My Semester Abroad

"Perhaps one day, tired of circling the world, I'll return to Argentina and settle in the Andean Lakes..." — Ernest "Che" Guevara, "The Motorcycle Diaries"

I cannot help but say that I feel the same way. This country is magical, and the Argentine Lake District beyond description. The best way to see this area, Ruta de los 7 lagos, is in a rented car, so my mother and I set off Saturday morning with the sun chasing us down the road. Around every turn was another breathtaking lake or valley, all in the shadows of the Andes mountains and the Chilean border. We crossed Rio Corrientoso, the shortest river in the world (!), passed dilapidated wooden bridges and stopped more than 50 times for pictures.

Our tour of the seven lakes ended Saturday night in San Martín de los Andes. The day that followed, Palm Sunday, was one of the strangest days of traveling we have had. We started on a bike trip to my new favorite brewery, in a factory in a neighboring village. The supposedly "no tan lejos" (not very far) journey ended up being "tan lejos," up a mountain, and on a busy road filled with trucks and large buses. The final straw on the outward journey was my asking a drunk man, also on bicycle, how far it was to the next town, he gladly said he would show us ; we quickly headed back down the mountain.

At dinner at a lovely lakeside restaurant I had "Waffles Patagónico" ... Patagonian Waffles?!? What arrived was a sort of waffle sandwich with a chicken salad in between. Ordering food in other countries is always an adventure, but rarely this much of an adventure. After dinner we went to the mirador, or lookout, over the town of San Martín de los Andes as well as Lago Lacar, the lake it sits on. We arrived just in time for sunset, it was perfect.

We finished off the evening at a rock concert, we had no idea what we were in for. Los trillizas de Belville, a band who named themselves after the movie "The Triplets of Belville," was comprised of six men from San Martín de los Andes, all past their prime, rocking out to their hometown crowd. My mom had the privilege of sitting next to a boy in his early teens who happened to be their biggest groupie. This kid was singing louder than the three women who were singing backup with microphones. We had to try not to laugh too loud; we didn´t want him to hear us... Phew.

I just said good-bye to my Momma and am now in El Bolsón heading to Bariloche in a few days to have my own adventures for my Easter Break.