Out of this world… that’s what visiting Patagonia felt like. The photo is from a bike ride in, at times, almost moonlike scenery; for as far as the eye could see, there was absolutely no one else around.
Apart from the scenery, I was intrigued by the idea of the area’s early settlers who arrived from different parts of Europe and decided to start new lives in Patagonia. It must’ve been a harsh environment, but there was lots of space and – I would imagine – a sense of freedom.
I imagine a certain feeling of independence, not needing to rely on the outside world, cutting off ties and building something new, something of your own. Restarting your life. The imaginary settlers in my mind built a small home from wood and tin, brewing familiar tea amongst furniture and family heirlooms that they’d brought from their home country on that long voyage across the oceans. Dust sweeping in through the cracks in the walls and nothing growing in the backyard that they had imagined would be an edenlike garden, life was modest but they were determined. Letters were written home and old photos were pored over. There was no going back.
Decades later, their grandchildren are Argentineans, speak Spanish, and this is their home.