If your idea of a vacation is sipping cocktails by the pool, I’m going to stop you right there. The Gaucho Derby isn’t for the faint-hearted—or anyone who values comfort, sanity, or consistent access to Wi-Fi. Nope, this is for the wild ones, the adventurers, the slightly unhinged thrill-seekers who think “fun” involves galloping across Argentina’s untamed wilderness on horseback for 500 kilometers.Yeah, you heard me. Five. Hundred. Kilometers. Brought to you by The Equestrianists (a group of people who clearly enjoy combining horses with questionable life choices), the Gaucho Derby is like the love child of the Mongol Derby and an Argentinian rodeo. It’s an epic, multi-day test of endurance, horsemanship, and whether or not you’ve got the grit to survive Patagonia’s ever-shifting moods. Think scorching sun, freezing nights, treacherous mountain passes, and rivers that look like they could swallow a small boat. Oh, and did I mention the wild horses? The Horsepower of the Pampas The event kicks off in the shadow of the Andes, where you and a motley crew of fellow lunatics (sorry, “riders”) are given your trusty steed. Now, these aren’t your average ponies—they’re hardy, sure-footed criollo horses that have been bred for generations to handle the toughest terrains with ease. And you’re going to need that because, spoiler alert: the route changes every year, and no one—not even the organizers—really knows what kind of hell Mother Nature’s going to throw at you. Your job? Ride. Navigate. Survive. Repeat. You’ll be covering around 100 kilometers a day, which sounds exhausting because, well, it is. But when you’re racing across sweeping plains, dipping into valleys straight out of a Nat Geo spread, or dodging the odd Andean condor, you won’t care about your aching backside. (Okay, maybe a little.) Who Needs GPS? One of the best things about the Gaucho Derby? It’s designed to mess with you. GPS? Forget it. This isn’t a road trip with your dad shouting directions from the passenger seat. You’re on your own here, armed with a map, a compass, and whatever survival skills you’ve picked up from watching Bear Grylls reruns. Each night, you’ll either bunk down in a gaucho village, where you can swap stories over a cup of mate, or camp under the stars. Don’t expect gourmet meals, but if you’re lucky, you might score some traditional asado (Argentinian BBQ), which—let’s be honest—is worth the pain of a full day in the saddle. And when you’re not cursing the landscape or wondering why you signed up for this, you’ll have moments of pure, unfiltered awe. The kind that comes when you crest a ridge and see the wild expanse of Patagonia unfold before you. Or when you realize your horse knows this land better than any GPS ever could. Or when you share a silent moment with your four-legged partner, feeling like you’re part of something timeless and ancient. Gaucho Life Isn’t for the Weak Now, if you’re thinking, “But what if I fall off?” Don’t worry. You will. And it’ll hurt. But this isn’t about how many times you hit the dirt; it’s about how many times you get back in the saddle. That’s the spirit of the gaucho, after all—tough, relentless, and always ready for the next challenge. You’ll be competing against some of the most skilled and determined riders in the world. But really, the Gaucho Derby is less about beating the competition and more about conquering yourself. It’s about pushing your limits, trusting your horse, and finding out what you’re made of when the chips are down, and you’re miles from civilization. The Finish Line: Worth Every Bruise By the time you stumble across the finish line—dusty, sore, and probably wondering if you’ll ever walk normally again—you’ll realize you’ve just completed one of the most intense, incredible, and borderline insane experiences of your life. The Gaucho Derby isn’t just a race. It’s a testament to the raw, untamable beauty of Patagonia, the enduring partnership between horse and rider, and the indomitable spirit of the adventurers brave enough to tackle it. So, if you’re ready to swap your beach towel for a saddle, your cocktail for a cup of mate, and your holiday for the adventure of a lifetime—saddle up. The Gaucho Derby is calling. And trust me, it’ll be one wild ride.
As a native New Yorker, I’m no stranger to long commutes. But after an eight-hour journey into the heart of the Peruvian rainforest in a diesel-chugging, flat-bottom boat, even this experienced subway rider has met his match.
