When I was 24, I flew to Brazil and hopped on a bus bound for Chile. After two days on the road, I got off in Argentina in a city called Mendoza. It was meant to be a temporary stop but I ended up staying two years; learning Spanish, joining the local squash club (I got roundly beaten by legendary Pumas prop Federico Méndez a few times), and eating my way through what felt like an entire herd of cattle.
I rented
