There is a very interesting place, one where the streets are made of rock and the sky is always blue. A place of colorful clothing and the most exquisite food. A town of magic, that casts a spell on its visitors so they can’t help but come back again, and again.

Guess where it is?

Hidden between the mountains, the little town of stories silently waited for us: there is a story in every cup of hot chocolate, in the rain-soaked wooden houses, in Lake Lácar, in the color of the leaves that hang from the trees and in the people, who leave their windows open and greet you as they have breakfast.

With great pride I told my friends that my birthday present for my mom that year would be to take her to visit the hometown of Tango, of grilled meat and wine. The land of theaters and of the streets that gift you a little piece of Europe without leaving South America.

The land where cities are made of bricks; the world of spectacular beaches where the jungle meets the sea, the home of the chubby sculptures, of towns from another world, and of friends who will become your brothers and sisters from another family.

A magical place where time stops so that nature can be the protagonist. A world where traffic is generated by intrepid seals competing to reach the shore, where the most common means of transportation are your own feet, where submerging in a new world has a literal meaning, and the best gift you receive each day is a sunset you will never forget.