Hours pass and the jungle thickens, and by the time we disembark it’s clear we’ve ventured into a world virtually untouched by humans. It might just be the engine ringing in my ears, but I’m pretty sure I’m about to have my mind blown.
It’s fitting that the Tambopata Research Center is located in a region of south-eastern Peru known as Madre de Dios, or Mother of God. Tens of thousands of plant and animal species, from macaws and monkeys to jaguars and giant turtles, thrive in this protected tangle of forest. The wildlife is so prolific that while I’m here my guides discover two new species of spiders – and that’s just on the walk from the boat to the lodge. Visiting this jungle is like stepping into God’s messy kitchen.
Getting to Madre de Dios isn’t easy, but that’s part of the appeal. Upon flying into Puerto Maldonado, I’m met by a personal guide from Rainforest Expeditions and brought by bus to Infierno, a town that seems to consist of a bodega (bottle shop), bathroom and small dock on the Tambopata River. With my personal Virgil (whose name is actually Ramón and who’s far more placid than the character from Dante’s Inferno) I jump into a little vessel along with a dozen other intrepid travellers. Our first destination, the Refugio Amazonas lodge, is a three-hour cruise away.
With its shellac-coated wood walls and thatched roofs, this remote outpost oozes with all the romance and adventure of a Hemingway tome, or an early Cary Grant film. Following a warm reception featuring tall, refreshing drinks, we’re handed room keys. It’s a curious touch considering each suite has just three walls and a gap opening out to the foliage. Hammocks invite us to kick back and doze in the syrupy air, and meals are prepared fresh, despite the distance from civilisation and the fact that power zips through wires for just a few hours each day. I’ve found eco-friendly bliss.
The next day, we trek through backcountry to an observation tower. For those of us with the guts to climb up, it rewards with a sublime view of the 30-metre-high rainforest canopy. A small, man-powered boat carries us across a lake that’s home to dozens of species of birds. Chicken-size, mohawk-sporting hoatzins perch on sticks and horned screamers show off long slender spikes sprouting from their skulls.
“Shall we fish for piranhas?” Ramón asks, to which the answer is, of course, “Hell yes!” He carefully fixes a morsel of meat to a hook and line that looks like a tool Huckleberry Finn just put down.
“Here, just drop it in. Gently,” he instructs, handing it over to me. I dip it in the water cautiously (I’ve watched Shark Week one too many times) and before I know it, a small piranha dangles from the end of my line. Ramón slides it off the hook, giving us a close look at the type of sashimi that’s perfectly capable of taking a bite out of you, before returning it to the lake. I make a mental note to switch to California rolls.
I already feel eons away from the NYC grind, but we’re yet to embark on the final leg of our expedition that will take us to the Tambopata Research Center. Nature takes complete control as our repurposed truck engine blasts us deeper up the river, in the direction of one of the most remote lodges in the world. Caimans brandish their snouts above the murky water and we even spot a jaguar lounging on the riverbank. Trees march down to the river, their roots holding the earth in place.
Small barges cruise past, each adorned with pumps that shoot water through a giant slanted sieve. “Those are illegal gold miners,” explains Ramón. “This river is rich with gold.” It’s dangerous work, but apparently very lucrative – if you are lucky and you don’t get caught.
Three hours into the ride we come to a fork in the river and dock at a weathered landing. We’re at the Malinowski River control station, a mandatory stop implemented to reduce illegal river traffic. A hut stands as the office, accessible via boards with bottle caps nailed on to add a bit of extra traction. A makeshift basketball hoop clings to the side of a wonky tree. The whole place appears as though it’s been pulled from the set of Apocalypse Now. Weathered maps and young men with firearms line the walls inside, and an official obligingly stamps my passport so I can memorialise making it this far into the jungle.
We pull up to the research centre two hours later. Porters dash to the bank to grab our sacks and we trundle through the wild forest that bristles with noise. Boar-like peccaries bark at each other and shuffle hooves through the low-lying bush, while howler monkeys scream across the treetops.
