Mendoza, Argentina
Mendoza is Argentina’s wine country, and it knows it. Tree-lined streets, outdoor cafes, and a general atmosphere that says “sit down, relax, have a Malbec.” We checked in and did the usual settling-in routine — walked around, found the gym, got our bearings. That first night we ate at Florentino Bistro and it was a brilliant meal. One of those dinners where everything on the plate is exactly right and you leave wondering why you ever eat anywhere else.
But the undisputed highlight of Mendoza — and honestly one of the best days of the whole trip — was Mr. Hugo’s wine tour on bikes. The concept is simple: you hire bikes, they give you a map of wineries, and off you go. In practice, it’s a group of backpackers cycling between vineyards in the Argentine sun, sampling wine at every stop, and gradually losing the ability to ride in a straight line. I went with the Aussie boys and Andrea, and things got messy. The good kind of messy. The kind where you’re tasting your fourth Malbec of the afternoon and someone suggests we should probably eat something, and then you taste another Malbec instead.
By the end of the tour we were sunburnt, well lubricated, and had somehow made it back to the bike shop without any major incidents. The fact that they let slightly tipsy tourists cycle on public roads between wineries is either a testament to Argentine trust or a lawsuit waiting to happen. Either way, it was an awesome day.
That evening we had a few drinks with the group and went for dinner at El Patio. Another cracking steak. Argentina has genuinely ruined steak for me in every other country — the bar is just too high now. The Malbec kept flowing and it was one of those nights where good food, good wine, and good company all line up perfectly.
We also did a trip out to see Aconcagua in the Andes, the highest peak in the Americas at nearly 7,000 metres. Managed to get free tickets somehow, which was a bonus. Standing at the viewpoint and looking up at this enormous mountain, knowing people actually climb to the top, made me feel both inspired and deeply content with just looking at it from a safe distance.
The rest of our time in Mendoza was spent at the gym, a hostel BBQ one evening (there’s always a hostel BBQ in Argentina), and sorting out the boring but necessary life admin — paying bills back home, booking the bus to Buenos Aires. The mundane bits of travel that nobody puts on Instagram. But even the quiet days in Mendoza felt good. The city just has that energy where you’re happy to be doing not much at all.
