Visiting Perito Moreno Glacier

Just like Iguazu, the Perito Moreno Glacier is one of those places you have to visit. So we packed ourselves up, sadly waved goodbye to Omar and our new friends at Kaweskar Hostel and left Chile. Again. But this time we weren't alone standing in the immigration queue for an hour. Our two Torres del Paine walking buddies were headed to El Calafate and Perito Moreno as well.

Given our group size (wow...four people!) we decided to rent a car for the following day – no mean feat on a Sunday – to check out both the glacier and the supposedly 'off the beaten track' Lago Roca.

Well, the car rental turned out to be a pretty good idea. Despite starting out as a blustery but sunny day in El Calafate, as we covered the 80km to Perito Moreno the clouds grew thicker and turned a more threatening shade of grey and the light rain turned into a downpour. So we saw almost nothing of the allegedly spectacular scenery on the drive along Lago Argentino.

 The first sighting of Perito Moreno – still from the drive - lifted our spirits somewhat, knowing that we would at least be able to see the glacier despite the fog and rain. And what a view. That first glimpse of blue ice always takes my breath away!

But really there's no way to miss it. With a 5 kilometre wide terminal face and rising an average of 74m out of Lago Argentino even bad weather can't obscure it. On top of that, it's amazingly accessible with walkways on the bank of the lake that feel like you're right up against it, even though at that size there is no way to appreciate how massive it actually is.

Apart from it's beauty, Perito Moreno is remarkable for the fact that huge chunks of ice regularly calve off the terminal face so it's as much an auditory experience as a visual one.

We stood in the rain until our waterproof jackets were soaked...although still waterproof, waiting for the ice drama to unfold.

From time to time we'd hear the enormous rumble that sounded like thunder and would desperately scan the glacier to see the pieces of ice slide into the lake. And just like at Glacier Grey they seemed really small!

Sodden, we returned to the car and headed for Lago Roca. At that point the weather hadn't improved nor did it for the rest of the afternoon, so the view of what seemed like a very pretty area was a bit patchy, but at least we were warm and dry.

What we did see, were enormous looking birds of prey on the side of the road that didn't mind the least bit being photographed.

The lake itself was rather unimpressive in the grey drizzle, so we entertained ourselves while stretching our legs by jumping in the puddles in an attempt to spraying mud at everyone else. Okay, only some of us did that! And then on the way out we nearly got the car bogged! It took four great minds all offering opinions on how to get up the hill and some skilful driving.

Finally we returned to El Calafate and would you believe that there the sun was still shining!

Doing the W! Torres del Paine: Part One

“Ah, you're just pussies,” he said, leaning over the seat as our bus lurched from side to side on the winding road in Torres del Paine National Park. We were twenty minutes away from being dropped off at the ferry that would take us to the start of the W, which we'd planned to walk over four days and three nights.

Five minutes later, it had become a five day hike with at least an extra 17.5km thrown in for good measure. Oh and the company of two German guys. Apparently us Australians are all the same!

At least the decision paid dividends right from the start, even if it meant our carefully calculated food rations would need to be stretched an extra day. At the ferry terminal there had been a lot of commotion as someone had seen a puma. A group of both tourists and park workers gathered at the crest of the road hoping for a glance that didn't materialise. Eventually, after everyone on the bus except for our little group had gathered their things, we continued down the road.

Not far from the terminal another group of employees stood watching the opposite hill. As the bus approached they started pointing frantically, to the spot they were observing. There, blending perfectly into the golden grass, a puma was walking up the hill. As the brakes on bus shrieked into action, she stopped and turned to look down at us. That's when we saw not one, but two of her cubs as they bounded past her and over the crest of the hill.

It was after 12pm when we hit the trail with a projected 8-9 hours of walking ahead of us.

At least the first section which took us straight towards the Paine Massif was easy, providing us an opportunity to work out exactly what we'd gotten ourselves into by joining the crazy Germans.

By the time we reached the section that we'd initially planned to walk that day, most other hikers were already cooking dinner by their tents or sipping wine at their hosteria. That, along with the clear, calm weather was a blessing. When the path emerged from the forest and onto rocky outcrops, we were alone to observe the lake filled with blue icebergs.

In the late afternoon, when we got the first glimpse of Glacier Grey and the enormous ice fields all around, we felt like we'd discovered something amazing.

And when finally I stumbled into the campsite that evening, where the other hikers were already settling into their down sleeping bags, I was convinced that they, not I were pussies.

It gets easier from here...
It did not escape the attention of some of the members of our group, that we were camped just near an enormous glacier. Me? I slept straight through the thunderous noise as chunks of ice broke off the terminal face and slid into the water, to eventually come drifting past the little beach we were camped beside.

In the morning, we went further up the hill to get a better look at Glacier Grey from the campsite we'd hoped to have reached the previous evening. After a bit of a scramble we got to the lookout that sits high above the ice and for over an hour, we admired the deep blue crevasses and waited for the glacier to calve. When they did the chunks of ice seemed miserably small in comparison to the thundering roar, which got us thinking about just how enormous the glacier, the mountains and ice fields beyond, really were.

By the afternoon, when we'd picked up our packs and were headed for the middle of the W, the famous Patagonian wind was in the mood to play. The gusts would come in so strong, that our footsteps would inevitably land everywhere but where we'd intended, giving us the appearance of drunken backpackers stumbling from one side of the path to the other. I'd been warned, but it had always seemed inconceivable that the wind could so casually almost knock us off our feet.

Later in the day and in a seemingly entirely different section of the park the wind eased. Without needing to worry about staying on our feet, we could focus on how much the scenery had changed just from that morning. From rocky cliffs and forest, we we're walking straight towards the heart of the Paine massif, past turquoise glacial lakes and shrubs set aflame with flowers.
 

Finally, not long before night fall, we crossed a very cool suspension bridge over an icy river to reach our campsite in the shelter of the lenga forest. While the Patagonian wind swept through the canopy, I dreamt about the glaciers and mountains I'd gotten a glimpse of upstream.