The Seven Colors of Pumamarca

The hills above Pumamarca display their colors, above. Below, from top to bottom, our van waits in a Jujuy street for a much needed repair, below Pumamarca an old vendor sits in the shade next to the road at a choice tourist photo spot, the quintessential Jujuy photo spot is a frequented area in Pumamarca, and the Quebrada de Humahuaca winds away into the northwestern Andes toward San Salvador de Jujuy and Salta. - AC

I´m not sure if it was the fat old man sleeping next to me, overflowing and leaning against my shoulder, or the fact that the van was pulling to a stop next to a mechanic shop to have a flat tire changed that woke me up, but either way, I was happy to step out onto my own two feet and stretch my legs.

The folks at the tour agency the day before had told us there would be no more than four people in the truck, in addition to the driver and his assistant - whose job it seemed was basically no more than filling the driver´s mate with hot water through the curvy suicidal sections of mountain road. In reality, there were nine of us crammed into the van, in addition to the driver and his assistant.

Our excursion left Salta at 7:30 in the morning and was bound for Humahuaca, a small oasis in the northern Jujuy province. We took the Quebrada de Humahuaca, which is basically an ancient travel route along a grand ravine through the northwestern Argentine Andes. It was a trip, we hoped, that would bring us closer to the more indegenous side of Argentina.

In reality, Humahuaca is not far from the Bolivian border, it is rural, the people are simple and the landscape is rugged.

The first half of our nearly 14 hour excusion was pleasant. Everything we saw was new, despite traveling with a car load of old retired Argentines from Buenos Aires, even the cramped van was not umpleasant. Afterall, when you travel, all expectations go out the window.

Before long, we were pulling into Pumamarca, the home of Siete Colores, an unbelievable series of mountains rising up toward the ever-blue sky. From red, orange, purple, yellow, two shades of green, tan and brown the colors of rock detail the ages of weather and wear. At the base of the hills in a tiny little valley sits the small, simple town of Pumamarca, which obviously subsists almost entirely on the non-stop tour buses that pull in and unload passangers to take "the quitessential Jujuy photo."

Later we would disembark our little van a few more times. Once inside Humahuaca for an authentic but overpriced lunch of empanadas and locro. After that outisde the pueblo of Tilcara at the nearly 10,000 foot site of reconstructed ruins, before being forced into the museum for an entrance fee. And lastly again in San Salvador de Jujuy to take a "city tour," which was a walk through the provincial capitol building and the cathedral. After that it was a marathon ride in the van back to Salta.

As I slumped down on my suddenly feather-like bed in Salta, exhausted from sitting ackwardly all day long. My distaste for the fat old porteño that had been leaning on me for 12 hours, for the less than accurate tour agency description, for the possible under the table dealings of our guides and for the general contradiction between travelers who want to see the untouched wild places of the world and the tourist destinations they visit, I suddenly thought about my long day with a smile.

Sure, some of it had been less than desireable, but in reality, I had seen a piece of Argentina - and the world - that many people have not been to or even heard of. Of course, eveyone goes to the Bolivian salt flats, Machu Picchu and the Galápagos. But how many people have driven the Quebrada de Humahuaca? And of those, how many have taken the time to veer off the road and take in the seven colors of Pumamarca? So what if they´re all tourist traps in their own way? What amazing place isn´t?

- AC