Icy baths and rock skipping.

Emperor Meow does not like lakes. He thinks they're pointless masses of water.

In the area where El Bolsón is, there are several lakes and rivers: Río Azul, Lago Puelo, Desemboque, Puerto Patriada...  My dad really likes driving us everywhere, so we were lucky enough to explore many of them.

Usually the watery places are all kind of connected to each other, and they share a few traits: the surroundings are purple snow-capped mountains, covered in cypress forests, the banks are covered in soft, flat, round-edged pebbles (perfect for skipping), they have a nice selection of old willow trees that give you perfect shady spots to lay down, and they're made of crystal clear water that has all the shades of blue (50?) you can imagine. And it's cold. Cold. Cold as cold gets.

Beautiful clouds over very cold and awesome lake.

Chey has a special talent for making me do things that I would chicken out about if I was on my own, and probably the main of this things is making me get into the water.

I can honestly say that Australia has spoiled me when it comes to frolicking in the water. Anything other than warm puts me off...

That said, when I see little kids (or my dad) getting into the icy lake like happy seals, I get a bit of pressure.

In every lake or river we have the same sequence, as if it was choreographed.

*Realize the sun is shiny and the weather is sweet*

"Wanna get into the water?"

"OK"

*Walks to the edge, dips toes*

"Hell NO, it's so cold!!" *walks backwards like a cat out of a bag*

"Come on Adri, now we have to get in if we got as far as the edge of the water" *gets in up to knees*

"You go" *gets in up to knees as well*

"I will if you will" *gets in further*

"Dammit, Chey" *very slowly walks a bit more*

In the end, and after loads of talking and walking in and swearing in Spanish, we would always get fully in and emerge proudly, looking like featherless birds, our bodies shivering. And then we would spend the rest of the afternoon walking around, collecting good skipping rocks and skipping them, and taking embarrassing pictures with the girls and, ocasionally, my dad.

I love summer.

Chey's rock-skipping powers.

Perfect skipping surface.

Panorama, Lago Epuyén.

More ridiculously clear perfect rock skipping surface, Lago Epuyen.

Bridge across the river.

Chey looks for more rocks without realizing he just killed a man.

I skip rocks in a much more friendly way.

"Your arguments do not impress me, water is still cold."