The Cactus Trip Diaries

Greetings from a cold and dark Durrington,

Where the snow promised yesterday fell during the night (just a light dusting) and was gone by 9 a.m., but with another arctic blast promised for tomorrow!

Tuesday 25 October 2005: Cabra Corral to Tafi del Valle

Today’s itinerary promised ‘a beautiful trip in the heart of the Calchaquies Valleys, passing through Cerrillos, Alemannia and Quebrada del Rio Las Conchas, with magnificent landscapes.’

I managed to list 10 taxa photographed at S482: Cleistocactus baumannii, Echinopsis silvestrii, Gymnocalycium saglionis and G. schickendantzii, Opuntia anacantha, O. sulphurea, Parodia microsperma (syn. P. argerichana), Pfeiffera ianthothele, Trichocereus terscheckii and T. thelegonus – not bad for one stop! So where is S482? I tried to be a smart-ass and whenever there were road signs at a stop to indicate where we were, I’d take its picture. Only here I realise that the sign, translated into English, says ‘In 300 m – Diversion, difficult passage’. Oh well! I don’t remember this stop as well others, only that I seemed to have walked bent double to scrape under / through the branches of the low forest, and concerned about Guillermo’s warning to watch out for ticks that drop off the trees and try to bore into your skin – nice! Kind of distracts the attention away from the cacti!

The lichen and epiphytic plants growing on the rocks and trees suggested that this place received quite a bit of variable moisture. Many of the cacti looked in excellent condition, bursting with vigour, but alas, not with flowers (with the exception of a G. saglionis and the tiny flowers on the Pfeiffera).

S483 was unmistakable: El Anfiteatro – The Amphitheatre in the Quebrada del Rio Las Conchas – no cacti photographed, but wow, what rock formations! Here, each had been given a name by imaginative souls – going back in folklore and history? Or recent inventions from creative tourist guide writers? Who knows? Exotic names include La Garganta del Diablo, El Sapo, El Fraile, El Obelisco, Los Castillos etc. sounding all the more romantic to English (and Dutch) ears and might lose some of their magic on translation.

I checked Google for more information about this Quebrada and learned (for me) a new language: ‘geological English’ with terms such as ‘Neogene strata’ and ‘Strata of the Cretaceous-Tertiary Salta Group are exposed … were deposited in the Salta Rift Basin. The light-colored Yacoraite Limestone is the source rock and reservoir rock for the hydrocarbon resources found in the rift basin.’ I don’t honestly know what it means, but it sounds good when I look at my images. I’m sure that Rob, Ian and Cliff could add a could bit more to these geological phrases AND explain them

The other good sounds in El Anfiteatro were the guitarist and flute sounds by a couple of local musicians. Guillermo said that they had been there every time that he had visited this attraction – we’re guessing that there is a shift system. Woody had found the perfect place for his 14 mm wide angle lens, but found just one problem – how to capture this scenery without including any of the bus load of people.

By 12:30 we had arrived at S484 where we found another Parodia microsperma – ssp horrida (syn. P. dichroacantha). As I don’t know the genus Parodia very well, I have included the splitter names that are now considered to be synonymous with P. microsperma. Also here were Acanthocalycium thionanthum (in flower!) and Gymnocalyciums: G. saglionis and G. spegazzini. This was a very hostile environment (at least during the time that we were there) with a strong wind blowing hats around and the plants growing on a very crumbly rock – three steps up, two steps worth of sliding backwards. I made my way from one yellow A. thionanthum flower to the next, taking snaps of any other interesting cacti on the way. I must have looked a sight – looking like 6 months pregnant with my hat stuffed under my T shirt! There is no space for vanity on these trips!

Our friends had done their best to set up today’s picnic in the shelter of the bus, but I’m sure that I had quite a bit of sand with my cheese and cold meat baguettes.

We needed to make up more distance, so we were glad to stretch our legs after three and a half hours on the bus, at S485, here with Acanthocalycium ferrarii, Gymnocalycium spegazzini, Parodia microsperma (syn. var. cafayetensis), Tephrocactus weberi and Trichocereus pasacana. The majority of T. weberi we had seen were white spined, but the ones I photographed here had nice yellowish spination.

We stopped off at the nearby Pachamama museum at Amaiche del Valle, near the Hosteria Ruinas del Quilmes where we had stayed on 16 October. It was just a short stop to top up with some more nice souvenirs. And on, until the bus over heated and created an unscheduled stop (S486) where we took some more pictures of Maihueniopsis boliviana, Opuntia sp. and T. pasacana.

We feared that another unscheduled stop would be necessary as the bus struggled up hill. Had we all put on weight during the trip? On the contrary! The daily exercise and Clifftonnaires Disease had helped me and many others shed a few pound in the right places. But we had all acquired a range of souvenirs – some official, from the tourist shops and markets, some less formal, like the pretty rocks that would come on board at various stops and slide around our feet. I gather that may of these were evantually mailed to the USA – I dread to think of the cost – while some were left at locations thousands of km from their original collection location – so baffling geologists who follow in our tyremarks..

We made it to the last stop of the days, S487, and were amazed at the size of the Lobivia (Soehrensia) bruchii (considered to be Echinopsis, alongside Tricocerei etc in other classification systems). Again we found plants in bud but no flowers. Seeing these mature plants in nature made me question (again) the usefulness of placing so many diverse taxa in one genus. But then I had always regarded Lobivia as a genus to consist of much smaller plants than these. So had it all started to go ‘wrong’ earlier? I must read up the history of Echinopsis lumping. I hear rumours of a reverse in the lumping trend for Echinopsis – the pendulum usually swings between extremes
– let’s hope that it will come to rest at a point that mere mortals can appreciate and understand. I enjoyed seeing bruchii in habitat, irrespective of the genus name, and now realise that I’m unlikely to see the couple that I have in 2.5 inch pots reach this size in cultivation. The inevitable question ‘How old must these plants be?’ again remains unanswered.

Paul Shipsides and I enjoyed chasing a lizard around a rock, taking its pictures (and many images with just rock) before climbing back on the bus and the final miles to Hotel Tafi del Valle, where I managed to persuade Chris to see a doctor who rewarded him with the ‘large injection needle’ that motivated others to get moderately better, but which saw Chris greatly improved at breakfast the following day.

I apologise in advance if tomorrow’s episode should be delayed: I have to cover at work for a colleague enjoying a holiday and look forward to welcoming Cliff (now suffering from a good old English cold – not dissimilar to Clifftonnaires Disease) and Leo van der Hoeven, just back from his trip to Peru, for an exchange of tall stories over bottles of Argentinean Malbec and a few pints of Guinness.

