On the way to my apartment, illuminated European-like
buildings and monuments decorated my view. Teenagers dressed in skinny jeans
paraded through the streets. An old couple shared a pizza at an outdoor café.
At a stoplight, I nervously smiled as my eyes met those of a handsome man in
the taxi next to me. He was singing “Isn’t She Lovely.”
It was all so magical—like something out of a movie. And
everything I was hoping for after spending the last couple of weeks in
Patagonia.
Sure, Patagonia had been nice. I had pedaled through
national parks in the Lake District, traveled two days on Argentina’s famous
Ruta 40, and even hiked a glacier. But something had been missing.
I knew there was a chance I’d get homesick over the
holidays, but I reassured myself that I’d make friends. I apologized to my
family for missing yet another Christmas at home. They understood my need for
adventure.
 |
| At Cerro Fitz Roy on Christmas |
I ended up spending Christmas in the small town of El
Chaltén with a couple from Australia. They had just gotten engaged and were
doing a little stint around the world before tying the knot. We spent the day
hiking to the Fitz Roy Mountain, then joined a British couple, a German girl, a
French guy and a Dutch woman for dinner at a local parilla.
Over Patagonian lamb and liters of wine, we told stories of
our travels and offered advice for future excursions. Everyone spoke in
different accents, but we all shared the same love for adventure.
Normally, this would’ve been just the sort of holiday
experience I would've hoped for. But even after countless glasses of wine and lots
of laughter, I crawled into my bunk bed that night and dreamt of my friends and
family in Florida.
***
 |
| A couple dancing tango in San Telmo |
I’ve wanted to visit Buenos Aires ever since my parents went
in 2004. They had come back from their trip with beautiful pictures of
crumbling buildings, cobblestone streets and couples dancing tango. They had
described the beef and wine in such detail that my mouth still waters nearly 10
years later just thinking about it.
I had a similar experience (although for about twice as much
as they spent, due to inflation). I was charmed by the sidewalk cafes, the
grandiose cemeteries, San Telmo’s Sunday antique market. The live music playing
on street corners begged me to spend afternoons dancing and drinking beer
instead of sightseeing. Even catcalls from men, usually vulgar and offensive,
seemed endearing.
But it wasn’t just being in the city that turned me from a
lonely woman in Patagonia to a thriving romantic in Buenos Aires. The day after
I arrived was New Years Eve, and I had been invited to spend it with an
Argentinean family.
I had no idea what to expect. I didn’t actually know any
member of the family, and had met the organizer of the event, Laura, over
email. But since we shared a mutual friend, Laura said I was already a friend.
She said she would pick me up at my apartment at 10 pm and we would have dinner
at her uncle’s house.
When we met in person, Laura threw her arms around me and
kissed me on the cheek. She introduced me to her brother Sergio, who was
driving, then started firing questions. “How was Patagonia? Did you love it?
Did you see the Perito Moreno Glacier? Do you speak any Spanish?” She was like
a little Energizer bunny—so energetic and full of life. I loved her
immediately.
When we got to Laura’s uncle’s house, I was greeted with
kisses from about 20 family members. They all introduced themselves and told me
how beautiful I was in Spanish. They were happy I could join them for such an
important holiday.
 |
| With Laura, Sergio and a few other family members on New Years |
The night was spent eating, dancing, drinking and singing
karaoke. I watched Laura’s grandparents dance tango, and her brother Sergio
belt out tunes by Swedish pop band ABBA. When the clock struck twelve, we rushed outside to
watch fireworks. Everyone hugged, kissed, and toasted to a great new year.
At 5am, when it was finally time to say goodbye, I did my
best to convey, in Spanish, how lucky I felt to be a part of the family
celebration. Each of them took turns embracing me before Laura said, on behalf
of everyone, “Don’t thank us. You’re family now.”
I got home that morning and emailed my parents. I told them
about my night and about the new friendships I made. I also told them that, at
30, I finally got it: I can travel the world and see amazing things, but it
doesn’t mean anything if I’m not sharing it with people I love.
