The Andes

At 7:30 am this past Saturday morning, the phone in my hotel rang. I forgot to set the alarm to wake up for the 13 hour excursion into the Andes Mountains, and the van was outside waiting for me. I asked for five minutes and rushed to brush my teeth, change into warm clothes (forgetting my gloves) and ran downstairs to meet the tour guide. Five minutes turned into 15 and by the time I got downstairs, the van left to pick up other guests at different hotels and would return to pick me up in 15 more minutes, giving me time to have a coffee and light breakfast.

The first 1-2 hours of the journey were relatively boring. We passed a lot of bodegas and the mountains started getting taller and taller, but no snow was to be seen. After two hours, we stopped at a roadside stand where the tour guide told us we should consider renting snow boots, so we all blindly did. After a few minutes to stretch our legs, have a snack and take some photos, we hopped back into the van and one of the young women (another American) asked if I would switch seats with her so she could sit with her boyfriend. I did, but regretted it because I was squeezed between the driver and the guide up front. At the next stop, a very nice Argentine girl told me she would sit up from because she was shorter. We ended up becoming good friends by the end of the trip and she and her sister were on my flight back to Buenos Aires. We exchanged phone numbers and emails and I'm sure we will be staying in touch, as they both like to travel around South America as much as I do.

Another hour into the trip, we arrived at an old stone bridge at the Picheuta River - this bridge played a large role in the passage between Chile and Argentina. Shortly after, we began seeing snow on the peaks and we passed through small towns including Polvaredas, Punta de Vacas, and Los Penitetes. Here, we bought a ticket to take a ski lift up to the top of the mountain where, after trekking in two feet of snow, we had incredible views of the Andes Mountains surrounding us (this was the point that I began regretting haven forgotten my gloves in the hotel room). The view reminded me much of my younger days skiing in Chamonix Mont Blanc in the French Alps. The skies were cloudy and it was snowing but we were still able to get a glimps of Mount Aconcagua. At almost 23,000 feet, this is the highest mountain in North and South America.

On the way back to Buenos Aires, after a long day, we made a final stop at Puente del Inca, where there was a natural hot spring and bridge, making for an excellent photo op. I plan on going back to Mendoza in the summer (February) to watch the wine making process in full bloom and possibly hike Mount Aconcagua (a seven-day excursion).