Feeling envious?

I’m having trouble to imagine that exactly one month ago today we were at about 22 degrees south of the Equator, enjoying seeing the signs of spring, while today I’m at about 51 North, where a week of night frosts was followed by a couple of warmer but very foggy days that today were followed by a sharp wind from the north providing a polar blast that promises snow. Cars have been driving with their lights on for most of the day. What a contrast!!!

Monday 24 October 2005: La Quiaca to Cabra Corral

In previous Diaries I have commented on that sad feeling you experience on the morning that you realise that you’ve gone as far from the starting point of your trip as you are going to get and that today we’d start the journey back. We had taken 15 days to get here and as we were due back in Cordoba on Day 22, 30 October, we’d be doing some more intensive driving during the coming week. Today, we’d push from 22 deg S down to 25 deg S. and from 3,500 (11,500 ft) to about 1,000 m (3,283 ft).

S479 was really two stops in quick succession. The first was a last opportunity for some pictures of the Devil’s Spine as well as a wonderful traffic sign warning of llamas crossing the road – similar to the UK sign warning of deer crossing roads. The trouble with these herd animals is that if they find themselves on opposite sides of the road when they are frightened by an oncoming car, bus or lorry, their instinct is to get together into a group, even if that means crossing the path of the speeding vehicle. We had llama steaks for dinner, earlier in the trip and enjoyed the flavour, but I did not fancy taking the fur of bits of road kill and barbequing it over a fire of cactus wood. I hope that they recognise the signs and take extra care crossing the road – or was the sign meant for drivers?

The second part of S479 – the cactus bit – was a quick one and gave us Maihueniopsis boliviana (in flower), Opuntia sp. Oreocereus trollii (in flower) and Trichocereus pasacana or poco – again there were no buds or flowers to make the conclusive ID. By 11 a.m. we arrived at Tilcara to pick up Dick and Phyllis. Dick felt much better after their extra rest date at a more comfortable altitude.

Around 1 p.m. we arrived at an electricity substation (?) proclaiming to be Central Los Reyes no 1. So, is there a Top 10 of these stations? We took a hike up the Rio Reyes riverbed (S480) and immediately spotted some Echinopsis ancistrophora on the cliffs on the west bank. Some were in bud and flower, much higher up, with too much vegetation between us for a good picture with our tele lenses. It was easier to get some nice pictures of Parodia chrysacanthion and Rebutia fiebrigii (syn. R. jujuyana), growing in the cracks of the rocks and in mats of moss at just about eye level In one spot, I took an image where just now I counted 70 + Parodias, ranging in size from a 5 pence (UK) / dime (US) upwards. The parodias were either in bud or had just finished flowering, luck was not on our side in this respect. I bet that the images of these plants will still produce a few ‘Oohhs and Aahhs at future UK Branch meetings. The Trichocereus sp. had some large flowers appearing from the apex, but grew too high up the rocks for a closer look.

I spotted some of the mountain goats in our party (Guillermo and Mark spring to mind) some 30 m up the rock face, taking pictures of the Rebutia in flower. Did they have access to the Startrek ‘Beam-me-up-Scotty’ facility? I must have been feeling better than on previous occasions like this on the trip, because I parked the tripod with D70 at the base of the rocks and found my way up to the right height but still some meters away from the plant. As usual, the last few meters are the hardest, not so much the getting there – because you have your goal firmly in sight, but the way back. This is where my small Coolpix came into its own – Guillermo and Mark had lugged their SLR’s up the hill, but I was able to stand with my right foot on a 5 cm wide ledge, clinging on (no more sci-fi jokes please) with my right hand to another 5 cm ledge (but how stable was it?) while my left leg and arm (with Coolpix hopefully pointing straight at the plant in flower) were waving around in space. I felt pleased with my achievement as I feel that I have a reputation to keep up for participating in at least a few foolish stunts like this on each trip. Hopefully the images that some of the others made from the river bed will confirm this daring stunt, perhaps it was all in my mind. The three pictures I took show a nice Rebutia jujuyensis in flower in the moss, but there is no hint in any of the three images of the effort I was making to take them.

We made our way back to the bus, near a tourist attraction consisting of swimming pool and snack facility where Guillermo et all had set out today’s picnic.

Two hours later, the scenery had changed dramatically at S481 where we were back taking pictures of the subtropical rainforest scenery of trees bedecked with epiphytic plants including Pfeiffera ianthothele, Rhipsalis / Lepismium sp., orchids and bromeliads. Once again we arrived at a very comfortable hotel (Hosteria Cabra Corral) where another very nice meal was waiting after we had enjoyed a refreshing shower.

I was aware during the trip that I was making comparisons between this type of guided bus tour and the previous DIY trips. Not having to worry about accommodation and food each night was certainly a luxury, but then I think of nights around the Eulychnia fuelled fires at Botija …. I have come to the conclusion that both approaches have their pros and cons and that many of these come down to personal preference. The guided tours open the opportunity of seeing cacti in habitat to a much larger group of people and are the ideal way of getting to know a new bit of cactus country. I know from experience of how much time can be wasted looking for a particular plant without the benefit of a local guide. Even a precise GPS location is sometimes of limited help – was it taken at the place where the car / bus was stopped and from where it is then necessary to make a short walk (in which direction?) or was it actually taken from the spot where one of the plants in question was growing – in which case, where is the best spot to park the car – it is not always the nearest that is best.

Tomorrow we head to Tafi del Valle.

Refreshed after our rest day, we were ready to make our assault on La Quiaca. We had observed most of Guillermo’s tips of how to best prepare for high altitudes. We had at least moderated our alcohol intake (In case there is a suspicion that we are all alcoholics; not so, we just enjoy making up for our favourite plants’ lack of thirst).

If there had not been any cacti between Tilcara and La Quiaca, I would still score this section of the trip 10/10, as the scenery is outstanding. To the east of the road north, the hills that had created such an impression at Purmamarca, Maimara and Tilcara were still with us. I say hills, because their peaks were ‘only’ some 250 – 300 m (800 – 985 ft) above us, but we were already at 3,338 m (10,959 ft) when we stopped at S472 at Churquiagada. We were treated to Austrocylindropuntia shaferi, Echinopsis longispina (syn. Lobivia ferox) Maihueniopsis boliviana, a very densely spined Opuntia sp. and Oreocereus trollii. M. boliviana obliged with several clumps with several flowers, or rather, flowers that had closed for the night and that at 9 in the morning were waiting to open for another day or more. The E. longispina was also in flower – nicer than the standard Echinopsis sp. white flower, as these plants all had red buds, while the outer sepaloids of the open flower remained red. All the cacti listed were shy and insisted on hiding below and in the middle of the usual range of very spiny shrubs. It’s quite interesting to see Oreocereus trollii competing on ‘spinyness’ with Acacia (I assume) scrub.

