8/28/05 – Sunday 11:30 AM
Barrael, Argentina
After three days of being couped up in this mountain paradise due to bad weather, in a `town that never has bad weather,´ I´m going a bit stir-crazy. My time has come to return to Buenos Aires, to civilization, the urban life... the life that I know.
The lower-lying clouds have lifted somewhat and I can see past the rosey-colored mountains that border Chile to the East, freshly covered in a light dusting of new snow, a brief but fleeting glimpse of sunlight. Spring is but three weeks away and with stories of a valley covered in flowers and trees turning green once again I ponder... how much more beautiful can this place get?
They say that there is gold in them thar hills which have yet to be explored – meaning exploited. “The miners are coming though,” comments Perla with a look of disdain in her eyes. “But more precious than the gold is the water.”
One day I shall return to this fertile valley of grapes and garlic and some of the friendliest and most laid back people on this earth. Dreams of the medicinal springs and of flying high above the Andes... and of the gold, are freshly planted in my memory, knowing that one day I shall return.
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