We are almost in the middle of November and the weather gets colder as days go by here in the US. Winter is coming to the North Hemisphere and, with it, the harsh weather conditions. The dark and cloudy sky looks quite the opposite of Mendoza’s blue and bright sky.
In my home in the South Hemisphere, conversely, spring has become the protagonist and anticipates a warm summer. This time of the year always reminds me of the weekend I spent with my family in El Manzano Histórico (“The Historic Apple Tree”), in Tunuyán. Just a quick fact: the place is called like that because San Martín is believed to have rested in an apple tree there after coming back from his military campaign in Chile.
I vividly remember that weekend. On Saturday morning, we got up early. My mom boiled water and prepared alfajores to eat during the car drive. My brother and I were worried trying not to forget anything (Actually the soccer ball and our swimming suits were the main concern; we could live without the rest.) My dad checked the route and looked at the pictures of the cabin he had rented in Valle Sol y Nieve neighborhood in Tunuyán. He looked nervous, as he always does when we are about to go on a trip. When everything was ready, late as usual, we left our home back and started the exciting journey ahead.
After an hour of driving, the landscape became more and more beautiful. The evergreen trees growing at the foot of the mountain and the creeks running next to the road, untiring and always crystal clear, anticipated the unforgettable moments we were about to experience.
Finally, after almost two hours, we got to our destination. The magnificent cross with Christ watching the whole landscape was the landmark that confirmed our arrival.
We drove through a camp and after a mile we were in our cabin. It looked small in the immensity of the scenery, but perfectly cozy and welcoming at the same time, like a small refuge in the middle of the vegetation.
We unpack everything quickly, put our swimming suits on, and walked to the river nearby.
The day could not be more beautiful. After strolling for a while, we found a perfect spot in the shadow of a willow tree.
I sat on a big rock and put my feet in the water. Wow! It felt cold! Anyways, after dipping my feet two or three times (And thanks to the temperature that was rising more and more), I finally got used to the chill but crystal-clear water. Its sound as it hit the stones on the bed of the river was stunning. I could sit there the whole day, my gaze lost in the strength and intensity of the stream.
There was only one thing that could awake me of that trance: it was the smell of asado. My father was grilling next to the river a dish fit for the gods. I bet that just looking at it will make you hungry. Do you want to see?
After lunch, we played cards with my family and had a short siesta to recover energy. Later, we decided to return to the cottage. The drive back home was even more beautiful now that the sun was going away.
Once in the cabin, I took a shower and sat outside to play the guitar. The silent night was the only audience. The stars shined in the dark heaven. Thanks Mendoza for coming back to my mind and make me feel I am alive once again.