Where the Magenta Sea Lions Were
When I was a kid, one of the first photos I remember holding in my hands was of sea lions in Mar del Plata. My parents spent their honeymoon there and later returned a few more times with close friends.
I remember those images clearly. The colors were off, slightly magenta, probably from poor processing. But they stayed with me. I kept wondering what those animals were and how people could get so close to them.
It wasn’t until I stepped into Mar del Plata myself that it started to make sense. It was a trip I had been postponing without a clear reason. Even with the summer season already over, the moment finally came through the Mar del Plata 21K race. Being there made something clear: my connection to Argentina hadn’t been built recently or out of novelty. It had been forming much earlier, through those images and stories. It was something I had been carrying for decades, now experienced directly through my own senses.
That’s why places like Aconcagua, Bariloche, and Córdoba felt different when I visited them; not just new destinations, but something familiar, like inherited reference points I had carried for years, finally resolved. Most of all, the port of Mar del Plata, with its sea lions, engaged all my senses and carried an emotional weight; being in a place where both my parents once spent meaningful time.
I don’t know what’s next, but thank you, Argentina.
