La quebrada de Cafayate
It’s not very deep – most places the water barely covers my feet, at the deepest it doesn’t even reach my knees – but we can still feel the latent forces of the wide river as we cross it. No wonder the rivers here can destroy roads during rainy season, no wonder there’s a sign near the road to be aware and take care near the water. But this is not rainy season; the river is just a mere shadow of its powerful self and we can cross it.
There’s something liberating about throwing off your shoes, ripping off your socks and step into a muddy river, to feel the soft wet mud under your bare soles, the water caressing your bare feet . Combine that with a lazy shallow river with water reflecting the rays of the sun. Combine that with a massive red block with stunning red cliffs. Combine that with steep purplish canyons. Freedom! I feel free – and high, high on nature!
Ice cream, wine ice cream, that’s what lured me to Cafayate. Anything ice cream and you have my attention. I love ice cream, you might have got that by now. I didn’t know about the Quebrada, I didn’t know about the colors, I didn’t know about the canyons, I didn’t know about the beauty – it took me all by surprise, but what a surprise. Think red, think purple, think yellow, add a bit of green, put it all on some hills, some mountains, make layers of it, make stripes, make patterns. Add some canyons, add some odd trees in the openings of a canyon, add cacti and spread it all over a huge area. Put in some weird formations that people can make out as something familiar – a train, a frog, a queens head – after a couple of glasses of wine too many, and there you have it: Quebrada the Cafayate.