Mira Vos: Wasted Days in Argentina

On a snowy night in late February 2018, my lawyer son met me for the annual montage of flyfishing documentaries, those amphetamine-like films of women and men flitting around the world in search of sanity. I sat beside him in the theater, twitching and squirming like some Narcotics Anonymous flunky watching junkies snort coke on the big screen. The two-hour torture finally over, I punctuated my farewell with, “I’ve wasted my entire life,” to which my son lovingly replied, “Yes, you have.” 

I returned to work that Monday, whining for 14 days off in April, and before the week’s end had purchased a round trip ticket to Buenos Aires, Argentina.

It had been more than two decades since my first visit to Argentina, a nation stuffed with Italian and Spanish and all other form of immigrant, a land still blessed with only half the United States’ population density while remaining the world’s ninth-largest country. It’s a republic where people dine near midnight, consume an average of 130 pounds of beef annually, then toss and turn on the dreams and nightmares of Juan Peron…

Subscribe for access to this article plus the entire archive of The Flyfish Journal content—and receive 10% off of The Flyfish Journal products.


The FlyFish Journal Mailing List

We respect your time, and only send you the occasional update.