The two twin-cab jeeps are parked outside the little airport of Salta, Argentina. As we arrive, Talkki and Edgar, our drivers and guides, greet us. They do not understand why we have 12 suitcases of various sizes for our group size . Of course, Jezzabel has the largest and heaviest cases. We head off to see the local city. I’m focusing on the historical and cultural areas, whilst some are always looking at shopping.

Salta was founded in 1582. Despite what most people who visit the area think, the name derives from Sagta, which means “beautiful”, and not from the many salt pans in the region. I would not call it beautiful as we drive into the city, but as we swing into the Plaza 9 de Julio my view completely changes. On the north of the main square, I look for the opening door to welcome me to the Cathedral Basilica de Salta, which is an impressive building from the outside, dated 1882. Sadly, it is siesta time and I must come back later if I want to see the inside. In the same square, I visit a museum dedicated to the culture and people who lived in high-altitude places in the region. On display is one of three mummified frozen children’s bodies in perfect condition. Found in 1999, they date back to the 1400s. The children were very well dressed and in good health when they died . They were given alcohol and drugs prior to dying , they were well preserved in the frozen temperatures. There are numerous reasons they were sacrificed .These  three , from noble families would work in the next world for later generations prosperity. 

The museum is like a large house and I am very impressed with the amount of English explanations.

A five-minute walk from Plaza is the Iglesia San Bernardo. Next to the church, I pay a few pesos and a security man walks me around, perhaps because I look a bit shifty or shabby in my walking gear. He and I end up having one of those “you go first” – “no, you go first” sessions at the many doors he unlocks to show me the religious relics inside. One room is full of photos of key figures in the church’s history, then another of statues. On the upper level is a wooden corridor, and I realise we are above the church. I can hear an organ being played, but the only person I can see is the uniformed guard. Then I spot Jezebel on a floor below. Strange, I thought – must be no shops here. But I was wrong, there was. I couldn’t work out how to get out. Finally, I make it down and, lo and behold, Jezebel has found the church shop. Basically, this is a town where once you have covered five blocks, you have about done the town. Back in the 1550s, the Spanish saw the area as a major food and livestock supply for their regional needs.

We have little time, but the team wants to “train it to the Clouds”. It looks like an enjoyable trip, dating back to 1948, but we would need a full day. In 1948 the train and track were inaugurated, but in 1970 a tourist train journey was set up. It runs only one day a week and is a 280-kilometre round trip, taking over 14 hours given the wild terrain. We were there on the wrong day.

We decided to follow a similar route to the train and criss-cross the tracks on some winding roads in our two twin-cab jeeps. At some point later we are 4600  meters up, looking at an amazing viaduct. Our backs long turned on Salta, we are  high into the Andes, part of our four-day tour. We soon learn how experienced and knowledgeable our drivers are, given their running commentary and driving skills , specially at high altitude. To cope with the altitude, we are told to chew green leaves supplied by the drivers. This turns out to be coca leaves that in another form of cocaine .The scenic colour changes from the varying light on the rock formations, this  make us all snap away on our cameras. Snow-capped mountains and high-altitude lakes add to the scene. Local villages are bleak and basic, with no frills. We stay overnight in one and wake up feeling as if we haven’t slept, the altitude is playing games. We leave the area and continue our tour with a dramatic descent through the colourful terrain.