Twenty-five minutes later we stopped near Azul Pampa (S473), where, alongside the cacti listed for S472 we found Parodia maassii and Trichocereus atacamensis. At least, we think it was T. pasacana and not T. poco that is supposed to join in with the telegraph poles around here. From memory, T. poco has red flowers, mainly from the area immediately at the stem apex, while T. pasacana has fairly wishy-washy white flowers that can appear anywhere along the top section of the stem. As there was no evidence of buds, flowers or their remains, I was unable to provide a reliable ID. P. maassii was interesting, I have had some in my collection in the past and found them fairly boring plants, until they rotted. I could never respond to the challenge to grow them well – I don’t know why, some plants just ‘speak to you’ while others leave me cold. This is dangerous territory: ‘plants that speak to you’ but I think that most of you will understand what I mean. For the others: the men in the white coats are coming to collect me later! Back to the Parodias – Brian Bates compares them to ‘weeds’ in Bolivia, they’re everywhere. The plants here had wonderful long curly spines and if I was to come plants that looked like this in a European nursery and could be sure that it was not an ex-habitat plant, then I would certainly buy one. Shame there were no flowers. Most of us took a picture of a group of O. trollii, some twelve stems, most with flowers. It was this plant that had been spotted from the bus and was the reason for our stop.

S474 was a scenic rather than cactus stop. I believe that Guillermo used the term Devil’s Backbone (Espinazo del Diablo) for this continuing rock formation. As I write these Diary notes I like to do searches on anything that I like to know more about and find time to look up. Google came up with some interesting missed for Devil’s Backbone: One for a houseplant by this name, also known as the Redbird Cactus, although the plants pictured on the link that followed have nothing to do with a cactus (or a bird for that matter). It is in fact Pedilanthus tithymaloides in the Family Euphorbiaceae – all very interesting, but of no relevance to our rock formations. Then there is a film (also available on DVD) that goes by that name and was written by Guillermo del Toro. Another, more promising, link took me to Devil’s Backbone Open Space, in Larimer County, Colorado and another to an interesting place in Durango, Mexico. That’s why it takes so long for me to write these reports – I get too easily sidetracked.

I forget why we stopped at S475, I believe it was to look for Lobivia pugionacantha, a plant reputedly growing almost completely hidden below he soil and extremely hard to find unless it is in flower. So we were quite excited as we took pictures of three bright yellow flowers that seemingly came out of nowhere. But wait a moment – these are not Lobivia flowers! Typical Opuntia (probably Maihueniopsis)! Never mind, they still looked very nice and strange, just coming out of the soil.

S476 was just a quick stop to look at some more yellow flowers on the desert soil. This time the plant was visible above the soil. I have similar plants in my collection labelled Tephrocactus pentlandii (Maihueniopsis pentlandii sensu Kiesling).

S477 was one of the highlights of the itinerary: an opportunity to see Yavia cryptocarpa in habitat. Cactoholics are strange people: we travel half way round the world to cactus country, then get shaken and stirred on bumpy roads to end up standing in awe at the sight of some minuscule cactus that we are already familiar with because we have mature, attractive cultivated specimens in our collections back home. Once we arrive at the goal of our pilgrimage, we break our backs searching the ground to be the first to spot what we came to see. We all point our cameras at the first plant found, then start hunting for our own find and take pictures from a number of angles before calling our friends to show off our discovery and then take a look at theirs. I have witnessed this process in Brazil for Discocactus horstii and in Chile for Copiapoa laui and for several Thelocephala. We feel great at having succeeded and will go back to show our pictures at talks and lectures. Sadly, some folks need to go a step further and dig up some of the plants to take them back home as trophies from a big game hunt. Fortunately I am not aware of this last activity on our trip, but the original type locality for this species has apparently been stripped – no doubt by parties like ours, but where every member took ‘just one or three plants’ each – not many, but when cactus tourists come by the bus load ……. A real shame, because a significant effort was made by the authors of the original description to make sure that there was a significant amount of seed available around the world to meet the demand from the hobby for this interesting plant. So why are there still people who need to have a habitat specimen? There were a few plants found, no evidence of recent digging and some justification for optimism in the knowledge that there are now a number of locations in the area where this plant has been found. Looking at the landscape, there is no obvious reason why this area should not extend into Bolivia. There were also some nice P. maassii and Oreocereus celsianus, all worth of having their picture taken. It was good to have the images of O. celsianus, taken at the botanical gardens in Tilcara, in reserve, but I was glad now to be able to add pictures of the same ‘in the wild’. Our coughing and wheezing reminded us that we were in thin air at around 3,800 m (12,400 ft) and suffering the affects of ‘Cliftonnaires Disease’ (Geoff, am I using enough quotes to see if we have cracked this issue?)

S478 took us to the other side of La Quiaca, through the village of Yavi to a spot where Guillermo had in the past found Lobivia pugionacantha in flower. The sun was low in the sky at around 5 p.m. and we found plenty of Maihueniopsis boliviana. We found one incredibly spiny plant growing below a bush that we identified as the Lobivia. I’m still sceptical – I see a ball of spines and later found less regular shaped mounds that we identified as M. glomerata. I was unable to find our original find again for closer examination – often the way in habitat, where even a tripod left unattended can ‘disappear’ in the landscape. We were quite sure that we were in the right area for the Lobivia, as there were quite a few holes – evidence of recent selective digging – what a shame!

I had hoped against hope that somehow Brian Bates might have found a way around the lack of appropriate stamps in his Bolivian passport, to allow him back into the country, that had forced him to cancel his meeting with us in Tilcara and joining us on today’s trip. There must be some back roads that he could have slipped through, but I guess that his car with Bolivian plates is too well known in La Quiaca and he could not risk falling out with the authorities as he was due to take three German cactus tourists across the border a month later. Brian had left some (quite a few actually) of his slides with me in the UK, for use in presentations on future trips to the UK. However, these slides were now becoming quite dated and he had been able to update his slide collection with much more recent and better material. So the Brits had been asked to bring as many files with slides with us. The plan was that Brian would collect these in La Quiaca. Brian asked us to leave them with the manager of the Hotel, where he would pick them up later in November. Unfortunately, there appeared to have been a change in management at the hotel. The lady that Guillermo had booked trips with on previous occasions was no longer there and there seemed to be a great deal of uncertainty about who did what. Guillermo recommended that instead I’d leave the slides with the owner of the restaurant where we went for our dinner and fortunately, he was happy to cooperate, after I had shown him the contents of the rucksack and cardboard box of files containing slides of cacti. Quite right – they may have contained drugs or explosives!

