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The last part of Argentina left for us to explore was the highlands of the Andes in the northwestern corner of the country. We wanted to make a large loop along the dirt roads of the mountain range, reaching some remote and unique places… The dirt road journey began from the small town of San Antonio de los Cobres. I reduced the tire pressure of the van from 55 psi (3.8 bar) to 45 (3.1 bar), so that the vehicle wouldn’t rattle as much on the endless corrugated dirt roads of Argentina. My motorcycle, on the other hand, had no such need.

The famous Tren a las Nubes, the so-called “Train to the Clouds,” once connected the highlands of Argentina to the ports of Chile via this bridge at an altitude of 4,220 meters (13,845 ft)!

A few kilometers outside the town, we visited a gorge to admire the famous Tren a las Nubes, the so-called “Train to the Clouds,” which crosses from one side of the gorge to the other at an altitude of 4,220 meters (13,845 ft)! This train once linked the highlands of Argentina with the ports of Chile. After crossing some salt flats, we entered the Desierto del Diablo, the Devil’s Desert. When I first saw this otherworldly landscape with its reddish soil and bizarre formations, I immediately understood why it was named that way! We spent the night in this lunar landscape, sleeping in the van with the diesel heater running all night, as at such an altitude, the temperature dropped to -6^o Celsius (21^o F).

We spent the night in the Desierto del Diablo, in this lunar landscape, where the temperature at night dropped to -6^o Celsius (21^o F).

The next morning, it wasn’t until eleven o’clock that the water pipes inside the van thawed! In the highlands of the Andes, we had gotten used to emptying the pipes every night before sleeping to prevent them from bursting. I dressed warmly because, even during the day, the cold on the motorcycle was unbearable… This was the first time in my travels that I hadn’t installed heated grips on my motorcycle, so I was forced to periodically take one hand off the handlebars and place it on the motorbike’s gearbox to warm it up a little.

Tolar Grande makes the Wild West seem cosmopolitan!

We passed through Tolar Grande, a village that made the Wild West seem cosmopolitan! In these remote areas, most villages exist to serve the numerous mines in the region. Asking around, we found a grocery store next to the abandoned railway tracks that sold fuel in jerry cans. We bought twenty liters of diesel to ensure we wouldn’t run out, as both the van’s fuel consumption at this altitude and the necessary diesel heater’s usage were increased.

The Ojos de Mar (Eyes of the Sea) are small pools in the middle of the mountainous desert, with crystal-clear, turquoise water!

The surrounding landscape was stunning! “Ojos de Mar” means “Eyes of the Sea”. The locals gave this name to some small pools in the middle of the mountainous desert, filled with crystal-clear, turquoise water! A few kilometers further, we came across the majestic Cono de Arita, a natural hill with a perfect cone shape, rising from the Salar de Arizaro salt flats. Meanwhile, the wind had picked up again, and in some places, it lifted the sand, which I could hear hitting my helmet. Fortunately, I usually had the wind at my back. Otherwise, the sand would get inside the helmet, and the only solution to keep my eyes open while riding would be to wear my enduro goggles, which I always carry for such situations.

Cono de Arita is a natural hill with a perfect cone shape in the Salar de Arizaro salt flats.

In the following days, we used the town of Antofagasta de la Sierra as our base. Angeliki stayed there in the van to rest from the hardships of the highlands, while I wanted to attempt a route that I knew would be challenging even for my motorcycle… At Campo Las Tobas, I stumbled upon some ancient petroglyphs on the ground! Further ahead, I entered the Real Grande Gorge, riding between massive rocks. The passage was quite narrow and incredibly impressive!

At Campo Las Tobas, I stumbled upon some ancient petroglyphs on the ground!

I gradually ascended at an altitude of 5,000 meters (16,404 ft), reaching the outskirts of the Galán Volcano. Along the way, I encountered several frozen rivers. At the first one, where the ice was thin and would collapse, I found a narrow spot and crossed with some momentum so that the wheels wouldn’t have time to sink into the void. Further on, I crossed two more, much wider, frozen rivers, but there the ice held firm. I passed slowly, maintaining steady throttle control, with my feet on the ground, ready to react if the bike started to slip.

The only living creatures I encountered in these remote places were a few vicuñas and a fearless fox (zorro gris).

