Returning to South America

A conversation about the joys of returning to a much-loved destination was a lightbulb moment for Jessie Brechin-Leman. An epic honeymoon took shape, the journey taking her from Buenos Aires, through Argentine and Chilean Patagonia, to finish in the wine country near Santiago.

Words: JESSIE BRECHIN-LEMAN

I’ve had the privilege of visiting some incredible places. Places that make your heart stutter and imprint themselves on your mind. I’ve explored many unsung destinations and been marked by many firsts but, until recently, I resisted the idea of ‘returning’ somewhere. With so much to experience, I didn’t see the value in going back.

Yet when I revisited India with my now husband, Sven, I was blown away at the joy I found. Not only unearthing sites and sounds that had slipped below the surface of my memory, but in sharing them with him.

No matter where we go, we are touched by the places we visit, the people we meet and the things we experience. Returning with your loved ones makes these memories all the sweeter, as you share a once-private piece of your soul.

When it came to planning our honeymoon this year, we found the perfect destinations in Argentina and Chile.

Buenos Aires

In 2010, as a student, I lived in Buenos Aires. I’ve long credited this year, full of adventures, highs and lows, as being the foundation of my love for travel and insatiable interest in the world.

Our time in Buenos Aires is a whirlwind of the best kind. I reacquaint myself with the city I once called home, dragging my husband to key sites such as ‘the front door of my old building’ and ‘my old local supermarket’.

In some areas nothing appears changed, but the signs of time passing are everywhere. My local butcher has been replaced with a fruit and veg shop and the run-down area next to the railway line is now a beautiful park. San Telmo market now features artisanal dulce de leche alongside the antiques. The bright walls of Caminito are shining proudly, a far cry from their state over a decade ago.

Travel often exists in a vacuum. The locations we visit live on in our memories as static; as film sets for the stories we tell. But when you revisit a destination, you’re inevitably confronted with the fact that everywhere in the world experiences time in the same way. I didn’t just live in Buenos Aires: I lived in the Buenos Aires of 13 years ago. The Buenos Aires of today has evolved in much the same way that I have over the interceding decade and a half.

We rediscover the city with the help of a crack team of guides. They take us through the history of Buenos Aires as I find myself caught between excavating dim memories and being thoroughly fascinated by new discoveries. Sven is a historian by education and dug far deeper than I ever had into the whys of this beautiful city.

We also explore the food scene that makes Porteños so proud. With a huge history of immigration, many of the typical foods in Buenos Aires reflect different cultures, with the Italian influence particularly strong. Sven was delighted to be introduced to the majestic choripan. A spiced pork and beef sausage on a baguette with chimichurri sauce, this is a staple of the Buenos Aires food scene and has a fond place in my memories as an excellent postnight-out snack. At Pizzería Güerrin, where the fires of the vast stone oven have burned consistently since 1932, Sven was further thrilled to learn that in Buenos Aires, a single pizza might be topped with a whole pound of mozzarella. An asado experience rounds out our feast as we learn how to grill the different cuts of meat that form the centrepoint of this cultural phenomenon.

We learn a few basics of tango in a private class, and enjoy an evening in a milonga even if neither of us is likely to grace a dance floor in the near future. One of my highlights is the street art tour – a look at the city through the lens of artistic expression in different neighbourhoods. The colour and vibrancy of this scene has developed enormously over the past decade. I love seeing some murals that are familiar to me now accompanied by newer artists, who are sharing stories of more recent history – Messi now joining Maradona in his mythological status.

Argentine Patagonia

As soon as we land in Patagonia, it’s clear to us, both Scottish, why many of the first non-native settlers were from our country. The vast landscapes are eerily and beautifully familiar; rugged, shaped by glaciers and splintered by rivers running as far as the eye can see. It’s Scotland on a grand scale, and it feels like home.

Starting in El Calafate, which didn’t even have an airport last time I was in the country, we set out to see the highlights of Argentine Patagonia. Our first full day is spent at the Perito Moreno glacier where we watch huge shards of ice collapsing from the face and into the lake below. After crossing by boat, we don crampons to hike on the glacier itself.

We follow our guide across the compacted ice as he expertly steers us past cracks and pools almost invisible to the untrained eye. The further we go, the larger the glacier seems to become, and the more vivid the colours. As the finale to our excursion, we climb down to a tunnel, painstakingly formed by streams of meltwater boring their way through the mass of ice. The compacted crystals create a blue unlike anything I’ve ever seen in the natural world, shining like neon in the sun.

Our day at Estancia Cristina starts a little less hopefully. This huge ranch was founded over a century ago and is accessible by a catamaran that takes a couple of hours to cross the chilly waters of Lago Argentino. The wind has picked up and brought the clouds down to meet the lake. As we sail up towards the Upsala glacier and cruise past the immense icebergs that dot the channel, the snow lashes the windows and a day of horse riding looks increasingly miserable.

But the weather is on our side. Much like in Scotland, it can turn in an instant. By the time we disembark to meet our guide, Vicente, the sun has made itself known.