I’m keeping my fingers crossed that Brain will be able to collect his slides any day now.

Today was a rest day, dedicated to sightseeing, souvenir shopping and a visit to the ancient fortifications at the Purcara de Tilcara, which also included the local botanical garden. At 2,500 m (c 8,200 ft) it was also a good place to acclimatise to high altitudes before our trip north to La Quiaca, tomorrow. In this respect, the town currently serves the same purpose as San Pedro de Atacama in Chile, towns focussed on tourists with pan pipes music coming from most artisan souvenir shops and bars.

As usual, internet cafes were closed when you needed them – I had been unable to send messages home to Angie for quite a few days. There are three time adjustments that need to be made on these trips. The first and obvious one is due to the different time zone where we find ourselves, with, in my case, four hours difference with the UK. The second is caused by the different seasons – it was Spring in Argentina with nature waking up for another growing season, while in England the days were noticeably shortening when we left. The third adjustment is down to local custom and our routines during the trips that just did not fit in. We’d be up early with the sun rising and the sound of cockerels ringing in our ears.(there were a few cockerels in mortal danger by insisting on crowing all night long). We were eager to get on the road and take in today’s cactus adventure. The staff of the hotels in general were used to tourists enjoying a lie in after enjoying themselves in the local bars the previous evening. So it was not unusual to find 14 tourists pacing up and down on the pavement outside the hotel to welcome the staff who would have to climb over our luggage in the foyer, ready and waiting to be squeezed onto the bus, while they went to the kitchen to squeeze our oranges and prepare breakfast. As we’d set off, towns began to bustle with kids walking to school – yes kids can still walk to school, unlike in England where mums drive a fleet of Chelsea Tractors through narrow streets not designed for this purpose, blocking roads as they stop for a chat or try to reverse into parking spaces large enough to park a bus. . At this time, we’d settle down and doze off during the drive to our first stop of the day, usually about an hour later. We’d be oblivious to the village pace of life, expecting dinner to be waiting when we’d arrive at the next hotel at around 6:30 in the evening. Argentineans rarely start thinking about their evening meal before 8:00 p.m. Any night life as such starts around 11:00 p.m. as we found this evening as we waited in a bar, watched the band set up and groups of exchange students arriving for their Saturday night on the town, just as we were ready to turn in for the night, ready for an early start the next day. Perhaps I was just becoming a grumpy old man. Naahh!!

Anyway, back to the main activity of the day – sightseeing. at one of the extensive (8 hectare) fortifications (Purcaras) built by the indigenous people along the Rio Grande valley, intended to stop the invasion by the Incas some 900 years ago, from the north. Some 500 years later, they had to defend themselves against the enemy from the south – the Spanish Conquistadors. The small botanical garden at the foot of the hill on which the fortress was built contained a cactus garden with most of the local cacti displayed in one place. Oreocereus celsianus was on tomorrow’s list of ‘first-time-in-habitat’ plants, but as they were in flower here, it did no harm to take a few images of flowers in captivity. Small rebutias, single headed specimens, planted out, some in flower looked out of place – I’m just too used to see large clumps covered in flowers in cultivation. (Ralph, these looked ‘cultivated’ – planted out, but not cared for and I wrote this before our discussion in cacti_etc). Here they were of course growing in habitat-like conditions with a ‘survive-or-die’ approach to the maintenance activities. Then on to the restored ruins of the fort. If each of the Trichocereus pasacana cramped onto the hill had been an indigenous inhabitant back in history, it must have been a bustling town. As the tourist guide says: ‘the long gorge of intensely coloured rock, arid mountains of warm terracotta, yellow, pink, cream and malachite green, speckled with giant cacti…’ could not help but impress. As we followed the trail through the fort, we spotted many Opuntia sulphurea and Gymnocalycium saglionis, with Tillandsias hanging from the Tricho stems. More than enough plants to merit the award of a PK Stop number (S471) – just to help me to arrange the images later.

I’ll extend the concept of a rest day to this short report.

It’s only some 7 km from Maimara to Tilcara, but we used the day to make a side trip west. We zigzagged up the Cuesta de Lipan – more camera fodder with spectacular views.

My GPS for our first stop (S467) showed an altitude of 3,851 m (12,643 ft). Having found the lat/long coordinates on Google Earth, the elevation is shown as 3,843 m – close enough for me! We found Maihueniopsis boliviana and M. glomerata as well as more Pyrrhocactus umadeave, but only with flowers on M. boliviana. It could be argued that the spination of the other two species is more impressive than the flowers, but it would have been nice to have seen some flowers to make the judgement ourselves.

S468 was the road crossing the Salinas Grandes, a huge snow-white and desolate salt lake with no plants, but with small groups of llamas and guanacos seen on the greenish vegetation growing on the edge of the lakes. The animals had a knack to turn their backs to any camera that was pointed at them, so I have plenty of pictures of llama rump on the hoof.

Back on terra firma, we stopped at a narrow gorge (S469) with large numbers of Trichocereus pasacana, many in flower. It was noticeable how much more plentiful this Tricho was in Argentina than on the other side of the border in Chile. Did this eastern side of the Andes get more moisture than the Chilean side? Or had the tourist industry in San Pedro used up all the Trichos for the building of houses and churches as well as souvenirs? How long did it take these plants to become 5 m (15 ft) plus giants? Why were there no small (say 30 cm – 1 ft tall) seedlings – was there no regeneration?

The road that we were on was the main road to San Pedro de Atacama, in Chile, via the Jama Pass. I had mixed feelings about this road, as in 2001, on the Chilean side, our 4×4 suffered a burned out clutch somewhere between the border and San Pedro and we were forced to make a descend from some 4,400 m (14,500 ft) to 2,350 m (7,715 ft) without the benefit of gears to use the engine to help us slow down and remain in control.

This time, the challenge was to keep the bus going – an automatic cut out on the engine to prevent it from overheating had been playing up on and off during the journey and Jorge and his co-driver had made daily (actually nightly) attempts to get to the bottom of the problem and fix it. It produced a number of ad-hoc stops, sometimes an opportunity for a welcome leg stretch and look around, sometimes a mild irritation as we wanted to get back to the hotels. It was a minor issue compared to having a clutch burn out!

