Early morning in the bus terminal. We jumped in the only bus heading to Purmamarca. In fact no bus can reach the village center as it is quite isolated and diverted to the mountains. "Balut" bus (it's the company's name) was gently chasing the main road when it suddenly stopped and the driver shouted "Parmamarca!!". We looked at the window first then at each other: the road was silently empty, not a single human being in sight, we could even hear the flies. We rushed to the exit door and followed Balut's instructions suggesting to wait for a "coche" (car) that would pick us up from here. Oh well, another harmless absurd situation! As we watched the bus disappearing in a cloud of dust, we just waited for the next surprise. Few minutes later, a "coche" full of people did pick us up to the center. The permanent smily face driver had the most amusing expression!
Purmamarca here we are... The village quickly seduced and moved us. Jujuy's charming province where the village is delightfully located appears to be wilder, poorer, more primitive and emotionnal than Salta's province. Native indian traditions, culture and music (andean flutes) are deeply practiced and that definitely slipped us into a dream world. We listened to a few concerts and discovered local singer Monica Pantoja ( "La Zagala de Humahuaca" is a wonderful album). Jujuy's province cemeteries are famous for the flowering decorated graves but also (and surprisingly) the bliss, colors and serenity they inspire. I couldn't get my eyes off that hidden little place. In the morning, we woke up facing the majestic mountain glowing with pride from the wooden window and had some fresh farm milk to stengthen up.
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