Graced with a grand entrance, the Tambopata Research Center is even more earthy and majestic than the Refugio Amazonas. What really sets it and this Rainforest Expeditions tour apart from other Amazon trips is the fact that the lodge is also a fully functioning research facility. With field scientists and researchers on site, visitors experience far more than eco-tourism. A stay here borders on college credit.
Ramón promises we’ll spot a few macaws letting loose at a nearby clay lick. It turns out ‘a few’ actually means a few hundred. Plumes in scarlet, cobalt, chartreuse and egg-yolk yellow blur before me like a psychedelic Gaspar Noé title sequence (Enter the Void, look it up). The biodiversity found here is beyond any zoo or safari on Earth. No SD card in the world has enough capacity to capture it all.
Researchers join us at dinner, allowing us the chance to whack them with all the questions that have bubbled up during the day. They feed us stories about the rare animals they’ve observed and discoveries made. Sometimes they dish up tips on the best locations to capture perfect photographs. Over one meal, a young researcher invites a couple of us on a “rainforest rave”.
“We go out at night with UV lights and search for bioluminescent insects. It’s a riot!” For the photographers in our midst, the offer is akin to telling a frat boy there’s a well-organised pub crawl planned. Armed with blacklights, we head into the dark-as-pitch night and watch as the forest puts on a show that would astound even the most sauced-up Burning Man participant. Spiders that look like the 80s puked all over them crawl on logs. Frogs radiate pink and green like a brash neon sign. Did you know scorpions glow bright blue under UV light? They’re just like a toy from one of those grocery store vending machines.
During the next few days we tramp through riverbeds and hike inland to waterholes, spotting bats and turtles, armies of barking caterpillars and flocks of butterflies. Living in these trees are 600 bird species, 200 types of mammals, a thousand butterflies and innumerable insects. My neck almost unscrews from constantly turning to observe new creatures.
A shaman waits for us at a spiritual retreat that’s being constructed downriver. Wandering through the jungle garden, he points out the hallucinogenic vine he uses in traditional ayahuasca ceremonies. Unfortunately, it’s not yet ready to be stewed into the tea that sends your mind to out of space. I can’t begin to imagine what a rainforest rave would do to your brain after drinking up a serve.
Manual labour isn’t on the official ticket, but there are plenty of opportunities to get your hands dirty if you wish. I team up with three young post-grads to scale a 30-metre-high tree. Up in its limbs we hang a macaw nest fitted with a camera. It’s part of a plan to research the curious habits of these birds that not only share food and grooming duties, but also form life-long relationships.
After five days immersed in the rainforest, it’s time to emerge from the wilderness. We venture back downstream and reunite with civilisation in Infierno. I’ve been to remote places before, but this adventure has stirred me in a way that was entirely unexpected. Perhaps the contrast between the sublimely comfortable accommodation and the jungle’s untamed, unrivalled biodiversity is too much for my city-forged mind to handle. Or maybe being surrounded by clever people, who have dedicated their entire existence to cultivating more knowledge, is what did me in.
I return to my small apartment, 24-hour electricity and high-speed internet a bit shaken, a little more sceptical of pre-packaged food and burning with a growing sense of enlightenment. It seems as though the journey not only took me to one of the most remote places on this planet, but also deep into my own soul and left me with truths I never knew before. Well, that and a yearning for another rainforest rave.
A geodesic dome at the heart of the Sacred Valley in Incan territory, Peru.
The dome is designed as a multi-purpose space for social connection, arts, stargazing and meditation, surrounded by lush hillsides, mountains and mystical ruins from centuries gone by.
These are all everyday activities, significantly amplified by incredibly special surrounds.
We’re not breaking any exclusives when we reveal how magnificent this area of the world is, but we can tell you that this extraordinary locale is the ideal place to base yourself, before and after hikes in the area.
A summertime beacon next to a pristine lake and green fields, the floor to roof glass windows of Hotel De Cielo shimmer beneath the sun.
