Torres del Paine

Part 3...

The most beautiful walk in the world?

From Ushuaia we retrace our steps to Punta Arenas. A 2hr border crossing delays us and we are late for our connection (border crossings are futile. Our bags are unloaded, scanned, sniffered, reloaded. Passports and documents are signed and stamped in triplicate. The bus then crawls 50m across an arbitrary line in the desert and the whole process is repeated in Chile. The customs officers show less than no interest to x-ray tv. Despite signs everywhere indicating the penalties for not declaring fruit and veg, we are are waved on without even getting our apples from their bag. No wonder MAF have such a difficult time getting tourists arriving in NZ to take it seriously).

We scramble off the bus and Nic dashes off to chase down the connecting bus, while I grab the bags. Despite all the (mostly non-verbal) urgency communicated to the conductor he's in no rush to unload the baggage. He chats casually to street vendors. I've had enough and toss open the luggage door. Casting suitcases aside on the street I haul out our packs and set-off down the street, half expecting to be tackled at any moment for an alleged theft. I arrive at the next bus station to find Nic, teapot, standing stubbornly blocking the way of a bright orange, double-decker bus with driver and conductor glaring through the windshield. We hop on, avoiding all eye-contact as we take our place in the back row.

Wordplay at its finest

The destination this time is Puerto Natales, from where we based ourselves before heading out to walk in the Torres del Paine National Park. Here's the info if you want it - if you've seen an ad for Patagonia, chances are the pictures will have been taken at Torres del Paine. We are fortunate to find that the only other guests at our hostel in Puerto Natales are a friendly Chilean couple working as guides in the park. They speak very good english and are happy to share with us their advice. Like, for example, there is more snow in the park than there has been in the last 10 years. And that a big chunk of the track is probably inaccessible. 

As we make our way around the town to hire equipment for the trek, we get some feedback from incredulous salesmen. You want to hire a tent?! You realise there's a lot of snow in the park? And that the refugios aren't open in winter? The forecast doesn't look fantastic either. Sunshine for the following day, but rain from there on - a park trademark. The TDP website says emphatically: bring quick drying, synthetic clothing only; our packs are full with wool and goose down.

We have a restless night wondering whether this might be a mistake, but there's little sleep to lose as the All Blacks are playing at 5am and the bus to the park arrives at 7am.

Thankfully, all our fears are dispelled as we walk along the access road to the beginning of the trail. As it's off-season there's no shuttle service offered across this section, but the spectacular views of the towers (torres) are worth the extra walk.

The most popular trail in the park forms a 'W' shape around the base of two large mountainous outcrops, which can be walked in either direction. We decided to start at the towers end, knowing the weather was meant to be at its best on day 1. However a quick check in with the guys at the hosteria (hosteria las torres on the map below) confirms the snow situation - it is waist deep on the track to the towers, the return walk would take at least 7 hours and it's already midday. After a bit of umming and ah-ing, we decide to cut our losses and make the most of the sunshine, heading around the base of the W to Campamento Italiano. 

Kind of like a Magic Eye picture, you can make out a green 'W' if you squint a little

Lago Nordenskjöld in the foreground and Lago Sarmiento in the background surrounded by a ring of white rock

The walk around the base of the towers offered stunning views of the lakes and mountains of the park. With each hill or corner in the trail there was seemingly always something new to marvel at.

The Cuernos (Horns) del Paine

Camp Italiano is located in the cleavage of the 'W' and just down the valley from a retreating glacier.  We arrive in twilight and get busy setting up the tent. After a dinner of simple pasta (but made all the more tasty with the commonest of camping spices: fatigue and a clear night sky) we prepare ourselves for a Patagonian winter night. Thermals, puffer jackets, wooly hats, gloves and socks, and hot water bottles (Mr & Mrs Mitchell, we thank thee for the brilliant tip of filling our aluminum bottles with boiling water) all inside the sleeping bag. It's with equal measures of relief and disappointment that we both get far too hot and have to strip off layers during the night. All the while the campsite is brought alive by the thunderous crashing sounds echoing through the valley as parts of the glacier tumble down.

Glimpse of one of the many avalanches we saw and heard on day 2

Day 2 is a hike up the French Valley under blue skies. We're able to leave our packs at the camp, which is a bonus, because the snow is thigh deep in places. From Campamento Britanico further up the valley the views are panoramic.