We passed the old mining village of Susques, at 3,675 m (12,065 ft) and did not see much evidence of the town’s 18th century’s origin; it all looked very industrial and dusty. We drove on to Angosto del Taire and stopped at the summit of another minor pass – Altos del Morado (S470) where a sign proclaimed that we were at 4,170 m (13,691 ft) above sea level. Even in the best of health, it’s best to move slowly at this altitude as you soon run out of breath. With a bad cold and stuffed sinuses I could only muster up a short spell of enthusiasm to take a few pictures of tiny Lobivia einsteinii (syn. Rebutia einsteinii). I queued up with the others to take a couple of pictures of a group of four plants and managed to find another single plant, but was then exhausted with sinus pressures on my ears and eyes making it feel as if my head was about to explode. It was still 240 km to the Paso de Jama and the Chilean border and some 105 km back to Humahuaca and the lower altitudes of Tilcara. I believe I slept most of the journey back, woken up as the pressures on my sinuses reversed during the descent, despite the large quantities of Halls menthol-eucalyptus sweets that I was sucking. I was by no means the only one to suffer, but at the time, that was of little comfort to me..

I was glad to get to the hotel in Tilcara and was sufficiently recovered to enjoy the surprise of a typical altiplano band of Andean musicians giving us a private performance (we seemed to be the only guests in the hotel) of various tunes dominated by the characteristic pan flutes. I’m listening to their CD as I write this report.

Today’s first stop (S460) was at a water reservoir (Dique / Cuesta La Caldera), to see an Echinopsis (Lobivia?) for which, between us, we did not have a name. We are well aware that none of our stops were in remote, previously unexplored territory, so that the chances of finding a new undescribed cactus is perhaps marginally larger than nil. It may be that one of you reading these reports has been in the area and has found and tentatively identified a few of these plants. If you feel that you can suggest a name, or need to see an image of the plant to confirm your thoughts, I’d be pleased to hear from you.

With the benefit of hind sight, I wish I had followed the example of some of my fellow travellers who had meticulously followed our progress by marking off sections in the road atlases that Guillermo had provided. I felt confident that my GPS readings would be sufficient, as they would tell me precisely on Google Earth where we had been. While this is the case, Google Earth is not (yet?) very good for this part of the world at providing detailed location names. The Atlas I have has no longitude / latitudes marked off, just the names of towns and villages and road numbers, so it’s not until I have managed to get together with my fellow travellers that I can benefit from the information that they recorded. (Cliff, if you’re coming next weekend, please bring your road atlas and notes!).

As we carried on north, the road wound through a subtropical rainforest where Ian spotted a Trichocereus in flower between the Tillandsia covered trees. (S461). My guess would be that this was T. arboricola, but these stems were much more robust than the pot grown plant that I was familiar with at the Holly Gate Cactus Nursery in England. There, the typical white Echinopsis / Trichocereus flowers would appear from any areole at the top section of the stem, while here, the flowering zone was much more limited to the apex of the stem. The stems were 160 — 200 cm tall (5 — 6ft +) but growing in dense Acacia scrub, or high up on the steep, moss-clad rock face on the side of the road. In both events, it was difficult to get a good, unobstructed image. I also took a nice picture of a non-succulent climber with flowers and fruits very reminiscent of Clematis. Although I manage a small plant centre in the UK, the Clematis we sell are all hybrid cultivars, several generations apart from species growing in the wild. A quick search on Google suggests that an Argentinean Dr. Ruppel raised a famous Clematis hybrid named after him. More study to do –..

S462 was at El Cargadero (The Loadingbay), which, so far, I have not been able to find on maps. The attraction was the same Trichocereus sp from S461 and more trees covered in epiphytic plans including a Rhipsalis sp. These require a completely different photographic technique to normal terrestrial cacti. Because they grow high up in the trees, cameras often record silhouettes only. The tree from which they grow, reduces the amount of available light, causing increased exposure times. The free hanging stems swing merrily in the light breeze and, as I had left my camera manuals at home, I did not know how to override the automatic flash function that would kick in when I didn’t want it and could not be persuaded to function when I needed it. (note to self and all the others on the trip with the same problem and no solution: look up manual flash override’ in manual).

We had travelled quite a bit (two and a half hours) farther north, when we stopped near Laguna Volcan (S463) for lunch. Once again, we were able to add a few names to the list of taxa seen on this trip: Austrocylindropuntia vestita and Parodia stuemeri (syn. P. tilcarensis) — poking out from clumps of Abromeitiella brevifolia; growing alongside Cleistocactus hyalacantha seen earlier.

We were now on Ruta 9, the main road from Salta and San Salvador de Jujuy to the Bolivian border at La Quiaca / Villazon. Here, the road followed the valley of (another) Rio Grande as it flowed through the Quebrada de Humahuaca. There were impressive views out of the bus window on the mountain range to our right (east) and I managed to take quite a few half decent images while we were driving past the hills at some 70 km per hour.

S464 was a brief leg stretch stop for some more scenic pictures, particularly of a nice stand of Trichocereus pasacana growing on the not so steep slopes of material that, over time, had eroded from the steeper, higher mountains. In case I had not mentioned this before, in Kiesling’s classification this plant is called Trichocereus atacamensis, while the CITES Cactaceae Checklist has it as Echinopsis atacamensis ssp pasacana (with plants over the border in Chile known as E. atacamensis ssp atacamensis). We carried on with being politically incorrect, calling them Trichocereus pasacana.

S465 was on the outskirts of Purmamarca we found a slate outcrop where Guillermo pointed out some Blossfeldia lilliputana. These are amazing tiny plants, reported to be the best of the Cactaceae at surviving an extreme amount of dehydration (some 80% of their body weight) and able to bounce back once water becomes available again. Some of the plants looked extremely dehydrated, like dried up potato chips / crisps, depending on which side of the Atlantic you learned your English. Anne was the only one to find a plant in flower, and soon a queue of photographers lined up to take its picture. As we followed the track, we walked through some very colourful hills, particularly strong on reds and found Parodia stuemeri and large Gymnocalycium saglionis. The track led to the village of Purmamarca, where the daily market was in full swing. As we walked past the stalls, it struck me that I had seen the same designs on the T shirts, woven carpets and linens during our past visits to San Pedro de Atacama, on the other sides of the Andes, in Chile. When I purchased a fine embroidered tablecloth, the bag it was packed in indicated its Bolivian origin, where labour costs appear to be the lowest in the area.

