Headed north

An amazing day's outing, if a long one, to the Quebrada de Humahuaca, north of Salta, and very mountainous, and conspicuously more indigenous in its population (7.8%) than anywhere else I've been.  Above, a boy and his young llama; below, some stripey rock formations just before Purmamarca.

The entrance to Purmamarca (there are check points everywhere in this country);

the very lovely and simple church of Santa Rosa - founded in the C17th, though this building dates from the C18th;

street scene in Purmamarca.

And on to Huacalera: street art;

the town square;

a street ...

and after that, when we stopped in Humahuaca, I did the unthinkable, and left my cell phone in the van when we transferred to small cars to go to the summit where one can see the amazing rock formations of the Serranía del Hornocal.  I mean - how could I?? (though I suspect I could very well remember them better, as a result).  It was a long and rough ride up to 14,250 ish feet, with us chewing coca leaves against altitude sickness - I usually get a headache at 13,000 feet, and didn't, so I guess the worked.

Then back down to Humahuaca:

Then, driving back, a stunning visit (no photos allowed inside) to Uquia and its church: inside are one of the few complete series of Arquebusier Angels in the Andean colonial world (aka depictions of angels with guns, and in Spanish colonial uniform) - I've been fascinated by this genre ever since I saw such paintings in Denver Art Gallery.

This is one of the most meta photos I've ever taken: goats crossing the Tropic of Capricorn (that may not actually be true, since it shifts northwards by about 15 meters a year, due to changes in the sun's axis.  But hey, we got out of the van to see a marker for the T of C, and a huge sundial, so officially this is the line that delineates the boundary between the tropics and the southern temperate zone).

On the right, a California sweatshirt, on the young woman filling up her thermos that doubtless has mate leaves in it.  I realize why I'm so wary of mate: it's because the last time I had it was on an island on Lake Titikaka. and it - or rather, presumably, the water used to make it - gave me giardia, which was ... uncomfortable, for an age.

Overlooking Maimará - or rather, overlooking cemeteries outside Maimará - this gives a sense, in miniature, of the rock formations I can't show you: these are known as the Painter's Palette.

and then the clouds started to roll in - here, above a Saturday afternoon soccer game.

Today reminded me so much of the kind of travel I did thirty years plus ago, and it was brilliant - but, long.  And off again tomorrow!