The Cuernos from the Valles del Francés

Lunch in the sun in the French valley - and trying to dry out snowy shoes

We make it to Paine Grande camp site that evening and head up to Glacier Grey the next morning. We march into gusty winds and the occasional shower, and make it to the campsite at Refugio Grey before the heavy rain sets in. We while away a wet afternoon playing Spanish hangman in the dirt under the camp shelter until we can justify the next meal. It's a very wet night, but our tent holds up and the stormy night covers the sound of a fox mauling our rubbish bag hanging inside the shelter.

Camp with a view!

The cooker finishes up where global warming left off.
Glacier melt for tea.

No sense of scale here, but the sight of Grey Glacier from our camp is impressive

Grey Glacier

Parachute pack 

Early start on our final day was rewarded with a beautiful sunrise

The rain eases in the morning and the winds that we battled into the day before blow us all the way back to Paine Grande for our final night. We're up early the next day to hike out to Administracion (chopped off the bottom of the map above) and meet our bus for the transfer back to Puerto Natales. Even on this section of the trail, described as 'the boring bit' by a number of people we had spoken to, it still provides some amazing views back at the mountains.

Early morning light makes the colours even more spectacular on our final day

The finish line

Guanaco (big brother of llama)

With nearly 90km covered over 5 days, we walk out unscathed by our Patagonia experience. We see only a handful of people on the trail over this time and the weather defies the forecast - 4 days of sun is a big win. Another highlight for both of us and we can't recommend it enough to anyone visiting Chile or Argentina.

Wow. Long post. Much shorter next time, promise. And some summer clothes photos too (we're writing this from Buenos Aires and it's 25 degrees. Goodbye puffer jacket). Bring on the wedding party celebrations!

Nic & George x

Ushuaia - The end of the World

Catch-up series, part 2 of 3...

Leaving the ferry in Puerto Chacabuco, we transfer to the airport in Coyhaique for a short, yet spectacular, flight to Punta Arenas in the far south of Chile. We only have an afternoon to spend here before the final leg of the transit medley: 14hrs by bus to Ushuaia, Argentina.

Before the Panama Canal simplified things, Punta Arenas was an important port for ships traveling around Cape Horn. It was also a booming trade centre for locally grown wool. Unfortunately sometime in the early 20C wool prices plummeted and with the opening of the canal at a similar time, Punta Arenas fell out of favour.

However the historic buildings have been well preserved (lately natural gas reserves have kept the economy afloat) and it still looks grand despite feeling like time stopped 100 years ago.

Maritime museum in Punta Arenas. Here, Nic delights in finding weather forecasting stuff. 

But our stay here is really only a stopover on our way to Ushuaia, the southern most city in the world. The locals have got a bit carried away with the branding on this front but the title is deserved. By way of comparison it is 1000km closer to the South Pole than Dunedin (a convenient reference point for us. Or 54deg south). You can basically throw a stone to Antarctica.

For those that are interested, the LP gives a good description of the place. Although I suspect the colours have been tweaked in their photos, it's even more spectacular than they show.

Woolshed on an estancia we pass along the way, Tierra del Fuego 

We were lucky to have 4 days of beautiful sunshine and postcard perfect scenery

Ushuaia was initially settled as a penal colony. Hard to imagine how cold the cells must have been for inmates. The jail famously had no perimeter fences. When surprised government officials asked about this the warden would reply, 'but where would they escape to?'

Looking back across Ushuaia from the surrounding mountains. The land mass on the other side of the Beagle Channel forms Cape Horn.

Immediately behind the town centre is a small ski field with a single chairlift and short glacier trek at the top. Snow up to our waist stops us getting to the glacier and so we settle for a self-navigated trip back to town. What starts as a well defined trail gradually becomes a few sets of snowy footprints until finally, after an hour of walking, the footprints stop abruptly. We can hear cars winding down the ski-road across the valley. We plow on directly towards the engine sounds. But the scrubby bush gets the better of us and when we finally accept defeat it's with great relief to find a footprint map out of trouble.

Documentation for the search and rescue team. My shortcut gets us lost in the woods.

Relief on finding a way out. Though the scenery along the way wasn't bad.

On our second day we headed out for a dog sledding and snowshoeing expedition. I felt a bit sorry for the poor dogs having to tow our sled of 4 people, especially given that snow had fallen overnight and made the trail sticky. But they seem to relish the task and it was a surreal experience passing through the snowy woods with the dogs barking and yelping, and our musher shouting orders in spanish. I assume dogs understand spanish better than us.

