“Bajo la luz y se llevo todo.” The light dimmed and everything was swept away … when a storm washed out the road to Tilcara. The intense reds and ochre are complimented by the greens, make the land sing. Yet as I celebrate these colours, I am told this is a harsh, challenging place to live.
We climbed up from Purmamarca: Purma atop – marca is settlement. Mesas here are eroded into gothic cathedral-like shapes. They are bare of animals, we are told. Ines is sitting quietly in the back. At the summit, I ask how she is doing. OK, she smiles but she has a touch of siroche. Selfishly I feel fine.
Our next stop was in Volcan – not a volcano but the name of a storm that brings sand and stones down from the mountains, altering landscapes by burying roads and houses. (Glad we were there on a calm, sunny day). No wonder pueblos are built high: closer to God and wind damage in Purmamarca Canyon.
Returning to Argentina is always special; travels with my school friend Ines, even more so. I had never been to Salta before this trip. The landscape, so filled with colour, amazed me. I sketched something every day!
For this trip I had a small handmade book from my friend JA. It is seven inches by five, a double page: 7x 9.5″. Small notes evoke huge memories. I can hear the birds, water bubbling past, and smell herbs wafting in the evening air.