Estancia Cristina earns its description as remote. In the winter months, the horses roam freely on the land. They’re beautiful creatures, blending into the yellows and browns of the landscape and completely unbothered by the battering wind. We trek towards the mountains, a two-hour journey through a stunning valley accompanied only by the occasional sight of a hare, more horses or the circling condors.

A small refuge hut at the edge of Lago Anita provides a welcome sanctuary from the sunny but blusterous ride. One of the Estancia’s gauchos has ridden ahead: the log fire is burning and there is an even-morewelcome spread of meat, cheese and Malbec to greet us. As we warm up, lunch is prepared: flat iron steak sandwiches followed by a dessert of vigilante – cheese topped with sweet potato jelly. The description gives us pause but emboldened by the wine, cautious nibbles soon become enthusiastic bites.

Isolated in this hut in the middle of nowhere we exchange stories and cultures with our guides. We share mate and my husband is horrified to discover the number of tiny rules associated with drinking this most Argentine of drinks. Vicente fills the mate with leaves and adds hot water from his flask (an omnipresent accessory). We pass the vessel and sequentially take our sip, remembering not to say thank you unless we’re completely finished, and absolutely not to move the straw.

If the food and drink took the chill from our extremities, then arriving in Eolo and stepping into the embrace of the lodge warmed our souls. Valentin, the long-serving manager, makes us feel right at home. The start of the season sees a lot of the staff returning, including the local chef who creates some of the most delicious meals we have all trip. Local lamb melts in the mouth and the fresh raviolis are the best I’ve had outside of Italy. Whisky from the antique English bar is the final touch to an unforgettable stay.

Compared to El Calafate, El Chaltén is far quieter. The visitors here are all present for the same reason as us: Fitz Roy. The peaks loom into view from the road hours before we reach the town and we stop for the obligatory photo.

The next morning we set out with our guide, Fede, to hike up to Laguna de Los Tres, in the shadow of the towers above. As it’s early in the season and there has been late snowfall the last mile ascent to the Laguna is one for crampons and poles – kit which seemed like overkill at the start of the trail but for which we are immensely grateful. Crunching through the snow and ice to the top is a slog but well worth it for the view of the lake, frozen and covered in pristine snow. It’s a view for a well-earned packed lunch, eaten under the watchful eyes of the bold caracaras, hoping for errant crumbs.

We spend our days in El Chaltén hiking with Fede and learning about the area and its history, comparing the challenges of the area with our experiences in the Dolomites and Alps. Sven and Fede share common ground with their love of mountains, climbing and the stories of first ascents. I have never learnt more than I do on those treks.

What El Chaltén lacks in infrastructure it makes up for with heart. We find a favourite dinner spot in La Tapera, our active days excusing any excess of steak consumed. By the time we leave to transfer to Chile we are full of plans to return, multi-day hikes on our future menu.

Chilean Patagonia

The long drives between locations in Patagonia serve as a reminder of the immense challenges that humans faced to create lives here. The bright red shrines to Gaucho Gil are often the only interruption to miles and miles of deserted road.

By the time we reach the border, the only word for it is desolate. The crossing at Rio Don Guillermo is, I’m convinced, the windiest border in the world. Even the police dogs show no inclination to leave their kennels.

After this battering by the elements it is a relief to head towards Torres del Paine national park and Awasi Patagonia. Each ‘room’ here is an individual cabin and comes complete with your own guide for the duration of your stay. Our guide, Tere, is knowledgeable and enthusiastic, and more than able to keep up with our incessant questions and observations.

In true Patagonian style the weather is challenging and changeable. Beautiful views of the Torres themselves greet us as we drive to the lodge, stick around as we enjoy a charcuterie board and glass of wine, but vanish by the time we’re dining in the restaurant. We won’t see them again on this trip.

With longer hikes off the table due to the weather, Tere works with us to put together a plan. We pack in blustery walks and scenic drives as well as a massage to knead out the weather before dinners with wine pairings from the resident sommelier.

The highlight comes on our second day. We get an early start, leaving the only (human) footprints in the fresh snow to head puma spotting in the national park. Within the hour we find success. A beautiful female cat has taken down a guanaco and is beginning to hide the carcass from the watchful scavengers circling above. At this time in the morning, we’re all but alone at the sighting.

Reality is beginning to loom at the end of our trip and we fly north to finish our trip in the wine region, relaxing in the opulence of Vik – a truly fascinating winery hotel with beautiful panoramic views and art-filled rooms. They each have their own personality and unique names to match. We stay in one of the exclusive glass bungalows, ‘Shape of Women’, complete with sculptures of the female form. Other rooms celebrate Japanese simplicity, holograms and even Hérmes.

The change of pace allows us to reflect on everything we’ve seen and done. For me, Argentina now has a second, equally significant story in my life. In Patagonia, Sven has found a part of the world that has embedded itself in his soul.

Far from thinking about our next destination, in the way we might usually, we find ourselves imagining returning to share these places with others. Going back might just be the best way to travel after all.