The Cuyo

Today was a driving day - a long driving day. We started by heading back through Mendoza, and then turned North keeping the Andes as our constant companion, some 25km to the West. Cuyo means desert land, and this described the landscape perfectly- barren and featureless. The temperature began to climb, and a heat haze hung over the long straight road so that oncoming cars appeared to be floating towards us. At one point there appeared to our right an enormous lake as far as the eye could

see. It was, of course, a mirage. Despite the dryness of the area, this is also the main wine growing area of Argentina, making use of melt waters from the high Andes brought here by long irrigation channels. The crops were being harvested and we passed many a lorry piled high with grapes making their way to one of the cooperatives where they would queue for their turn to unload.

We turned West, then Northwest, striking out across the Sierra de Alto Pencoso and still the temperature climbed, topping out at 31 degrees. Over the next 200km the landscape became cruel and inhospitable and settlements were few and far between. The houses were made of adobe (a mud and clay brick mix) with bamboo roofs. It was a poor area. We saw farmers managing their small herds of goats, or driving a horse and cart to collect firewood. There were road signs warning of cattle straying

on to the road, but the only cattle we saw were recently dead carcasses being picked over by big black vultures. From a distance we could see a number of the large birds circling ahead, and as we approached we saw they were feasting on two dead donkeys, one on either side of the road. Not much survives here.

We arrived in the small town of St Agustin de Valle Fertil, our base for the night, and were warmly welcomed at the Hotel Rustico by our host, Mario.