Back on the bus, we continued our journey north, with the colours of the hills to the east becoming more prominent as the sun sank lower in the sky. Around 17:30 we stopped east of Maimara (S466) where the geology was particularly fascinating and colourful. After a short stroll, the hills provided a perfect back drop for Trichocereus pasacana, with at their feet a selection of incredibly longspined Echinopsis longispina (better known in the UK by its synonym Lobivia ferox), Gymnocalycium saglionis (to basket ball size!), while we had to wade through thousands of Opuntia sulphurea. I wish that some one had told the Opuntias of our non-collecting agreement, as they attached themselves to foot wear and trousers.

Another great day! Tomorrow we’ll make a side trip towards the Chilean border and cross some salt flats.

This was the first time on the trip that we’d stay two nights in the same hotel, so a good opportunity to arrange for a bag of laundry to be processed while we were enjoying a day at the Quebrada del Toro.

I forgot to mention in previous reports that Diego, our other guide, had to return to Cordoba and would then be flying out to Mexico to attend a botanical conference. For one day, Guillermo had to fill all the tour leader functions unassisted, but today’s images show that Guillermo’s brother-in-law, Emilio, had joined us.

So it was Emilio who joined Guillermo in the daily shopping trolley race to stock up with supplies, this time in a huge hypermarket on the outskirts of Salta. We also indulged in a bit of shopping and Rob bought a transparent washing up bowl to act as emergency stand in diffuser. A diffuser is a very useful tool when taking pictures in high contrast light conditions, such as Gymnos underneath bushes, partially exposed to full very strong sunlight, partly in the shade. Another useful tool is a reflector, such as the one that Woody had clipped to his belt, that could be unfolded to a disk, about a meter (1 ft) across. This could be used to reflect natural light into dark shadowy places. In Brazil, we would ask follicly challenged (bald) Brian Bates to fulfil the same function, but he was stuck north of the border with Bolivia.

I have 7 stops recorded for the day, ranging from 1,665 to 2,789 m (5,466 – 9,157 ft) in altitude. According to the medical profession, High Altitude is from 1500 – 3500 m (5000 – 11500 ft); Extreme Altitude is above 5,500 m (18,000 ft) and Very High Altitude is the bit in between. People who experience altitude sickness, usually complain of symptoms above 2,500 m (8,000 ft). As we’d be travelling up to the Very High Altitude level during this week, it was useful to learn how we’d react. There seems to be no guarantee that because you have not had any bad effects previously, you won’t experience problems this time. For those who want to know more, I suggest a look at http://www.high-altitude-medicine.com

S453 was at the lower end of the Quebrada, a steep rock face where the road had been built to zigzag up, hugging the mountainside. We found Cleistocactus hyalacanthus, Rebutia deminuta and R. marsoneri (syn. R. wessneriana) as well as an Echinopsis (Lobivia?) sp. Guillermo managed to climb some 30 m (90 ft) up the almost perpendicular rock face and shouted down that he found some Rebutias. ‘Send us a postcard!’ we replied, as others had found the same plant at eye-level and were clicking away with their cameras. The problem with these lower plants was that they were covered with caked on dust / mud, so that IDing the plants was even more of a challenge than usual.

20 minutes farther on was a similar location (S454) with an Euphorbia sp. added to the list. The attractions here however were four Rebutia plants with a red flower each. How different from Rebutia in a British Spring – a true riot of colour!

We made another very brief stop to allow Mark to do some field collecting – of insulators, from the top of disused (?) telephone poles. I did not bother to note the GPS and allocate a stop number, but have a nice picture of Mark at the top of his climb.

An hour later and still climbing, we found Maihueniopsis boliviana, Parodia faustiana and P. nivosa while Trichocereus pasacana towered overhead, as well as a small padded, densely spined Opuntia sp. (S455). In terms of numbers, Abromeitiella (brevifolia ?) was the dominant plant, if each head in the huge cushions counts as an individual plant. Some P. nivosa had somehow managed to germinate underneath the bromeliads and eventually managed to grow through the cushion. Despite the grey skies, they made a great picture!

On to S456, and now things got really interesting: Gymnocalycium spegazzini, Pyrrhocactus umadeave, Parodia stuemeri alongside Maihueniopsis boliviana, Trichocereus pasacana, and the Pyrrhocactus and Maihueniopsis were in flower! It was just the one Pyrrhocactus with two flowers, a third passed over, and several buds. The spegs were very nicely spined, but I had seen better on friends’ pictures.

If you look up Quebrada del Toro on an internet search engine, you’ll get an impression of the scenery that the colourful rock formations provide – great views! I was beginning to understand my friends’ original selection of Argentina as best cactus country. It’s a mixture of a large variety of aspects with very different personal weightings that make people arrive at such selections. Personally, I really like to take pictures of cacti with the sea or ocean in the background – the paradox of draught tolerance specialists and huge bodies of water in the same frame.

S457 is the same list of plants but at least now I can compete with Graham & Leo van der Hoeven’s speg pics. Lots more umadeave’s as well. And more of the same at S458. I looked desperate for a clue of why these plants thrived here, while in Europe they are often regarded as ‘impossible’ by most, even when grafted. I’m sure that this will prompt comments from those that have no problem growing this plant. Please tell us how.

I took many more scenery shots from the bus as we descended back down the Quebrada. Satisfied with another day cactussing, we arrived back at our hotel in San Lorentzo, one of Salta’s outlying suburbs, with some impressive homes. The last ‘stop’ of the day, S459, was the road from the restaurant, where we enjoyed our evening dinners, to the hotel. The area’s flora was that of a subtropical rainforest, with the trees lining the road covered in epiphytes, including a very difficult to photograph Rhipsalis sp. – light was poor, calling for longer exposures while the stems were swinging in a light breeze.

Our list of Argentinean cacti included Rhipsalis lorentziana, a coincidence? Should I keep the images of the Rhipsalis ‘on the move’, including some of plants in flower and in fruit or do I ditch them – It’s getting late in the day to make such weighty decisions – good night.

Aahh, Cachi! That’s Cacti with an h. Did it live up to its name? Well, on entering the charming local church, we were impressed to find the ceiling made of cactus wood. So was the lectern and confessional. So, does that make cactology a religion instead of a science, obsession or hobby?

S446 was on the outskirts of town, where we found an Echinopsis sp. (or was it Acanthocalycium thionantha?), Gymnocalycium spegazzini, Parodia aureicentra, P. microsperma (syn. var. cachiana) and Tephrocactus weberi. Another point of interest was a string of huge black ants carrying bits of leaf, neatly cut into chunks up to three times the size of the ant. They seemed to be taking a complete bush apart, carrying it in pieces across the piece of wasteland where the string suddenly disappeared. Were they rebuilding it there? What? Why? How? Nature is fascinating – it makes you think!

