there is a saying that adventure travel is only adventurous after the fact. during the trip it is more like a day-long pain in the butt. sometimes fly fishing is like that. it is not until the last rays of the sun (or later for those madison river evenings) slip away that the day starts to become fishing stories. gathered with friends around a table of food and drink the eats become more epic, the flies smaller, the wind louder, the misses more painful and the mistakes become more hilarious. it is here in this moment that the memories are cast. and it is here in this place, at this time that you need a cold one, a fried one and one on a bun. or something like that. Follow my blog with bloglovin

La Despensa

Never had a better empanada
Lower Limay. Cross the foot bridge. Walk till you come to a fisherman's ladder. Look left. Order homemade empanadas and Quilmes. Watch chickens. See goats. Scratch dog's ear. Repeat.

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