NOWHERE’S LAND or Close to it: After 35 hours of travel Finca TUNDUQUERAL (part two): Learning that Nothing Is Everything in Six Weeks


Uspallata, Argentina – a park bench, January 15th, 2016

Renato, an Italian friend and founder of the place we were headed, picked us up at El Plumerillo Airport in Mendoza, Argentina. Excited and extremely tired we loaded our two small suitcases Resultado de imagen para road mendoza uspallata(filled with minimal clothing, sandals and flipflops, some books and toiletries), a large backpack (containing four, old sleeping bags and a couple of towels), and my yoga bag into the back of his pickup truck. Andrea in the front seat, the girls and I in the back. Renato and Andrea spoke, Kenia listened, Havana fell fast asleep across my lap and I remained silent as the city turned into highway, the highway turned into paved road, the pavement turned into dirt and the green landscape faded into raw rock…

I remained silent as mountains began to grow from the flat desert below – high into the deep, blue sky. We pResultado de imagen para road mendoza uspallataassed small, turquoise colored lakes, a wild and muddy river and lots of land as we made our way closer and closer to Uspallata, a small town located in mid-Northern Argentina between the Andean Mountains and the Precordillera (the lower mountain range before the Andes Mountains)….  I remained silent as I observed the view outside the dusty backseat window – a view similar to the scene of the Old West in one of those cowboy movies Andrea loves to watch now and then.

After about 40 minutes into a ride that appeared to be heading towards another place in time, we turned. All it took was a single curve…

Resultado de imagen para tunduqueral green village

one bend of this unpaved road to bring us face-to-face with a green valley that seemed to be painted with watercolors in the sky… an image too massive and beautiful to be real opened up before our droopy, but curious eyes. Renato’s white, pickup truck was bringing us towards the place we would call home for the next six weeks (perhaps longer in the future); a dirty, white pickup truck alone on a wide, dirt road and embraced by snowcapped mountains that hovered over us from 3,500-4,000 miles…

nowhere’s land or close to it. Andrea and Renato spoke. Kenia listened. Havana rubbed her sleepy eyes and wiped away the sweat from her reddened cheek. I remained silent with a feeling of excitement and anxiousness in my stomach as (after over 35 hours of travel) we finally approached a make shift wooden gate DSCN0073and a wooden sign with the words FINCA TUNDUQUERAL  engraved on it…





Thanks once again for sharing!

We would love to hear your ideas and comments!

Until next time with love and gratitude,

firma danni

To read part one of this journey go to:

To follow this journey to nowhere go to, insert your email on the righthand side and click FOLLOW.


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