As yesterday at S445, we found P. aureicentra, growing in slate. I think it was Cliff, who pointed out the small papery wasp nest with half a dozen huge wasps, clinging to the nest, waiting for the temperature to rise. It looked like a scene from a science fiction film: fighter space ships, clinging onto the mothership before flying out on a mission.

S447 was in the Cachi mountains. Again, we found P. aureicentra, again on slate. I’ll have to ask Angie if she has this species in her greenhouse. If so, I’ll suggest she repots it into slate as well. Maihueniopsis boliviana, one of the higher altitude cacti, reminded us that we were now at 2,828 m (9,285 ft). The opposite hillside was very attractive, worthy of a picture as well, particularly as a back drop for the numerous T. pasacana.

Back on the bus, the Coolpix 995 came into its own: just switch on the camera, no need to twist the lens in the traditional position for taking pictures, this leaves the lens pointing at the scenery passing by the bus, leaving you to look out through the front windscreen to see what’s coming and occasionally to press the shutter to share the view with others back home. Tip: at the next
stop, score brownie points by being amongst the first on the bus and get one of your mates in trouble by making them the last on board, by asking them to clean your window on the outside. Beware as they seek their revenge!

S448 was a scenery rather than cactus stop in the Parque Nacional Los Cardones. We were now at 3,376 m (11,084 ft) according to my GPS, 3,348 m according to the sign along the road announcing that we were at Piedra del Molino. We were up in fog (= clouds) and was cold enough to be glad for the warmth of the air-conditioned bus. We had zigzagged to the top and could now
enjoy the sight of the road zigzagging back down on the other side of the hill.

Still in the Parque, but 250 m lower, we parked on one of the bends (S449) and took a stroll in the cold along a hillside path and found tiny Rebutia marsoneri (syn. R. wessneriana), almost the size of a 10 centavo piece (useful to indicate scale to anyone who knows the size of this coin – useless to any one who doesn’t). Why do we do this? Because we don’t carry a pocket full of our homeland’s currency around Argentinean mountainsides, I guess. In Chile, I used match sticks to provide a scale for Copiapoa laui and humilis and for Thelocephala – I had only recently given up smoking then. These days I no longer carry matches. In the UK, I’m more used to see this Rebutia filling washing-up bowls, completely hidden under hundreds of flowers for about a week sometime during end April / early May. So its size seems to be an environmental rather than genetic feature.

Among the lichen clinging to the rocks, John (or was it Charles) spotted some small Opuntiods, some very red (stressed?) in colour. Were these Puna sp.?
Later we saw some larger plants: Cumulopuntia? Maihueniopsis? Tephrocactus? Which one?

The views and scenery were impressive, even on a cold misty day. Just imagine on a bright sunny day!

We dropped another 250 m to S450. Just behind some barbed wire was another ‘first-time-on-this-trip’ cactus: Trichocereus smrzianus, in bud. I felt cold and miserable (Clifftonnaires Disease and altitudes don’t mix). I could not be bothered to climb through the wire fence, so my images show it as a convict plant, behind barbed wire. The mystery Opuntiod made another appearance too.

Two and a half hours later, we found ourselves along a dried up riverbed (S451), with trees dripping with epiphytes: bromeliads, orchids and, if we’d looked long enough, cacti (Rhipsalis and Pfeifferi) and between the mosses on the steep rocky sides of the road, R. marsoneri (R. wessneriana) again. So you can’t draw many conclusions about a plant’s cultivation needs by recording conditions at just one habitat, during a 30 minute visit. If it has not reported from anywhere else, then you have some clues. If it is reported from various locations, you can’t assume that they are all like the one that you’ve seen during that snapshot in time. Guillermo picked some great spots to illustrate the point.

We arrived in the bustling town of Salta and were amazed to see how the traffic flowed without traffic controls. We passed some camera shops and were let loose on the large plaza in front of the cathedral in the failing light on an overcast evening at around 6:30. To help organize my images I have filed them under S452. We managed to find the camera shops, where Mike was able to find a charger for his camera batteries, but Woody failed to find a replacement for the transparent protector bit for the monitor on the back of his D70. Rob had accidentally left his home-made light diffuser some stops ago and failed to find a purpose built replacement.

We were about to start our second week in the field (or was it on the bus?) and my stop numbers indicated that we had made 40 cactus stops. Not bad for a week’s work — oops – holiday.

S440 offered Cleistocactus smaragdiflorus, Echinopsis leucanthus and Opuntia sulphurea, but, at around 12 noon, provided a useful opportunity to stretch legs. There are stretches like this on all cactus trips, where there is just nothing new or special to see until you’ve put some distance between the last and next location.

Some twenty minutes later, we were at Los Sauces (S441) where Acanthocalycium thionanthum, Gymnocalycium spegazzini, and Tephrocactus molinensis provided more of interest, alongside O. sulphurea. The spegs here were solid and heavily spined — nothing yet to compete with var. major, where spines completely obscure the plant body from view, but heavy enough to be of interest to collectors, as indicated by the many holes that clearly had been home to sizeable spegs. I’m not sure what it takes to change the mind set of hobbyists for whom owning (and often killing) an ex-habitat and (outside its country of origin) illegally obtained plant, rather than a plant raised from habitat seed. Seeing large holes at a location that must have been very
impressive before the theft from nature is a very sad and unnecessary sight. I’ve seen it in Brazil, Chile and now Argentina.

The best contribution we can make is not to buy ex-habitat plants when they are on offer — no demand, no poaching.

Nearby S442 had much the same plants as S441, plus Parodia microsperma ssp horrida.

It was a late picnic lunch at Santa Rosa (S443). There were numerous single jointed ephrocactus molinensis scattered around in the sand — it reminded me of the time that I had intended to take a T. articulatus (papyracantha) to a branch show and ended up with at least 100 individual pieces before the plant had reached my car!

There were large numbers of Acanthocalycium thionanthum here, in full bud. It must have been a spectacular sight, a week or so later. Again, nursery bushes were preferred.

