Salta – Argentina, and a Visit That Left Me Wanting More

When I started planning this journey through central South America, Argentina was not really part of the plan. This time, the journey was supposed to cover a few places I missed on my previous trip to Brazil, followed by Paraguay and Bolivia. Brazil was already familiar territory. Paraguay had now been explored.

The original plan was to continue directly to Bolivia. The journeys to Bolivia were incredibly long, and there didn’t seem to be many obvious places worth stopping. At least not places that fit naturally into the journey I had planned.

Northern Argentina suddenly seemed much more interesting. So instead of heading straight to Bolivia, I took a daytime bus from Asunción to Resistencia, where I spent the night before catching an overnight bus to Salta the next day. Argentina had entered the itinerary almost by accident. And I was beginning to suspect that this might not be the last time.

A short stop in Resistencia

There probably isn’t much to say about Resistencia. At least not based on my very short visit. The city seemed to stretch endlessly across an incredibly flat landscape. Around my hotel, the houses were spread so far apart that it barely felt like being in a city at all. The following day, however, I walked towards the centre. Partly because I wanted to see what Resistencia had to offer. And partly because I needed to find some Argentine cash.

The centre felt much more urban.

Resistencia is known as the City of Sculptures, and it has plenty of sculptures. Apparently, the city has hundreds scattered throughout its streets and public spaces. So there was no shortage of things to photograph.

I had also hoped to visit El Fogón de los Arrieros, a small cultural centre that sounded particularly interesting. According to the opening hours, it should have been open. Unfortunately, the doors were firmly closed. However, there were plenty of sculptures outside.

One sculpture that caught my attention in Resistencia was one I had seen before.

Soon after, I was back on the road. Or rather, on another bus. The next morning, I arrived in Salta. And it immediately felt like I had arrived somewhere rather different.

Arriving in Salta

Walking towards the centre of Salta early in the morning, I quickly realised that Argentina had changed the atmosphere of the journey. After Paraguay, with its mixture of neglected historic buildings, modern neighbourhoods and rather understated cities, Salta felt much more connected to its colonial past. The historic centre is filled with colonial buildings, churches and elegant squares.

It is also a popular tourist destination, which probably explains why much of the historic centre felt much better maintained. Salta was not pretending to be a forgotten city waiting to be discovered.

Excellent timing

Sometimes you plan a journey carefully. Sometimes you simply get lucky. The days I was in Salta happened to coincide with the celebrations leading up to Argentina’s National Day. And suddenly there was something happening everywhere.

Groups representing Indigenous traditions marched through the streets in long, colourful parades. Enormous masks, feathers, bright costumes, drums, and dancing filled the street.

It was one of those situations where you walk around with your camera and constantly wonder where to look next. The costumes were extraordinary. The music was impossible to ignore. I had not planned any of this. I had simply arrived at the right time. That is one reason I still prefer travelling independently.

Dancing, drums and a lot of stamping

The celebrations were not limited to the large parades. Other parts of the city also hosted performances by local dance groups. One of them was Tradición Salteña, performing the traditional Argentine dance known as malambo. There was clapping. There was rhythm. And there was an extraordinary amount of stamping.

Not bad for a place that had originally been added to the itinerary because the bus connections towards Bolivia were inconvenient.

A day trip towards the Andes

Salta itself was a pleasant surprise. But I also wanted to see what was waiting outside the city. So I joined a day trip to Cachi, travelling through the spectacular landscapes of north-western Argentina. This was also where I got my first proper glimpse of the Andes. At one point, we were travelling at more than 3,500 metres above sea level.

Eventually, we reached Cachi. The town is small and beautifully preserved, with whitewashed buildings, narrow cobbled streets, and a quiet atmosphere that makes you want to wander without a particular destination. It is very much a colonial town. But unlike many places where the word colonial has become a marketing strategy, Cachi genuinely felt as though it had retained much of its character.

The day was long. By the time we started travelling back to Salta, I was starting to feel I had spent enough hours sitting on a bus for one day. But then something completely different happened.

Watching Norway play football in Argentina

I am not particularly interested in football. I should probably make that clear. But even I noticed that Norway was doing remarkably well in the World Cup. And as we were driving back towards Salta, the decisive match between Norway and England was about to begin. So there I was. Sitting on a bus somewhere in northern Argentina. Watching Norway play football on my phone. That Norway eventually lost is, of course, another story.

Argentina had only just begun

After the slightly quiet start in Resistencia, Salta turned out to be one of the real surprises of this part of the journey. I came to Argentina mainly because the alternative bus routes to Bolivia were too long. And yet, after a few days surrounded by colonial architecture, colourful celebrations, mountains and spectacular landscapes, I found myself wanting considerably more.

This was only a small corner of a very large country. And I had barely scratched the surface. I am fairly certain I’ll return one day. Not for a few days. But to travel properly through the country. Argentina, I suspect, deserves considerably more time.

For now, however, the journey continued. The next stop was a border town. And beyond that border waited Bolivia.