At the moment my nights are spent organising, planning and booking our next Globetrotting guided ride to Chile and Argentina at the end of the year. I’m brushing up on my Spanish, thanks to a wonderful collection of podcasts by Notes In Spanish. Granted it’s Spanish from Spain rather than Castellano Rioplatense, which is subtly different and spoken in Argentina – nonetheless its good practise. But more on language learning in another post.
In mid-December we’ll be spending ten days at one of my most treasured places in the world (which I only share with special people). It’s an estancia hidden in Argentina’s Patagonia, that sprawls across 100,000 acres and lies beyond all roads – literally. When we arrive at the property in mid-December all of our luggage will be strapped and secured onto pack horses and we’ll ride into the homestead. There are no roads, therefore no vehicle access.
Back in 2006, I stumbled across this estancia thanks to an English friend, and spent four months living and breathing estancia life. It was at a time in my life where I had lost direction. I had run away from home abandoning my comfortable life in Australia, including my business, mortgage, boyfriend, dog and everything I thought I wanted and needed. I often refer to that time in my life as my quarter-life crisis where I spent 9 months travelling.
This vast estancia with no mobile coverage, internet, or electricity was the perfect landing pad for me to breathe, write, ride and photograph. I can’t wait to return and experience it again with my husband (whom I left in Australia back in 2006), my baby daughter, Finn and our G.T guests. I still vividly remember my time there. Every morning I would help muster the horses in from the top paddock before working alongside the gauchos or helping educate green horses.
The days were simple, exhausting and rewarding, leaving you covered in dust and dirt and feeling completely satisfied. I have such fond memories of standing on my horse’s rump to pluck wild, sugary plums from hard to reach branches to swimming butt-naked in the crystal clear river that runs wild around the Casa Grande.
At night perched in front of a blazing fire knitting a vest out of the wool that I had learnt to spin to sleeping out under a glorious night sky pinpricked with stars while my horse munched on grass beside me.
A simple life where washing is hung to dry, bread is made by hand, eggs are plucked warm from roosting hens and horses are a part of everyday life.
No mobile coverage, no internet, an estancia where there is ample of space to lose yourself or find yourself depending on what you’re looking for. An estancia where the horse is still king and simple pleasures are enjoyed. There are still spots available on this guided group ride, if you’re interested.