Next destination: Meliquina Lake

by Valentina Barone (Argentina)

A leap into the unknown Argentina

Growing up with two wanderlust spirits as parents, road trips were pretty much an annual event throughout my childhood and my teens. I was used to being dragged around the country in my parents' car, driving without a clear destination and stopping whenever we found a place we liked. I didn't think they could surprise me anymore. They proved me wrong when in January 2014 they told me we were going on a road trip to the Patagonia, the southernmost region in Argentina. The last time I'd been there had been three years before and I'd loved it, so I got very excited about the idea. The first half of our 21 days long trip we stayed in the La Angostura village. So far, the trip was very similar to our last one - visiting the touristic spots, hiking through the Patagonian woods and eating wild berries. But the second part of the journey really put my character to the test. Next destination: Meliquina Lake. Meliquina Lake is a small village in which only thirty people live. There is no internet, no cellphone signal, and most houses don't even have electricity. My parents hadn't told me any of that because, if I'm being honest, as much as I loved those trips I was also a moody teenager. When we got there and I saw the cabin we'd be staying in I almost cried. We had no running water and the only source of electricity was a generator that we were only allowed to use three hours a day. We arrived late at night so there wasn't much time for me to complain before we went to bed, but my mind was set - I hated that place. The next day I woke up late. My parents had driven to the nearest town a few hours earlier to get some groceries and were having breakfast outside. As much as I hated to admit it, the place looked pretty nice in the daylight. My mother had heated water to make mate with a camping stove she'd found and I joined them, feeling a lot more positive than the night before. I asked my parents if they had something planned for the day. My dad said we were going to explore the place and maybe go fishing at the lake. He said he was going to catch a trout for dinner. "How?" I asked. "You don't even have a fishing rod." He just grinned at me and pointed at a sugar cane that was laying next to the outdoor table. He'd picked it up while going shopping in the morning. He said he'd bought a fishing line and he was going to make a rod himself. I just laughed at him, but I knew he meant it. He spent the rest of the morning working on that, and tried his homemade fishing rod that same afternoon. Needless to say, he wasn't successful, but he kept himself busy for hours while my mom and I walked around the lake. By the end of the day I was starting to grow fond of the village. It only took a few days for us to develop a routine. We would wake up early, have breakfast outside and then drive to the touristic spot we wanted to visit that day - usually a museum or a state park. Afterwards, we'd buy something for lunch and go back to the cabin. In the afternoon, my father would go fishing, always coming back empty handed. Sometimes my mom and I would go with him and play cards on the shore, but more often than not we'd use that time to go hiking. It was very easy to get lost there, since there were no streetlights and almost no people around, so we always tried to come back before sunset. I can safely say we only crossed paths with other hikers once. After dinner, since we couldn't watch TV, we would play cards before going to bed. I can't say I've ever been to a place that changed my perspective more than Lake Meliquina. It took me a while to get used to it, but I'm glad I gave it a chance.