By Kate Granville-Jones

In the far northwest of Argentina’s vast territory lies the sparsely populated, seldom visited province of Catamarca. Remote Antofagasta de la Sierra, 500km north of the provincial capital, is about as far from Buenos Aires, literally and figuratively, as you can get.

The tiny town nestles among sandy red bluffs, black cinder cone volcanoes sprouting across it like mushrooms. Llamas and alpacas graze, and pink flamingos line the lake beside the town. To the north, huge salt flats reflect the sky and to the west, the mountains rise up to meet the Andes.

We decided to drive there from Tucumán on Christmas Eve, the day after torrential rains.

No-one can tell us if the roads are passable or not – even the police can’t get through to anyone in the area. But we decide to try our luck and put our Argentine friend’s little car to the test.

The policeman looks at us dubiously from his luxury 4WD patrol car and wishes us luck.

Leaving the clouds behind us, we drive south along Ruta 40 into Catamarca. Passing through rugged canyon country and isolated adobe huts. In one village the locals are decorating for Christmas celebrations – they invite us to the party, if we don’t make it to Antofagasta.

Photo By: Kate Granville Jones

The first river crossing comes not long after – a red, milky torrent that completely obscures the road. I wade across as a test – not so deep. The car has a more difficult time, spraying water and scraping the bottom, but we make it.

The road becomes gravel as we turn onto Ruta 43, the ‘highway’ we will follow through 200 km of surreal, spectacular scenery. The little Golf manages three more river corssings and we pass from the valley, lined with red crumbly sandcastle cliffs, to the altiplano.

Up here, the air is thin, and distances stretch out to unreal proportions. The only signs of life are camouflaged herds of delicate vicuñas, small ladylike relatives of the llama. We reach the pass, 4,000 metres above sea level. Before us stretches a jumbled sea of mountains, expanses of salt, sand dunes, and turquoise pools, with the tips of a few Andean peaks visible in the distance.

Photo By: Kate Granville Jones

We advance in a cloud of dust towards Antofagasta de la Sierra. Curving around the flanks of a volcano, twisted black lava piling up on each side of the road, with a small green lake coming into view at the bottom. Speckled with pink flamingos, at the foot of a red cliff, is the town.

It’s dusk on Christmas Eve and bundled town children are rehearsing a Nativity play in the square. At 3,440 metres above sea level, Antofagasta nights are freezing year round – in winter, the temperature can drop to -20?C.

We find lodging with the lovely Doña Pascuala, who shares Christmas dinner with us, and then climb the hill behind the town. The altitude combines with the small hill to render us weak and panting. From above, Antofagasta is just a smudge in an endless expanse of wind and wild rocks.

Photo By: Kate Granville Jones

This is a different Argentina. The faces streaming out of the church at the end of the service are indigenous, their dress more Bolivian than porteño. Here, in Catamarca, native resistance to Spanish occupation was among the fiercest in Argentina.

Throughout the 17th century, the tribes in the Calchaquies valleys, over the mountains to the east of Antofagasta, waged a ferocious rebellion against the invaders, which ended with the construction of several fortresses in the region and the near total genocide of many of the local tribes.

Under the midnight moon, a wooden virgin is paraded through the streets of town. In this desolate landscape of red rock, seemingly so far from the modern world, we almost could be in ancient Bethlehem.

The children of Antofagasta eventually begin their interminable nativity play – we nearly manage to sit through until Christ’s birth, but cold is to fierce and drives us inside.

Photo By: Kate Granville Jones

The incredible road trip to Antofagasta is in itself the main attraction, whether you do it by bus from Catamarca city or preferably with your own or hired wheels – with your own transport there’s plenty to explore in the surrounding area.

As a respite from the hectic pace of Buenos Aires, the space, silence and isolation of Antofagasta are tourist attractions in themselves.