I had to get up at six and when I got down to breakfast, it consisted of crackers and cornflakes. Hmmm.

The guy at reception asked my name, and when I told him it was Nathalie, he at once started humming this cursed song by Julio Iglesias, which everyone seems to know around here, from Cuba to Chile to Argentina, and which is called 'Nathalie'. I've never actually heard it, not being a big Julio-fan...

José Maria, the guide, showed up in a van at 6.50 and we picked up Arturo and Elena, a couple from Buenos Aires, and Luisa, a lady originally from Italy who came to Buenos Aires after WWII. All three of them in their sixties.

We set off and the first 88 km were less interesting, although we did pass the lovely town of La Merced, with lots of squares and trees in bloom. We stopped for tea and coffee at km 88, and I had an exprimido de pomelo (fresh grapefruit juice) which was divine.

After that, it became clear why everything in the northern provinces is pink. The Quebrada of Cafayate is a mountain range of red stone, eaten away by water and wind, forming rock formations which tend to tickle people's imagination. We also saw loads of huge cardones (cactus), which were in bloom as it has rained a lot more than normal (usually they don't bloom until January).

We stopped at the (pink) Rio de las Conchas at the village of Alemania and then at the Garganta del Diablo (a play on words, Garganta means both throat and gorge). Arturo was hesitant to go in, so Elena teased '¿Tiene miedo?', are you scared? But the devil was out for the day.

The funny rock formations followed: Los Tres Cruces, El Monumento de la Suegra (the monument of the mother in law), las ventanas (the windows), los Castillos and El Sapo (the toad). José Maria showed us a tree with a green bark, which apparently does not need leaves because it uses its bark for photosynthesis. But it's hard to convey how beautiful it really was, the red of the mountains contrasted with the green of the valley, it almost seemed unreal.

We ended up at Cafayate and went into Vasija Secreta, the oldest bodega in the area. A young man showed us around the small museum (from wooden barrels from France to polyester barrels, how we have progressed...) and then, of course, we got to taste some wine! The white was very fresh and fruity, I didn't like the red much, but perhaps eleven is too early for vino tinto...

At Cafayate, we stopped at an artesania shop, which also had the other specialty of the region, dried fruit. The pasas (raisins) and higos (figs) were unlike any I have ever tasted before, very, very nice. After lunch, which was unremarkable, it started pouring down, and Luisa joked to José Maria that the agency had promised her it never rained in Salta province, so they must have misbooked the weather...

The three porteñnos were talking about the economic situation at lunch, which must have been quite a rollercoaster. At present, Argentinians vacation in their own country as it's too expensive to go abroad, but, as Luisa said, '¿Qué falta en Argentina?' as you have everything in this country, from mountains, glaciers, snow, to wineries, history and so much more. Spending time with three elderly porteños is very good for my Spanish.

We passed a building which seemed oddly out of place, and José Maria explained it was a bank, made of prefab, and was delivered to the wrong address! The one they really wanted ended up in El Calafate, Patagonia, and El Cafayate, where it never snows, now has a bank with a snowproof rooftop...

On the way back, we passed a house with more artesania, and more importantly, a photogenic llama. Arturo kept saying: '¿Cómo se llama el llama?' which he found hilarious.

At km 88, Luisa and I shared a piece of Strudel and after that it was nodding heads on the bus, apart from the odd emergency stop. José Maria fancied himself a bit of a racetrack driver... No wonder so many people still believe in God in this country.