The final slope before reaching Laguna Diamante was quite steep, and I knew that at this altitude, if the terrain was loose, my motorcycle wouldn’t make it up and I’d have to push. From afar, I could see two climbs. One was terrifyingly steep. I attempted the other one, and luckily, the ground was firm, so I made it up! However, I then had to descend an equally steep slope to finally enter the world’s largest volcanic crater! The descent was shockingly steep, with enormous potholes where my entire front wheel would sink! I tried to descend slowly in first gear with the brake applied, but in one of the massive holes I had no choice but to drop into, the front wheel twisted, and I face-planted down the slope!

At an altitude of 5,000 meters (16,404 ft), the route to the Galán Volcano may have been difficult, but it remains etched in my memory!

That was my first crash on dirt during the “mad about Americas” journey, and it was quite painful… The motorcycle fell downhill, and even though it wasn’t loaded, lifting it was extremely difficult. The slope was so steep that fuel was dripping—not from the carburetor overflow, but from the tank cap, as it was lower than the carburetor! Unfortunately, the crash broke my left mirror and its corresponding handguard, which was already half-damaged. At an altitude of 5,000 meters (16,404 ft), it took me three attempts, gasping for breath, before I could finally lift my motorcycle! When I finally laid eyes on Laguna Diamante on the horizon, it seemed to sparkle like a diamond in the sunlight! The next lake I approached, the frozen and pure white Laguna Grande, looked just as shining.

At last, I saw Laguna Diamante within the world’s largest volcanic crater and managed to ride my motorcycle there!

In the afternoon, when I finally reached the main road, the wind was of gale-force! I wondered whether it was wise to visit Campo de Piedra Pómez or if I should forget about it… It was only 25 km (15 miles) away, but I had read that some people took two hours to get there in their 4x4s due to deep sand. I thought there was no way my motorcycle would take that long for such a short distance. So, I decided to go for it… I settled into a nice, fast-flowing rhythm, and without rushing, I arrived in 40 minutes! I thoroughly enjoyed the ride, and the lunar landscape I encountered was the perfect way to conclude a tough but incredible day! Campo de Piedra Pómez resembles a sea of massive, white pumice stones stretching as far as the eye can see!

Campo de Piedra Pómez resembles a sea of massive, white pumice stones stretching as far as the eye can see!

After passing a few more volcanoes that looked like blackened, conical hills, I finally returned to our base just before sunset. It was time to celebrate with Angeliki, so we dined at a simple eatery where we ended up chatting for hours with the friendly owner. The only dish they had cooked that day was a local soup called cazuela de frangollo, a thick stew made with ground white corn, potatoes, carrots, pumpkin, cilantro, and llama meat. It was so delicious, that I had two servings!

It’s incredible how close I got to the hardened lava of the countless volcanoes in the highlands of the Andes!

Satisfied and fulfilled, it was finally time to take the road back and leave Argentina behind. We followed a different, yet still dirt-road route, passing by the abandoned gold mine of Incahuasi (The House of the Incas) and the Salar Del Hombre Muerto (Salt Flats of the Dead Man), which were apparently named after the many mummified human remains found there! When we reached the border at Paso de Jama, at an altitude of 4,200 meters (13,780 ft), the wind was so strong that truck crossings had been prohibited! We decided to sleep there at the pass and finally enter Chile the next day. Having traveled for more than five months in Argentina, I already felt a sense of nostalgia leaving behind such a diverse and breathtaking country, while Angeliki felt relieved that we would be descending—if only for a very short while—from the high plateaus of the Andes, which had been wearing her down for months.

Even the rivers freeze in the highlands of the Andes!

This is the eighth and last episode of our documentary about our adventures in Argentina (with English subtitles):

mad nomad: Since there were requests for Angeliki to write a little something about our adventures, she penned the following article. Enjoy!

After driving our vehicles up to an elevation of 4,850 metres (15,912 ft), we crossed back into Argentina via the Paso de Jama, high in the Andes, to explore the northern part of the country, which we had saved for last. We had now entered the province of Jujuy, a region strikingly different from the rest of Argentina we had visited. Our first stop was the picturesque village of Susques, perched at 3,600 metres (11,811 ft) above sea level, built with traditional materials and techniques. The village square featured a beautiful church, and the landscapes and settlements here bore a strong resemblance to those of neighbouring Chile, which we had explored earlier.

This is the church of the Andean village of Susques, at 3,600 metres (11,811 ft) above sea level.

