Over summer our family of three has resembled a travelling circus, tripping to South America for six weeks. Five years ago, I fell in love with a particular Argentinean estancia and I was determined to return to show Buster and our baby girl, Finn. It’s hidden within the depths of Patagonia, shadowed by the Andes mountain range.
The only access to the property is a three-hour horse ride with a team of pack mules, as it lies beyond all roads. Once you arrive, there is no internet, mobile reception, television and only limited electricity. We were unplugged from the outside world for 10 glorious days.
It’s a slow-moving place where time is sweet and plentiful; a place where you have time to wait for bread to rise, pluck wild cherries to make a pie, and to sit patiently for tea to brew. A horse is your only mode of transport.
I’m so thankful for the time spent there now I’ve joined the dizzying, guilt-ridden world of a working mother. Time escapes me now. The other day I got dressed by plucking clothes off my clothes line before racing out the door.
I now try and count the special moments in a day rather than the minutes and hours. Shared moments like watching the wonder on Finn’s face as an insect creeps up a window or whispering into the crook of her neck until laughter tears trickle down her cheeks. These are the moments I’m chasing.
I would love to know how you unplug from the outside world?