Come Away With Me...

A month in Argentina

Happy new year! With the apocalyptic fires in LA and the looming inauguration, I am finding myself scrolling the news on my phone more than usual under the guise of “keeping myself informed.” It’s making me feel anxious and helpless. Today- I’m offering you an antidote, a respite to the doom scrolling, even if only for a few minutes.

Disappear into what I am bashfully calling “travel porn.” We’ve been on the road in Argentina with Isaac’s parents for almost a month. Of course, there have been ups and downs- trips to the pharmacy, crappy hotels, bad moods, lingering coughs, wrong turns, disappointing meals, etc. But that is not what this is about. What I’m offering you is an extremely curated glimpse into what has been a trek through some of the most beautiful places in the world. Come away with me…

A Rooftop in Buenos Aires

The air is a perfect 73 degrees. There’s no humidity and no mosquitos. The pool is too cold to swim, but I dip my toes in it anyway. Below me, Buenos Aires stretches on and on. This is the first day of our trip.

A Dinner

The meat in Argentina is abundant. 10 kinds of steak, sausage, chicken, pork, lamb, even guanaco. All grilled over a wood fire on a parrilla (pronounced pa-ree-sha). I’m usually not one for chicken, but it is surprisingly flavorful and juicy. I slather it in lemon and chimichurri. The perfect bite includes some arugula salad and a french fry.

A Winery in Mendoza

The summer days here are hot and dry. The world’s 2nd largest mountain, Aconcagua, is dusted with snow and peeks through the clouds in the mornings. We drink Malbec every day. We lunch at an organic winery and Isaac’s dad says, “I’ve never done anything like this in my life.” I think he means it in a good way. We visit another winery and learn about their sustainable farming practices. We meet an old, old vintner who speaks no English and whose pours are abundant. At night, we sit beside the pool, watching the rain and telling stories into the night.

A Sailboat in Lake Bariloche

Pablo and his daughter Lorna invite us aboard. They have the worn hands and tanned skin of actual sailors and expertly tell us where to step and sit. They share stories about living in Bariloche and about the indigenous people here. I sit, mostly quiet, staring out at the clear water alongside the boat, the bands of turquoise, and the deep navy blues out on the horizon. The breeze on my neck and Isaac’s hand on my back are perfect. I am so lucky.

A Kayak in Lago Gutierrez

I sit in the front of a kayak for two, taking selfies and dipping my toes in the cold water. Isaac’s mom speeds out ahead of us. We spot a yellow tree across the lake and make it our goal to paddle out to it. The wind picks up and we turn back, bobbing in the waves. After, churros stuffed with dulce de leche.

A Glacier

The colors of the Perito Moreno glacier are out of a video game. Something fake. Food coloring blue. Dawn dish soap blue. How can it be real? The sound of a glacier cracking is monstrous. A deep guttural groan that you feel inside yourself. There are big sounds with nothing to see. There are big sounds with house-sized chunks of ice falling into the lake- a glacier becomes an iceberg. I stare at this thing and can’t understand it. I can’t comprehend its size (97 square miles), it’s existence (formed 2.6 million years ago). I just take pictures to try to capture it- but that’s impossible too. I keep exclaiming, “Look at this thing!” as if other people are not. They are. We all are.