This weekend I traveled to Mendoza, Argentina. Situated just east of the Andes, it is the capital city of the arid Mendoza Province. It’s world-renowned as the heart of Argentina’s wine country, where much of the nation’s prized Malbec is produced. Flying into Mendoza, the hot sun over the whitecaps reminded me of Colorado, and I was glad to find some respite from my usual city views.

We spent the first morning strolling through town and napping off our fatigue. That afternoon we found ourselves at an overpriced rooftop cafe looking out over the beautiful city and the mountains in the distance. We meandered through the main town plaza, watching the canoers on the lake and stopping to smell the flowers in the perfectly manicured rose garden. We finished the evening with a delicious meal; I ate rabbit ravioli and drank local wine which felt very luxurious. 

The next morning we were up bright and early to hike Cerro Arco, one of the mountain peaks closer to town. Even at 9 am, it was hot, and all of us were puffing as we ascended, pausing to take in the landscape and also to avoid keeling over. On our way down, we began chatting with another hiker. After exchanging pleasantries, she warned us of the Zonda, a local phenomenon in which the wind comes down the Andes hot, dry, and very fast. She said winds could reach 80 km that weekend and advised us to stay inside if possible. We thanked her but shrugged it off; even at the top of our mountain, there was hardly a breeze. 

But throughout the rest of the day, we continued to hear warnings of the Zonda. We dressed up and drove out to the countryside for a wine tasting. We toured the vineyard and the cellars before sitting down to several different wine and cheese pairings. Truth be told, I used to think the whole sommelier thing was hocus pocus (notes of oak and tobacco? Please), but this experience changed my mind. Our guide taught us how to identify what we were tasting such that by the third wine variety I was basically an expert in tannins and mouthfeel. 

At this point, the winds had indeed begun to pick up. As our tour came to a close, all that dry steppe dust was beginning to swirl into the air and fill our lungs and eyes. We went directly home and canceled our plans that night. The streets outside our downtown Airbnb were deserted. On our trek to dinner, we covered our mouths as we were whipped by wind and debris like some kind of sick Western movie. Mid-meal, the lights flickered and a loud crash outside turned out to be an entire tree collapsing into the street.

Needless to say, we stayed in the next day. I was disappointed that we had been forced to abandon our plans, but we made the most of it. We slept in and spent the afternoon reading, watching music videos, and playing cards. Our power went out that evening while we were out grabbing dinner and didn’t come back on until the middle of the night.

It certainly was not the weekend we were expecting, but we left with a bit of a tan and a few essential lessons: 1) Remain flexible. 2) Do not trust the Weather app. It will lie to you. 3) If multiple local residents tell you that the Argentine version of the Dust Bowl is coming, you should probably heed their warnings. In the end, we had a great time and I would definitely recommend visiting Mendoza… weather permitting.