre teens, and quietly patrolling any outdoor patio where they might find some discarded food.
Siesta time for a couple of the Tilcara locals
The town has an abundance of lodging options, from bare bones hostels to sleek stone and glass B & B’s. So many, in fact, that I have a difficult time believing that it ever fills up. The dining choices are likewise bountiful, elegant to way earthy, with many featuring local delicacies like Llama burgers and Humitas, a type of corn tamale. There are loads of free range chickens around, and cheap, filling street food , especially empanadas. My 180 peso hostel, the very chill Andino, served a decent breakfast with coffee included, and that seems to be the rule in Argentina’s north.
A ditch at the bottom of the Garganta del Diablo, Tilcara
All this makes Tilcara an excellent base to explore the area from, with the fabled dead end village of Iruya two hours to the north, and the colorful trails around Purmamarca. less than 20 km to the south. Two days might not be enough, and maybe 3 too many, depending on how relaxed you want to be, but I know some who could spend a very leisurely week.