It’s been a while since I wrote an update. Well, I am fine. I led a good life in Cafayate, Cachi and Salta.
Getting up late. Either walking around in the village or exploring the area by bike.
In the early afternoon I had a beer and was reading in one of the restaurants around the main square. After that I had a siesta and in the evening often ate steak and wine. And I was lazy working on my blog too.
06.03. – 09.03. + 10.03 / 11.03.
After 6 days I leave Cafayate and drive on the Ruta 40 north to Cachi.
Cachi is located at about 2,600 m above sea level. It is a small village of about 5,000 inhabitants. The core of the village is colonial. I stayed three nights. The daily routine does not differ very much from that in Cafayate.
In Cachi each evening a strong wind comes up. Near the village I climb up a small hill. The rock is furrowed and the stones are sharp, flip flops are certainly not the appropriate footwear.
From the hill you get a good view in both directions of the vast plane. The landscape is painted in gorgeous colors by the evening sun.
I curled myself into a wind protected corner and watched the sunset for a while. Sometimes I venture a look at the other side. Small stones are thrown in my face like needles. On the other side I can see large dust clouds being blown across the river.
My departure from Argentina is approaching. Two more days in Salta to do a few organizational matters.
12.03.
I drive a few kilometers to Tilcara to the Bolivian border, to make sure that the trip to Bolivia on the next day is not too far. Here I spend the last hours and squander the last pesos. In the hostel there is an asado – BBQ argentinean style. That means various kinds of meat and sausage. The roles are clear, while the men take care of the meat, the women prepare the salad and other stuff too .. that seems to be the same all over the world.
13.03.
The border is just 200 km away. I enjoy the ride. Argentina gives a sunny farewell. In the border town of La Quiaca there is no fuel available. I intended to spend the last pesos I kept, for that. No problem, I have enough fuel to reach my destination.
On the other side of the road there is an old red bus, which was converted into a small restaurant. Before there was a lot of smoke from a BBQ. I entered the bus and asked how much a meal costs. The answer is 50 pesos. I said that I’m leaving Argentina and have only 30 pesos left. The lady asks the boss. Yes, I can have a smaller meat dish.
And just before I left Argentina, I enjoyed once again the hospitality of the people. At the next table is a family sitting. The man listened to my conversation and offered me a glass of cola.
The border formalities are done quickly and before I disappear into the streets of the Bolivian border town of Villazon, I turn around a last time, throw a glance back and say goodbye to this beautiful country and the wonderful people.
Thank you for reading, Jürgen.