Quebrada Arriba

After Tilcara, we continued up the Quebrada de Humuaca to the tiny town of Iruya, which we reached via a stomach churning three hour bus ride. As we bought our bus tickets, we were warned that because it had rained the night before, the roads were particularly bad, and the bus would not in fact be going all the way to Iruya - instead we would be dropped off a couple kilometers from town and would need to complete the journey on foot.

The ride, mostly over dirt roads, occasionally through full fledged rivers, was indeed rough, but our bus driver performed impressively. The ride was through beautiful high Andean plateau, climbing to the 4,000 meter Abra Condor pass. I'm not sure whether it was because of the extraordinary views or merely the lack of oxygen at that altitude, but our entire bus became giddy as we went over the pass, snapping photos and jumping from one side of the bus to the other in an effort to get the best views.

About two kilometers short of Iruya, we encountered a river running across the road. Despite our bus drivers best attempts to drive through the torrential water, we were unable to cross. Instead, he got out of the bus and began throwing rocks in the river, in an attempt to construct a temporary bridge. After waiting a few minutes, all the tourists piled out the bus and began to assist him, gleefully throwing rocks and splashing each other, while the locals remained on the bus, hoping that our efforts would pay off. After fifteen minutes of construction effort, the driver sucessfully negotiated the river, and managed to deliver us all the way to Iruya.

In Iruya, upon disembarking from the bus we were met by an enterprising youngster, who promised to get us a room for 25 pesos. We followed her up Iruya's steepest hill, where she took us from house to house, until we finally found a family with a suitable room for us.

We spent two days in Iruya, mostly watching the donkeys and goats that have the run of the town. After a fruitless attempt at acquiring some horses for a day's riding (the owner of the hosteria sent us to check at a kiosk, where we were informed that the only person who might have horses was the hosteria owner) and exploring the nearby canyons and riverbeds on foot (somewhat taxing giving the altitude). We left Iruya early on the morning of the third day, waiting for the bus in the dark at five am with a crowd of locals and one friendly donkey. We arrived in Humuahaca dead tired, but in time for the bus to La Quiaca, our final stop in Argentina before heading into Bolivia. -EMW