More from Cafayate.

Our travels continue.

San Martin, Calchaqui Valley, Argentina

May 5th, 2026

The setting sun at San Martín, taken by my husband Adrien.

Dear Reader,

Along the drive back from Cafayate to San Martín on Sunday afternoon, we stopped to visit a couple who are ceramicists. One of them is from Mendoza and the other is from Buenos Aires. They live in a house nestled amongst the dramatic jagged rock chain called Las Flechas, the arrows.

The two met, fell in love, and moved to the Calchaqui Valley 27 years ago. They have a workshop in their home, and teach once a week in the nearby town of San Carlos.

“This wheel here,” explained Raphael, a thin man in his sixties, wearing a yellow tee shirt, green pants with elastic around the ankles, and a long bushy grey beard, “is the first potter’s wheel in the Calchaqui Valley.”.

Raphael at the potter’s wheel in his workshop.

“I’ll show you the house.”, suggested Cecilia. “We built it together with just one helper.”.

Cecilia is a tall, slim woman in her mid fifties. She has good bone structure and lots of dark, curly hair which she wore pulled back in a loose braid. She took me to the kitchen, the outdoor living room, the bathroom, and guest bedroom.

The floors were made of uneven stones, and the rest of the house was made of adobe. The furniture was a collection of handmade pieces and collected items. There were old photographs on the walls. An antique television sat on the floor of the guest room. The whole vibe reminded me of a New Mexican desert house from the 1970’s.

“There are the toilets.”, she said pointing to a little house some feet away from the main house.

“And this is where we meditate.”, she said. We looked in at a rectangular shaped room with bay windows facing the mountain range. Mats, rugs, and cushions lay on the floor. There was an altar on the far side of the room with various statues and images.

The meditation room.

In Cafayate we attended a wine festival, a two night affair held at one of the main wineries in town owned by a third generation wine maker.

“It’s the biggest event of the year here.”, our taxi driver informed us.

The evening began with a wine tasting. Each guest was given a complimentary glass upon entry.

We strolled over to the gallery where the thirty some wine makers had set up their booths. It was swamped with people. Young folks in their twenties and thirties wearing skimpy skirts, belly revealing tops, oversized jeans, trendy glasses, and folk inspired felt hats stormed the booths holding their glasses up in front of them.

The winemakers desperately poured one glass then another, trying to keep up with the pressing crowd. I felt bad for them. But our friend and maker of our own Tacana wine was optimistic.

“I know the organizers and they invite me every year.”, he explained. “Most of the attendees are young and wouldn’t normally drink wine so I see it as an opportunity for them to see my brand; maybe they’ll snap a few photos, and even decide they really like it…it doesn’t cost me much and it’s good exposure. It’s not really a tasting.”, he said with a laugh. “It’s a drinking! Here, let me give you a good pour.”.

With our glasses full of our friend’s white and red wines, we took off to check out the festival.

A huge stage was set up on one side of the park. Another friend had bought a table on the stage, so we’d be partying up there later. Vendors selling hats, shawls, and offering manicures and fake tattoos, had set up their booths under a tent.

Fire pits were ready to light for later in the night, and there were a couple of huge fur rugs on the ground for people to sit on. Food trucks waited on another side of the park serving Japanese and Argentine fare.

The setting was gorgeous - palm trees basked in the setting sun, then the full moon rose above the bare mountains, and the multitude of Coachella styled attendees laughed and danced to gentle electro beats.

Here I am wearing my own felt hat and with the stage in the background.

Tomorrow we head back to Salta, leaving our pup Ramona in the housekeeper’s care since we’ll be traveling from there to meet my parents in Buenos Aires, and then on to Asuncion, Paraguay.

More to come!

Abrazos,

Mariah