A few more days in Argentina

I have always been fascinated by maps. As a child, I would spend hours paging through my first world atlas; a book with a glossy, light blue, hardback cover whose spine weakened with each enthusiastic read. Occasionally, with a pen in my unsteady young hand, I would trace the borders between countries whose names I…

A few days in Argentina

There is a taxi driver in southern Argentina named Ernesto. We didn’t know each other until a few days ago and we will never meet again. We met when chance placed us in his taxi at El Calafate airport. On the drive into town he politely asked us to share the contents of his small…