The road trip to Cachi
The road winds up, hairpinning and folding back on itself again and again. The surface is no longer Salta’s smooth tarmac, but a ragged dust road adorned with potholes and rocks. Next to your vehicle the land drops away vertiginously, the surrounding mountains studded with grand cacti and grazing llama. That anyone drives to the remote village of Cachi feels improbable, that buses make the trip daily seems like death-wish lunacy. It is, however, about as spectacular as road trips get, rising to a heady 3,500 metres. And at the top, you reach the altiplano. The high plateau suddenly rolls out before you, hills of purple and red nearby while dust devils spin on the horizon, and the cars and jeeps that have laboured uphill suddenly steam over the high plains like something of out of Mad Max or Wacky Racers. Cachi is the goal, and its sweet little adobe-lined streets and verdant square are always a welcome sight.