A-C-B: Tilcara and the Hill of Seven Colors

The morning of October 25th began with cool temperatures and a breakfast buffet that included dulce de leche cake. After some birdwatching around the hotel grounds Carlos drove us north, past the town of Tilcara,

to look for birds attracted to a pond he knew. 

Looking back to Tilcara, not at the pond.

On arrival we discovered that a ditch now sliced into the reservoir, lowering its water level. Nonetheless we saw two black-crowned night herons spooked into flight by a pair of dogs that plunged in; the water barely reached the canine bellies.

Leaving the pond was a challenge. A backhoe had parked in the road between us and our car, and began scooping up rich, black, wet dirt and vegetation, dumping it into a truck not visible in this photo.

How do we get around it?

Carlos was reluctant to tread through the vegetation on the left to bypass the backhoe until Joan led the way. Then we drove to Tilcara and wound through the narrow streets to the parking area for the Pucará de Tilcara, a pre-Inca fortification.

It's a popular spot.

We began our visit with the adjacent botanical garden, the Jardin Botanico de Altura, which specializes in cactus. We were there mostly for the birds; Carlos was looking for the giant hummingbird in particular.

Unfortunately, the birds hid very well from something as clumsy as an auto-focus camera. Binoculars worked better. Here's an example of my troublesome focus:

The cactus flowers were much more cooperative.

From the garden we could see the hillside covered with excavated ruins of the Omaguaca people, who settled here in the 12th Century (click on the image to enlarge).

One technique for discovering ancient habitations is to look for clusters of cactus, which were a food staple. Groves of cactus would spring up from discarded seeds and fragments.

The path towards the foot of the hill also held side attractions such as this llama.

In this photo Carlos and Joan are examining one of the courtyards.

The interior of one of the restored structures. Note that the beams are made of, yes, cactus. Click on the image to enlarge, and the holes where the spines grew will appear.

This brown-backed mockingbird put in a gracious (photographable) appearance. It's almost endemic to Bolivia, but does appear in NW Argentina, favoring the dry valleys between 2500 and 3500 meters altitude: where we were.

The summit of the hill is capped by a 1935 monument.

The truncated pyramid is a tribute to two archaeologists, not to the native peoples.

It does attract attention.

Then it was time to drive into Tilcara itself. We visited a couple of museums around the square, including the Ernesto Soto Avendaño. After some dithering the three of us decided to have lunch at the Nazareno, which was very good. A neighborhood dog in persisted in checking out the various tables, hoping for a handout; if it stayed too long, the owner would shoo the dog out. Then it would sneak back.

After lunch we came across this large mural, an an artwork and a map of town.

Next to the mural we drank a sample of api from a street vendor. This is a drink typical of the region based on blue cornmeal, sugar, and spices (often cinnamon and cloves). It was pleasant, like mulled wine sans alcohol.

On our way back to the hotel we detoured around Purmamarca to take in the "Hill of Seven Colors," or Cerro de los Siete Colores. Carlos suggested driving instead of walking, because we would not have had time to see much on foot, it being already 4pm.

This photo is of Carlos' car, which underwent a lot of wear-and-tear, especially in the second half of our journey, but never failed us.

We found both jagged and pillow-shaped formations.

Pillow shapes in dead center.

Looking back the contrasts became more stunning.

The road ahead, with a walking path bearing off to the right.

Zooming in on the trail, there are tiny figures walking the loop (click on the image to enlarge).

A side canyon created a close-up presentation of the color contrasts.

After completing the loop we returned to our hotel and another excellent dinner. A good night's rest was called for: the next day would be a long drive to San Pedro de Atacama, in Chile, including several mountain passes and a maximum altitude of about 4800 meters / 15,700 feet.

A-C-B: On to Purmamarca

On October 24th Carlos, Joan, and I traveled through several climatic zones. The long drive north began by crossing the dam outside Coronel Moldes, where I declined the chance to participate in bungee jumping from the edge of the dam. For some reason I neglected my photo-taking duties today until much later in the drive; my apologies.

We drove around the western edge of the city of Salta, a city of just over half a million people, and continued north on the old tourist road between Salta and Jujuy, a city of about 350,000, rather than the new highway.  In the vicinity of La Caldera, a curious name because there is no volcano in the vicinity, Carlos pulled over for a birding stop. La Caldera is at the bottom of this map:

The trees, still wet from yesterday's rain, would let loose an occasional drop tinted yellow from sap. Two policemen drove by and chatted briefly. Eventually we left -- I have little to report in the birdwatching department -- and the road turned away from the valley and into the heights.

The excursion through the mountains was slow but scenic. The route was well forested due to the moist air from the southeast. Being an old road, the track was narrow; signs warned that the width was no more than 4 meters / 13 feet. Some switchbacks were marked as only 3 meters wide. Fortunately trucks no longer take the picturesque way, just cars and motorcycles. We wiggled and wound, and the road reminded me of the lateral road in Bhutan, except that the pavement was in better shape here. We made a second birding stop, hoping to spot a cuckoo, but no luck today. At the crest of the range was the border between Salta province and Carlos' home province, Jujuy.

As we dropped into the next valley we decided it was lunchtime. At the Dique La Cienaga (see map above) we pulled into a lakeside club, the Club De Pescadores (Fishermen's Club), where I had trout and Joan tried the pacu, a white-fleshed fresh-water fish described by Theodore Roosevelt as "delicious."

From there we continued on to Jujuy city, where we picked up more gasoline and, off the road north of town, made our third and final bird stop of the day.

Again, no photos, but a few colorful toco toucans did fly by, the largest toucan species.

We bore north following the valley of the Rio Grande, gaining altitude. The river's name is due to the width of the riverbed, not the water.

The channel may shift during the wet season.

A closer look ahead.

The terrain slowly lost vegetation as we ascended; the moist southeastern air drops its water as it rises, eventually drying out, and no moisture arrives from the west over the Andes mountains. The average annual precipitation at Purnamarca, today's destination, is 14.3 inches / 364 mm. By comparison, Columbus, Ohio receives on average 38.1 inches / 968 mm, although in 2018 it was 55.2 inches / 1403 mm, a new record.

Along the way we could see the beginnings of the effort to restore the narrow-gauge railway between Jujuy and the Bolivian border. Originally the lifeline of the valley, the railway faded as the automobile took over; demoted to a tourist attraction, the last run was in 1993. The reconstruction began in 2016 but much work needs to be done to accomplish the needed rerouting in spots, and installing rails and signals. Here's a map of the rail network at its maximum in the 1950s.

The green circle is the area of interest. Click on the image to enlarge.

The town of Purmamarca is just off the main north/south highway. Our hotel, La Comarca de Purmamarca, was closer to the far side of town than Carlos expected. We shot by it the first time but located it after turning around.

Our home for the next two nights.