But visit in winter and this hotel seemingly disappears into the frozen, snow-white landscape high in the Argentinian Andes. No matter the season, Hotel De Cielo is a cosy refuge from the outside world.
There are three ‘Sky Lofts’, each with a mirrored outside that make it feel as if you’re invisible. The Hotel describes the lofts as ‘microcosms of warmth’.
Wake up, put on the kettle, and enjoy the thrill of being in such a majestic location; surrounded by South America’s famous mountain giants.
One of the great things about discovering a speakeasy, is searching for it. Don’t expect to find a sign for Floreria Atlantico but if you enter a flower store (thankfully open till the wee hours) then head through a door the basement, you will be find this hip Buenos Aires speakeasy.
The cocktail menu takes its inspiration from the European countries from where people immigrated to Argentina including American bartenders and their cocktail culture, the English and the Dutch who brought their gin, the wines Amaris of the Italians, Spanish, French and Portuguese. There’s also sumptuous tapas and parilla (grill) for visitors who need a bite to eat.
Rather than being a generic speakeasy or a facsimile of the USA-style speakeasy, Floreria Atlantico located near the docks celebrates Argentina’s own country’s rich and varied treasures and pays homage to its rich culture products and people.
Get ready to loosen the hips as the percussionist troupe La Bomba De Tiempo launch into an improvised funk-fuelled latin performance every Monday night at 7pm.
Each performance is a truly unique experience with music generated from hand signals between the musicians and the conductor. The head honcho will execute more than 90 signs with his hands to lead the improvisation into a rhythmic frenzy.
Now in its twelfth season, every show’s had a guest who participates in the game of musical improvisation and interaction. Hundreds of Argentinean and foreign musicians from different backgrounds and styles have performed and more than five million sweaty peeps have experienced the rhythmic elixir. It’s happening every Monday and dancing is mandatory!
Just south of Brazil, squatters have cobbled together scrap-wood houses in the desert landscape of Cabo Polonio National Park. The town is a hippie’s paradise – there are no paved roads or running water, there’s little electricity and private vehicles are banned.
Ownership of Cabo Polonio is split between private citizens and the government, who designated it a protected national park in 2009. Buses from Montevideo drop those in the know at a petrol station by the highway, where they hop onto a truck that chugs across the dunes and down to the beach. A handful of hostels lurk between shacks, and residents rent rooms to guests. Spend your days lazing in a hammock while watching cows cruise the beach or sea lions congregate below the nearby lighthouse.
A mini-high season flourishes from December through to February, when locals transform their kitchens into restaurants and vendors travel door to door selling mussels and cake.
There’s every chance you’re never going to want to check out – everything about Mio Buenos Aires is carefully considered, from the six-metre-high front door made from French oak wine barrels to the carefully selected works by Argentine artists displayed throughout the public areas.
Each of the 30 stylish rooms and suites is designed around an epic bathtub, carved from tree trunks by local artisan Mario Dasso, and includes a private cellar of wine, a nod to the day jobs of the vintner family who built this stylish bolt hole. If you need to withdraw from the city for a little while, tuck yourself into the sofa in the mezzanine library overlooking the landscaped terrace.
Córdoba might not be South America’s nightlife capital, but the up-and-coming barrio of Güemes looks set to plant Argentina’s second city on the map. Design-led Capri is the latest joint to lead the charge, with a colour palette inspired by the famed island resort, coupled with 80s-style minimalism and an urban finish that creates a vibe ripe for carousing. Pop in for the signature Fresh, a combination of English breakfast tea and gin, spiced with ginger and grapefruit juice.
A marble countertop skirts the frontage and a total lack of doors means the boundary between interior and exterior is blurred, allowing eyes to wander and drawing in passers-by intent on savouring the night-time delights of Córdoba. For a hit of nostalgia, take the weight off in one of Capri’s ‘college’ chairs – old-school-style furniture given a modern makeover and a dash of real-world comfort. It’s a thoughtful nod to this thriving city’s title as Argentina’s major university town.