A Tusitala's Journey Tusitala is a word in Samoan language which means "writer of stories". This journal tells the adventures, findings and misfortunes of this Tusitala on the road to uncover some of the world's hidden stories. A pen, a dreamer and no limits.

“The reason why Van Gogh cut his ear off”, claimed the green sign carefully written in white letters.
I was on my way to Mendoza City, capital of a central-west province of Argentina and, as I had a few hours to spare, I stopped in a small town called Chacras de Coria, which is famous for its vineyards alongside the Andes’ highest peaks. I decided to rent a bicycle and go sightseeing. Wine lover that I am, I rapidly sign up for a two-wheel wine testing tour.
It took me about three sips of a wonderful Malbec to realize that a hot summer day in Mendoza (where it can get around 35°C), wine tasting and bicycle riding can be a very dizzy and blurry combination. Mental note: Next time, take the bus tour. And maybe it was the grape juice or the exhaustion what made me feel confused when I saw the green sign.
Set in the front yard of a house that made me wonder if I was in The Shire, a human-sized green fairy holding the sign showed the guests to their way to the door. The smell of chocolate which filled my nose from the moment I started crossing the lawn announced I was about to enter a “chocolate & liqueurs factory”.
An old, chatty woman opened the door and invited me in. She let me try different types of chocolate which tasted familiar and heartwarming. She told me all about the family history and how her grandfather had come to Argentina from Switzerland with nothing but his chocolate knowledge and a two hundred year old recipe for the “green elixir” that drawn 19th century bohemians to madness: absinth.
Absinth was forbidden in Argentina in the early decades of the 20th century. Years later, even though it was legal to drink it, only a few bottles a year were allowed to be made. She showed me a small room where huge jars covered the walls. They were filled with all sorts of herbs soaked in what looked like water but smelled nauseatingly sweet.
“Vincent (yes, they were on first-name basis) drank it like juice” said the lady. “Drank like that, it’s said to cause hallucinations. Green fairies and everything”, she added in a mysterious tone. Apparently it was one of those evil creatures who persuaded Van Gogh to cut his ear.
Regretting not having more time to spend with the lady who shared her family stories like a grandma would during bed time, I left the house with a bottle of the ancient beverage under my arm.
Back home I tried the green elixir with my friends and, although no evil version of Tinkerbelle appeared, just in case, I hid all the knives.