Again we pushed on — this was a driving day — to S444 — La Angostura, but despite the distance covered, still the same plants: G. spegazzini, O. sulphurea, T. molinensis and T. weberi. Many taxa seem to enjoy a very wide distribution area, more so than in Chile where in the narrow strip along the Pacific species seem to change of much smaller distances when traveling South — North and even more so when travel west — east where, in most places altitudes rise from sea level quickly to 1,000 m plus. In Brazil (Bahia & Minas Gerais) many taxa occur only in relatively small locations. Yes I’m aware that others (e.g. Cereus jamacaru in Brazil and Trichocereus chiloensis in Chile and Opuntias anywhere) are wide spread, but in my limited experience, this is less usual for globular cacti like the spegs and Echinopsis leucantha. There were some very clean spegs on show, and that is exactly where their show bench should remain — in nature!

We spotted a different Parodia, P. aureicentra, at (S445). So far I had not been impressed by habitat Parodia. They tended to be small and look ‘dirty’. Here the plants were growing in vertical strips of slate. Very free draining! Perhaps the reason why they looked quite de-hydrated, although this emphasized their dense golden spination.

Craig Howe, who shared his Diaries of a trip with Guillermo last year, tells me how fortunate I am to be able to do such trips annually and says he can’t wait until he is retired. Actually, I’m only 52, so still have a few years to go. I feel that I’ve reached that golden age where you have earned the right to do what you want: the kids have left home and have learned to stop asking for more money to top up their student loans, my elderly parents are comfortable in health & wealth and my divorce a few years ago released me from that barrier, plus I have a partner, Angie, who is as besotted with cacti and travel as I am and encourages me to indulge and joins me when ever she can. My boss has got used to me handing in holiday requests three years in advance.

Now, back to the Diaries.

S437 is in fact the area around Hosteria Ruines de Quilmes and consisted of Echinopsis sp, Gymnocalycium saglionis, G. spegazzini, Opuntia sulphurea, Tephrocactus weberi and Trichocereus pasacana. The Trichos completely dominated the landscape. I’m not sure if they were planted in and among the remains of the Quilmes Indian’s town or if they were already part of the landscape when the Ruins were transformed into a tourist attraction, but they were as impressive as any Saguaro stand that I’ve seen in Arizona.

The usual mesquite / Acacia scrub presented the other dominant flora feature on the plain where the hotel and the ruins were set and at the base of the hills that rose to the west. These low, very spiny bushes were not yet in leaf, so you could at least see the spines. Once again, the Gymnos tended to be nestled at the base of these bushes, or right in the middle of an impenetrable patch of shrubs. This is where tripods are useful — to push the branches aside so that you can get into the thorn patch, take the picture, and then worry about getting back out. Looking at my images, it seems that G. saglionis seemed to prefer this shelter, while G. spegazzini was more commonly seen in open exposed situations. It could of course be the case that, being slower growers, the spegs had survived their nursery bush while (at least in cultivation) the faster growing sags still had the benefit of theirs. You see how easy it is to jump to conclusions! As the branches were bare, the amount of shade that the bush provided was minimal, but of course, this snapshot in time does not tell us how many months the shrubs are in leaf, how much shade they are then able to provide, if there are other benefits to the Gymno, such as the branches acting as \221fog-catchers’ directing any dew or mists (if there any) to the base of the plant, etc.

Just as you think that you’ve reached a reasonable conclusion, the next stop (S438) contradicts your finding. The stop was prompted by a T. pasacana (or was it still a hybrid, and should it be pasacana x terscheckii or terscheckii x pasacana) in flower, spotted from the bus — any cactus in flower was worth a stop. But in terms of numbers, G. spegazzini was the dominant plant. It grew in open exposed places, in the grass (the grass was not yet in growth, but from dried up polls, it seemed that at the peak of the grass season, it would completely hide the spegs from view and from the burning sun), under and among shrubs etc, apparently at random. Bye bye theories. Some were globular, others (in more exposed places) tended to be spiny pancakes, flat to the ground. Any theories? No, I’ll await until the first image-review get together with other cactophiles and a few bottles of Argentinean Malbec for that. They were big — at least 25 cm (10 inches) in diameter, and there were a few crests amongst them; not pretty, like the smiling Copiapoa columna-alba last year, but looking \221damaged’. I have kept 79 digital images from this stop, so I’ll have to do a bit more pruning to arrive at the one-per-taxon target for each stop on a website.

I did not enjoy S439 very much. My Clifftonnaires Disease had really affected my lungs — I found it difficult to get enough air into my lungs as we marched along a narrow path, guided by a young lad who must have been keen to get back to the Bocca Juniors game on the telly. We were following the Rio Colorado upstream, towards a waterfall near the top of the hill where Parodia microsperma and P. penicillata grew against and hanging from the vertical cliff face. Dick and Phyllis were the first to see sense and decided to wait for us to return. Anne was next. I’m not a quitter by nature and did not want to give up when some of the others — several decades my senior — were still climbing around like mountain goats. A steep climb, close to our goal was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Not for the first time on cactus trips I allowed common sense to take over (Remember Pico das Almas, Brian?) and on each occasion had really enjoyed the peace and quiet while exploring at my leisure as I started the walk back to the bus. I found the two Parodias, not in huge numbers, but sufficient to tell the story at a future talk. I spent more time at one of the places we had stopped for a breather on the way up, and this time, instead of queuing for pictures, photographed the flora on a tree — a member of the mistletoe family, the usual Tillandsias, lychens and, surprise, surprise, some cacti growing epiphytically: Trichocereus and Parodia seedlings!

During the crossing of the river, using smooth round boulders as stepping stones, I had lost my balance and the camera, hanging from a strap around my shoulder, had swung forward and attempted to dislodge another boulder — it failed. The lens sun hood was cracked and the next day, the 18 — 70 mm zoom facility gradually became limited to 65 — 70 mm, while I seemed to be able to take pictures around a 5 degree corner, instead of a straight line. An insurance claim is in progress.

I was not the only person with camera problems. I had brought two – Nikon Coolpix 995, technically now belonging to my son Christiaan, but I was allowed to use it for the trip, and a Nikon D70, with the aforementioned lens, plus a 50 – 200 mm lens that allowed me to carry on using that camera, although this now had to be used with a tripod to get acceptable pictures. On balance, I was best pleased with images taken with the 995. It has an unusual feature in that you can twist the lens part through 360 degrees from the main body with the monitor screen, so that you can take low angle shots of a cactus with the sky in the background, without having to lie flat on the desert floor, which is often covered in animal excrement and / or cactus spines.

My peace and quiet was over, when those that had reached the goal, caught up with me and over took me on the return journey. It appears that (once again) I had not missed anything particularly special at the top, but of course I’ll never know for sure, until I see the images taken by my fellow travellers.

It was not far to our hotel, where the first litre of Quilmes disappeared rather quickly before subsequent bottles were enjoyed in more relaxed fashion.