On the way to Purmamarca, we passed through the vast Salinas Grandes salt flats, where the salt in some areas exceeds half a metre (1.6 ft) in thickness! These were the largest salt flats we had ever seen. The surrounding area was utterly desolate, with no trace of human presence for hundreds of kilometres. However, there were plenty of llamas and alpacas, much to my delight! After a long drive, cacti began to appear, bringing joy to Cactakis and me, as it meant we had left the extreme altitudes behind… for a while at least!

The expansive Salinas Grandes salt flats feature salt deposits up to half a metre (1.6 ft) deep!

The landscapes near Purmamarca, our next destination, were magical! The surrounding mountains were multicolored, and the vegetation had started to thicken. As we arrived in Purmamarca, our eyes were drawn to the Cerro de los Siete Colores (Hill of Seven Colours), which loomed over the town. We would encounter many such mountains later in our journey. Purmamarca, though quite touristy, is a stunning town in an incredible location, surrounded by colorful hills and mountains. The town’s colours harmonise beautifully with nature, and its architecture is a lovely blend of indigenous and colonial influences. The most fascinating attraction in Purmamarca is undoubtedly the large open-air craft market, filled with colourful textiles, countless items woven from llama and alpaca wool, herbs, wood carvings, food, and more! It was the perfect opportunity to buy a traditional indigenous textile.

This is the mountain town of Purmamarca, with the Hill of Seven Colours towering above it.

Next, we headed to the Humahuaca Gorge. Before reaching the town of Humahuaca, we made a stop in Tilcara, where I made a significant discovery… While wandering around to find the starting point of a hike through the gorge, I spotted a sign that read: “Caravana de Llamas”! Naturally, I had to learn more… I discovered a small farm with llamas, alpacas, and hybrids of the two, where visitors could meet, feed, and take walks with them! My excitement skyrocketed, and I immediately arranged to visit the next day for a meet-and-greet and a walk with the llamas! One llama in particular caught my attention—Misky, who was exceptionally well-fed and fluffy! Tilcara also has a historic fortress, built in the 11^th century AD, predating the Inca era. It seemed interesting, but my mind was elsewhere…

Exploring the waterfalls in the Garganta del Diablo (Devil’s Throat) Gorge!

The next day, I woke up early, brimming with excitement, and arrived at the farm just before our scheduled time. The guide first told us about the llamas, their origins, their migratory history, their significance to pre-Columbian cultures, and their characteristics and personalities. For the walk, he asked us to choose the llama we wanted to accompany us. Naturally, I chose Misky, whom I had singled out the day before! The guide told me his name means “tasty” in the local Quechua language. He’s a mix of llama and alpaca and is very well-behaved! I fell head over heels for Misky and still think about him daily! During the walk, he wasn’t the most ideal companion, as he was constantly distracted by food, so I had to keep pulling him away from what he was munching on to keep moving. It was a magical experience—I petted him constantly, and I think he liked me a little too, even though I probably annoyed him! When we returned to the farm, the guide gave us corn to feed the llamas, and it turned into a grand feast! Since then, I always carry corn with me to feed the llamas we encounter on our journey.

In Tilcara, I met the adorable Misky, a llama with whom I hiked through the surrounding mountains!

Before leaving Tilcara and Misky behind, we stopped by the town’s market for supplies. It was probably the first purely indigenous food market we had visited so far. It had all kinds of foodstuff, many of which we had never seen before! Our next stop was the charming little village of Uquía, where we admired the beautiful traditional church with its clay roof and cactus wood beams.

This is the traditional church of Uquía, with its clay roof and cactus wood beams.

Humahuaca welcomed us with vibrant colours and lively energy! As the most important and largest town in the namesake gorge, it has a fair amount of tourism, but a relaxed atmosphere. We wandered through its narrow streets, visited the Monument of Independence, sampled local specialties, and listened to live traditional music. We used Humahuaca as a base to explore other parts of the gorge, such as the remote village of Iruya and the Serranía de Hornocal, the multicoloured mountain with fourteen hues! Where we camped, just outside Humahuaca, one afternoon a car approached us carrying four plain-clothed police officers. They were looking for information about a missing sheep! It seems even in Argentina, sheep are in high demand!

The picturesque town of Humahuaca enchanted us with its cobblestone streets and lively square.

It was time to escape the Andean highlands… for a while at least. To reach the lowlands, we chose a 200-kilometre (124 miles) route along narrow, steep dirt roads, reaching elevations of up to 4,700 metres (15,420 ft)! I drove most of the route in first gear, and to this day, it remains one of the most challenging drives of my life! Elias, on the other hand, thoroughly enjoyed the same route on his motorcycle. As we reached the tropics, we were relentlessly attacked by tiny insects called jejenes. They literally drank our blood! We were covered in bites and swollen everywhere! Even though we wore long clothing, they bit us wherever our skin was exposed, even on our necks! The worst part is that in these areas, these insects can carry dengue fever, but thankfully, we didn’t catch it.

