Another win for Argentina.

and the winds of the valley keep me up at night.

Salta, Argentina

July 17th, 2026

Dear Reader,

On Wednesday afternoon, we drove into Angastaco, a dusty mountain town about a thirty minute drive from the ranch. It was dustier than usual because of the winter winds, and the air blew hot and dry. Sort of like a hair drier filled with sand and dirt.

We hustled into the local café to watch the Argentina vs. England match. There were two TV’s in either of the corner of the small room. We snagged the only table left, a four top. Soon a small family walked in so the café owner, a middle aged man wearing a black teeshirt and glasses, took half of our table out to accommodate them.

“What can I get you?”, he asked. “I’m only serving drinks, no food.”.

Adrien ordered a beer, and I asked for a café con leche.

Like previous games, Argentina started out badly but prevailed in the end. The folks in the café cheered and hollered. Outside horns began honking, and people got in their trucks and cars to parade through the streets waving Argentine flags, jerseys, blue and white streamers, and balloons.

Watching the game at a local café in Angastaco.

Back at San Martín, the wind blew so hard that the sky was covered in thick grey smoke. The villagers and workers had all assembled in each other’s homes to watch the game, and a sheep that had died was barbecued for the occasion.

Adrien dropped off some fresh loaves of bread for them, and a couple of bottles of Coca Cola.

“They’re peleando.”, he said. “Gotta keep them happy.”.

The peleada happens twice a year in winter and summer. Every worker plus a few extras who are pulled in just for this occasion take a shovel and spend several weeks shoveling out the canal. It’s part of the cleaning process that has to be done to keep it running smoothly.

The wind blew through the night keeping me from sleep for the most part of it. The night was warm and we had no need for a fire. Around the middle of the night it cooled off, and in the morning we made a fire in the office just for the sake of coziness.

Around 8.30am the wind died down and I breakfasted outside. It was peaceful, and the doves cooed in the pepper tree.

Later, we made the trip back to Salta through Cafayate. There too the mountains were practically obscured by the dust kicked up by the wind. There had been a fire too; the trees were charred and the ground covered in ash.

The desolate landscape outside Cafayate.

Back in Salta, it’s hot as a summer’s day. We’ll spend the weekend here and head to Buenos Aires and then to Paris on Sunday. I’ll write to you from there.

Saludos!

Mariah

P.S. If you haven’t heard my recent podcast interview for Rick Barron’s That’s Life, I Swear, you can listen to it here.