Purmamarca was a nice town. There are only about 500 residents, but thousands of tourists. It is winter holiday here in Argentina, so there are families everywhere. Families who turn up at the campsite at midnight and stake their tent inches away from the bus. We haven’t figured it out just yet, but it seems that even when there is plenty of space, the next camper will come over and plop down only inches away.
We’ve also jumped another time zone (same as Greenland!) Our sleep schedules are a bit out of whack, but basically we’re in bed by 9. There are numerous things wrong with this, but the biggest problem is that we are in Argentina. People don’t eat dinner until at least 10pm, so even when we wait as late as we can to go out, we have trouble finding restaurants that are open. Most open at 9.
Purmamarca has the ‘Hills of 7 Colors’, which we both hiked and drove around to see. I don’t understand how you can have earth these colors, but it was great to try and photograph. Apparently, Red Beard was another attraction as well.
For some reason, Bode still has an interest in cemeteries. Not morbid (not yet) but an honest curiosity. So, he wanted to go see the cemetery. It was beautiful, but still a bit creepy.
So we go inside and we gravely read the stones. All those people, all those lives, where are they now? With loves and hates and passions just like mine. They were born and then they lived and then they died. – Morrissey