Elias embarked on a two-day kayaking trip down his first subtropical river, the Río Lavayén!

Over the next two days, Elias kayaked down his first subtropical river, the Río Lavayén. Once he returned, we set off for Salta, the capital of the namesake province. The city center is particularly picturesque, with exceptional colonial architecture and a strong cultural and gastronomic identity. Salta is famous for its peñas, entertainment venues with live traditional music, dancing, and food. We spent two days in the city and then departed for Cafayate.

Salta is an exceptionally picturesque city, with stunning colonial architecture and a vibrant cultural and gastronomic identity.

The drive from Salta to Cafayate was one of the most magical we had experienced on our journey so far! Surreal red rock formations dominated the landscape. The region is volcanic and also home to many vineyards. We visited one of them, where we enjoyed a wine and cheese tasting. In Cafayate, we witnessed the celebrations honouring the national hero General Martín Miguel de Güemes, who fought for Argentina’s independence, particularly in the Northwest. The festivities included decorated horses, traditional dances, chacarera music, parades, speeches, and a very joyful atmosphere. This marked the end of our exploration of the lowlands, and we set off once again for… where else? The Andean highlands!

Our favorite local music, the chacarera, is considered the music of the rural provinces of Northern Argentina.

This is the seventh episode of our documentary about our adventures in Argentina (with English subtitles):

mad nomad: Since there were requests for Angeliki to write a little something about our adventures, she penned the following article. Enjoy!

We began our journey in the Atacama Desert with a visit to the European Southern Observatory (ESO) on Mount Paranal. This observatory is funded by European contributions, something that particularly annoyed a German during our tour, who kept complaining about his taxes! We were impressed by the Very Large Telescope (VLT), which consists of four individual telescopes. We learned about its operation, entered the facilities, and even visited the unique building housing the scientists, engineers, and other staff working at the observatory. The building itself is fascinating, both architecturally and otherwise. Ιt was even used as a filming location for the James Bond movie “Quantum of Solace”! On the opposite hill, Cerro Amazones, an Extremely Large Telescope (ELT) is under construction and is expected to be completed by 2029.

This is the Very Large Telescope of the European Southern Observatory on Mount Paranal, located in a part of the Atacama Desert with ideal conditions for space observation.

After leaving the observatory, we stopped at the famous sculpture “The Hand of the Desert,” which symbolises human rights that were severely violated during Pinochet’s dictatorship. The Atacama Desert was used as a secret burial site for thousands of murdered and missing dissidents during that era, and even today, relatives of the disappeared continue searching for the remains of their loved ones in the vast desert.

The famous “Hand of the Desert” symbolises human rights that were severely violated during Pinochet’s dictatorship.

Our next stop was the coastal city of Antofagasta, known for the Huanchaca smelter, where minerals from nearby mines were processed. It operated only for a decade, but employed around 10% of the city’s population! Antofagasta was also an important railway hub connected to La Paz, Bolivia. The now-abandoned railway facilities are picturesque and the tracks still reach the port. We were thrilled to encounter sea lions again that were lounging on a wooden pier and even strolling along the waterfront promenade! We then visited the seaside city of Iquique, where Elias once again flew on his paraglider and landed right next to the city’s skyscrapers!

Camping under the starry sky of the Atacama Desert!

Diving back into the depths of the Atacama Desert, we stopped to visit the La Palma settlement, which once housed workers from the Humberstone and Santa Laura mines and refineries, where sodium nitrate was extracted. This substance was highly significant in the past, as it was used in fertilizers and explosives and was Chile’s main export product! Everything changed in 1960, however, when Germans found a way to produce synthetic nitrates. The La Palma settlement now operates as an open-air museum and is extremely well-preserved. There was a school, theater, cinema, swimming pool, tennis courts, a large market, and so much more, giving us the impression that even in the desert, the residents’ lives didn’t lack much compared to those of people living in urban centers. However, not everything was rosy, as there were also incidents of bloody suppression of workers’ uprisings, something that was unfortunately common at the time.

In 1872, when these areas still belonged to Peru, sodium nitrate, one of the most important products of that era, was mined in Humberstone.

