Villa Vil

The Road to Villaville

The ride to Villaville was one of those journeys where the road keeps offering gifts you didn’t know you were looking for. Just as I reached the outskirts of Belén, I stumbled upon the Quebrada de Belén. It is a stunning, lush green canyon carved by a winding river—a sight so unexpected in this landscape that I ended up riding through it twice: once just to soak it in, and a second time to capture the light with my camera. Further down the road, I encountered a massive flock of vibrant green parrots. I couldn’t resist pulling out my long lens and spending a good while “hunting” them through the viewfinder, enjoying the challenge of tracking their frantic, colorful flight.

About fifteen minutes later, the landscape shifted again, revealing a geological marvel that looked like a fleet of stone ships. Whether they are called Los Botes Hundidos or the “Boat Cemetery,” the sight of those massive, inclined pyramids rising from the soil was astonishing. The erosion had aligned them perfectly, like ancient monuments. I decided to pull the motorcycle over and make it my lunch spot, taking advantage of the midday sun to launch my drone and capture the geometric patterns from above.

Solitude Among the Castles

I eventually rolled into Villaville, a quiet village of only about 200 inhabitants. It’s the kind of place where time seems to move at a different pace. I managed to find a municipal hostel that was incredibly affordable—only 15,000 pesos—which is a rarity in Argentina these days. I had a massive room all to myself, and the woman in charge treated me with a warmth that made the simple accommodations feel like home.

The next morning, I set out at sunrise for Los Castillos de Villaville—the “Castles of Villaville.” I had studied the maps and knew exactly where I wanted to go. While the local regulations technically require a guide to visit the site, I chose to head out solo. For my photography, I need silence and the freedom to move at my own rhythm without the pressure of a group. The hike was spectacular. Being alone in that hidden, vast site felt like a privilege. The “castles” themselves are a revelation of Earth’s history, with distinct thermal layers of white and orange sediment revealing the evolution of the planet through millions of years of erosion.

An Unexpected Vanishing Act

As I was making my way out of a small valley, I heard a persistent yelling. At first, I worried it was someone shouting at me for being there without a guide, but after fifteen minutes of searching for the source, I realized it was a baby goat. The poor thing was stuck on a cliffside, unable to find its way down. Shortly after, I spotted a group of people approaching in the distance. Not wanting any trouble or awkward explanations about my solo hike, I looped around the other side of the ridge to avoid them.

While walking, I instinctively patted my pocket to check for my wallet. It was there. But by the time I rode back to the hostel and reached for it again, it had vanished. It was gone—totally and completely. I checked my bag three times, then a fourth, but the reality set in: my driver’s license, my motorcycle property card, and my Colombian credit card were all gone. I visited the local tourism office and left my contact information, but as the days passed, nothing turned up. It’s a stressful situation, especially knowing I’ll eventually have to face border officials without my original papers.

Work and the High Puna

Since I was stranded in a way, I turned the misfortune into a productive retreat. I stayed in Villaville for five days, hunkered down and working. I spent my time researching and designing a new travel itinerary for Guatemala, focusing on a blend of avian biodiversity and local culture. Between the research and coding new features for my website, the week disappeared quickly.

I’m a bit behind my original schedule for April, as I’ve spent more time working and traveling slowly than I intended, but finishing these projects was essential. Now that the work is delivered and my mind is clear, I feel a sense of freedom again. Despite the missing documents and the logistical hurdles ahead, I’m ready to leave the quiet streets of Villaville behind and climb toward the high altitudes of the Argentinian Puna.