A welcome alternative to bus travel

Despite their wolfy appearance they're really quite friendly

Snowshoeing

The ride home. New entry at number 1 on my Christmas wishlist.

After the sledding we hike deeper into the woods with snowshoes - a first for both of us. It's easy enough once you master your duck waddle and when we reach a clearing on the mountainside the views of the valley are spectacular. Finally we return back to the little refugio pictured above for sugary hot cinnamon buns. Delicious.

Our last day in Ushuaia is again sunny and still, and we can't resist a day skiing at Cerro Castor. This is Argentina's youngest ski field and has made the most of Tierra del Fuego's tax-free status to import the latest and greatest. All the facilities - lifts, rentals, base lodge, cafeterias - are brand new and we do not wait in a queue all day. Best of all, it's cold enough at just 200m above sea level for the snow to remain fresh even this late in the season so there are no issues for our waning fitness.

Last ride of the day and I get sent up with 12 dozen eggs for the cafe. Luckily for those making pies on the piste below, I overcome a great battle with temptation.

Cerro Castor

With sadness our time here comes to an end and we reluctantly saddle up for the return journey. While not an easy place to get to (for the budget traveller at least) it was well worth the effort and was a real highlight. As it's the launch pad for antarctica expeditions perhaps we will return in the summer one day and make the journey further south. It has certainly piqued our interest.

Many requests to post a map of this journey, but I'm having a few problems getting Googlemaps to work for me. Coming soon.

Part 3 to follow.

La Ruta al Fin del Mundo

Palafitos (houses on stilts) in Chiloe. We stayed in the yellow, red and brown one.

Inside Palafito Hostel - one of our favorite hostels so far

Like any travel diary, there are times when you get a bit behind. This is one of those times, though not entirely due to our tardiness, but a few weeks of long distances, little internet and great adventures. This post will resort to a few points and photos to fill in the gaps.

From Pucon we headed to Chiloe, a large island which remained relatively isolated from mainland Chile until the mid 19th century. The people here retain much of their own pre-Spanish culture, with their own beliefs and myths. Such as Trauco, a deformed ugly dwarf who lures virgins into the woods - explaining away unwanted pregnancies and venereal diseases.

Palafito hostel was a winner, sitting out over the river with views of the town and islands beyond.  An amazing cosy spot with homemade grainy bread for breakfast! (I've (N) had my lifetime quota of white bread in the last 6 weeks).

Enjoying Sopaipillas in Castro

We hired a car for the day and explored parts of the island. While it rained on and off, we saw lots of the countryside, the rugged coast, the wool markets and the wooden churches that Chiloe is famous for. And of course ate delicious seafood (Well I did at least, George stuck with his lomo a lo pobre - a layer cake of steak, chips, fried onion and 2 fried eggs).

Feria Artesanal in Castro - muchos lanos!

San Francisco Iglesia, Castro - built in 1906 entirely of native timber

Next stop was Puerto Varas - highly recommended to us by a couple we met in Chiloe, we thought we'd spend a night here before catching the ferry. With only one full day we decided to make the most of the sun shining (it had been a while) and get out and about. 

Mt Osorno from Puerto Varas

The Ash from Volcan Puyehue in the distance

We headed off to the national park nearby to walk around part of Mt Osorno.  With a tight schedule to catch the bus back to Puerto Varas and a connecting bus to Puerto Montt, we managed to fit in a 5hr walk through scoria, river beds, bush, gevuinas (Chilean hazelnuts which George's parents grow in Akaroa) and up to the snow line. What we thought to be low cloud turned out to be a fine white ash which shrouded the area for the day, coming from the nearby Volcan Puyehue.

Walking around Mt Osorno - note the ashy haze

From here we began the first leg of our trip to the far south, boarding the Navimag ferry headed for Puerto Chacabuco. Happily we had been upgraded from a CCC berth to AAA, sparing us the 22 bed dorm and providing us our own 4-man cabin with bathroom and porthole. On board we had a group of about 30 American uni students, nearly all female. Not really what we were expecting to find on this little travelled route, and certainly a contrast to the rest of the passengers - a surly bunch of weathered fisherman returning to work. The shrieks of 'Oh my God' and 'like' were equalled only by the amount of leering from the men on board.

Navimag ferry to Puerto Chacabuco

Heading into the fiords surrounding Puerto Chacabuco as night falls

Part 1 of 3 in the catch up series complete. Next stop, El Fin del Mundo.