Estancia

After a couple days in Buenos Aires I took an overnight bus south, into the northern fringe of Patagonia. From getting off the first bus, I switched to a bus beefed up enough to handle three hours north on a road that would have destroyed my Civic. I got off in a tiny town at a one room, stone wall tin roof bus station. I was picked up there, and continued on horseback for an evening and morning until I arrived at the estancia. I spent the next couple weeks immersed with gauchos, eating goat and onions, managing horses, herding cattle, and drinking their only drinks, mate and boxed wine. I dug right in.

Making bread from stratch.

Herding horses.

Camping under the southern stars.

Surviving the Andes.