Buenos Aires is the starting point—and the flashpoint—of Argentine history. Time has transformed, if not erased, the colonial quarters of Monserrat and San Telmo, but it’s the epic of independence, the era of immigration and excess, the populism of the Peróns, and the ruthless 1976–1983 dictatorship that helped create contemporary Argentina.

Early Argentine art is derivative, but Buenos Aires is now the heart of a vigorous contemporary painting, sculpture, and multimedia scene. The city has only a handful of late colonial constructions around the Plaza de Mayo.

Argentina’s finest colonial art and architecture survives in the northwest, on an axis that runs south from Jujuy and Salta through Tucumán and Córdoba. Contrasting with Mesopotamia’s verdant subtropical vegetation, bright red sandstone blocks distinguish Mesopotamia’s colonial Jesuit missions; indigenous Guaraní artisans crafted the elaborate adornments.

Since the mid-17th century, when the Jesuits established themselves on the block bounded by the present-day streets of Bolívar, Moreno, Perú, and Alsina, Monserrat has been a hub of intellectual life. While the Jesuits were the most intellectual of all monastic orders, they were also the most commercial—the two surviving buildings of the Procuraduría, fronting on Alsina, stored products from their widespread missions, housed missionized Indians from the provinces, and contained defensive tunnels.

Immediately across the Paraná from Posadas via the international bridge, the Paraguayan city of Encarnación barely merits a visit in its own right (though it’s morbidly fascinating to see Yacyretá rising waters slowly submerge its historic downtown). It’s well worth crossing the border, though, to see the nearby Paraguayan Jesuit missions of Trinidad and Jesús de Tavarangue.

Both Trinidad and Jesús were relative latecomers in the Jesuit empire—Jesús, in fact, was still under construction when Carlos III expelled the Jesuits in 1767. Trinidad dates from 1706, but took more than five decades to reach its completion in 1760—only seven years before the Jesuits’ departure.

From Posadas, undulating RN 12 climbs and dips northeast over leached red earth past several Jesuit mission ruins, the best-preserved of which is San Ignacio Miní. Though less well-preserved, Santa Ana and Loreto both have their assets, but progress in restoration has slowed since the end of support from the Italian and German governments. Both are national historical monuments.

In terms of preservation, including the architectural and sculptural details that typify “Guaraní baroque,” San Ignacio Miní may be the best surviving example of the 30 missions built by the Jesuits in a territory that now comprises parts of Argentina, Brazil, and Paraguay. It’s a tourist favorite for its accessibility in the midst of the present-day village of San Ignacio.

One exception to Río Grande’s lack of historic sites is the Salesian mission (RN 3 Km 2980, tel. 02964/421642, www.misionrg.com.ar), founded by the order to catechize the Selkn’am; after the aboriginals died out from unintentionally introduced diseases and intentional slaughter, the fathers turned their attention to educating rural youth in their boarding school.

The road may be paved and fuel much easier to come by than in the early days of peninsular travel, but Baja California remains a classic route for travelers who enjoy the thrill of a long road trip. All you need is ample time, a reliable vehicle, and an ability to cope with unpredictable situations.

Dominican padres established the last and shortest-lived of the Baja California missionary efforts, Misión Guadalupe, west of the current village in 1834.

In 1836, the mission was successfully defended against an attack by 400 Yumanos; four years later a much smaller force, led by a Neji Amerindian baptized at the mission, chased away the last Dominican padre.

The remains of the mission were incorporated into other buildings and are now difficult to identify.

Getting There

The Valle de Guadalupe is less than a two hour drive (70 mi) south of San Diego on the toll road from Tijuana to Ensenada.

The Valle de Santo Tomás, left by the Río Santo Tomás, is one of Baja’s prime agricultural regions and a visual highlight of any transpeninsular journey. Winding up, down, and around olive-green hills, the highway repeatedly suspends drivers over vignettes of tidy olive groves, vineyards, fields of flowers, and the occasional herd of goats.

For some visitors, a day’s stopover turns into weeks, perhaps because Santo Tomás offers the ambience of California’s Sonoma or Napa valleys without the tourists and high prices. The valley community of around 1,500 is friendly and welcoming.