Next on our exploration were the highlands of the Andes, known as the altiplano. Elias, a fan of high altitudes, was thrilled, while I was worried about the van’s engine and the rugged dirt roads we had to cross. We passed through the Isluga and Lauca National Parks. The landscapes were breathtakingly beautiful and surreal, but the driving was extremely challenging, and the roads weren’t even proper roads, causing the van’s rear to fall into a ravine! Thankfully, our van is equipped with four-wheel drive and low gears! Along this route, we saw our first llamas and alpacas that I instantly fell in love with! We also came across abandoned villages with beautiful churches. The sense of abandonment was evident throughout the region, but considering the harsh living conditions that was understandable. At the end of the route, we reached a mountain lake with hot springs, steam, clay, and stunning views of the surrounding snow-capped mountains and volcanoes, which definitely made up for the challenging journey!

I fell in love at first sight with llamas and alpacas!

We spent the next few days wandering around the Andean highlands, much to Elias’ delight! He enjoyed several motorcycle rides, reaching altitudes above 5,000 metres (16,404 ft) and creating memories that will last a lifetime! I was more conservative, in order to spare the van. However, despite my cautious approach, we had a mishap in the village of Putre, the main settlement of the indigenous Aymara people. There, we were mistakenly given gasoline instead of diesel, and the engine stopped working! Luckily, Elias acted quickly, and Don Rufos was saved without damage.

On his motorcycle, Elias ascended to an altitude of 5,000 metres (16,404 ft) in the Suriplaza area, near the Chile-Bolivia-Peru tri-border!

Having explored a significant part of the Andean highlands, we turned westward toward the Pacific Ocean, heading for Arica, Chile’s northernmost city. We passed by the Lluta Valley, which resembled an oasis. We stopped just before Arica to visit a museum with Chinchorro mummies dating back from 5,000 BC; two thousand years older than the oldest Egyptian mummies that have been discovered! Amazingly, these mummies were so well-preserved that many still had hair! Arica is a major port in the region, serving Bolivia as well, as it lost access to the sea during the War of the Pacific. The city’s cathedral and the former customs building were both designed by the renowned Eiffel.

The Chinchorro mummies date back to 5000 BC, two thousand years older than the oldest Egyptian mummies that have been discovered!

Our next stop was the village of Pisagua, also located on the Pacific coast, in the middle of the desert and far from everything else. Pisagua was once a significant port and flourished in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, as a hub for the exportation of sodium nitrate. After this industry collapsed, Pisagua became infamous during Pinochet’s dictatorship (1973–1990), as a concentration camp for dissidents. We visited the cemetery outside the village, where many victims of the regime were secretly buried. The place was eerie… Cemeteries in the sand are not uncommon in Chile, and we saw several during our trip. For a Greek, however, it is a fairly strange sight.

In Pisagua, many victims of Pinochet’s dictatorship (1973–1990) were secretly buried.

After our brief tour of Northern Chile’s coast, we headed inland again, our final destination being the tourist town of San Pedro de Atacama. Along the way, we stopped at the Chuquicamata mine near Calama, one of the largest open-pit copper mines in the world! Thanks to this and other mines, which have been nationalised since 1971, Chile is the world’s largest copper producer. We then returned to the Andean highlands, saw geysers, and swam in hot rivers! We spent a few more freezing nights in the highlands before heading to San Pedro de Atacama.

How could I resist a hot river at 4,300 metres (14,108 ft) in the volcanic regions of the Andean highlands?

The descent to San Pedro de Atacama was a relief for me, as I had grown tired of the relentless cold and strong winds of the highlands. At first glance, the town seemed unattractive and somewhat miserable. However, as soon as we reached the centre, everything changed! San Pedro de Atacama is extremely picturesque, with beautiful colors and low buildings that blend perfectly with the surrounding desert. The town’s centre looks like a postcard! It also serves as a base for desert tours, stargazing, and excursions to neighbouring Bolivia. It has many tourists and a somewhat hippie vibe. The last time we saw such a charming town was in Valparaíso. We stayed in San Pedro for two days before heading back into the desert to admire its stunning landscapes and spend a night at the famous Magic Bus, an abandoned bus in the middle of nowhere! This marked the end of our exploration of Chile, as we prepared to cross the border into Argentina, in order to explore the country’s northwest, a piece that was missing from our journey so far.

The center of San Pedro de Atacama is incredibly picturesque, with beautiful colors and low buildings that blend perfectly with the surrounding desert!

This is the fourth episode of our documentary about our adventures in Chile (with English subtitles):