Torres del Paine

Our Torres del Paine adventure really started in Puerto Natales. Although a short bus ride compared to what we´ve become used to the four hours felt cramped and stuffy and by the time we had arrived we were happy to go with the first hostal that offered us a lift and reasonably cheap lodgings. They organised trips to the park but by this time I had a migraine so just went to bed and decided to make a decision in the morning. The next day taking it easy and getting supplies for the trek seemed the best idea.

Our day pottering around Puerto Natales was quite uneventful as we pulled our coats up around our ears and braved the bitterly cold winds. We had a nice warming lunch in a cafe and Blakey added a Chilean mask to the ever expanding collection, we checked the internet and found positive things happening with next steps after we get back home and then we tried to return to a cosy looking spot I had seen earlier for a hot chocolate. We walked for ages in huge circles and never discovered it again, though we did see the port and some of the lesser explored areas of the faded white washed town.

That evening it was early to bed. Our hostal was cheap but pretty grotty- the kitchen was covered in a film of grease and the carpets coated in a layer of grime. We snuggled down in our beds in a cold room made mostly of single pane glass windows that squeaked every time the wind blew and closed our eyes in preparation for our early start. It was not long after this that we started to get a little cross with our hostal- way gone 11 o´clock there was a violent knock on the door- the owner wanted the two other beds in our room for other guests who had just arrived. We were a little cross- we had been promised a double room so didn´t expect to be disturbed and had laid our stuff out for the morning on the bunks. Thankfully they decided to use a different room and we were able to return to sleep.

Or so we thought. At gone 2am another violent knock at the door. Barely giving Blakey two minutes to put some clothes on and answer she was wrapping the glass again. Two more people had arrived and this time all the stuff needed to be moved from the bunk beds. It wasn´t the new guests´ fault but they certainly paid for the disturbance when our alarm went off at 6am the following morning.

After padlocking a few of our posessions under the bed (the advertised luggage service we had been promised!) we had our backpacks ready to go with tent and sleeping bags. Wrapped in all our layers we were still shivering in the hostal (which also advertised heating-pah!) and after a quick breakfast boarded the bus for the three hour journey to the park.

When we finally arrived the grey light cast through the accumulated clouds made it feel early though our trek actually started around 11am. Still, the initial climb into the steep valley with heavy backpacks on soon warmed us up and we were stripping the layers off. It always seems to take an hour or two to get into the swing of these things and today was no exception, but by the time we had climbed far enough up to appreciate the sweeping views across the lakes behind us and the river weaving its way below we were on form. The day continued with this slow and steady pace eventually walking through twisted trees in a muddy forest to a campsite. Thrilled to be free of our bags we set the tent up and headed up the final steep and rocky slope to the viewpoint ahead. The strenuous last leg saw us climbing large boulders until suddenly we reached the summit and were rewarded with a view across to the three towers as they pierced the low hanging clouds sat above a turquoise lake. We weren´t expecting it to be so beautiful and it definately made the slog worthwhile. We descended slightly and found a nice big boulder to sit in front of, offering some protection from the strong winds whilst we took in our surroundings.

After 10 minutes or so the rain started to plop around us in big drops, slowly at first but gathering pace. We quickly decided to descend in a bid to stay dry but arrived back at the tent cold and wet. As we huddled in our tent, clothes attempting to dry in the tiny porch-like area, we used hot water kindly provided by a ranger to prepare our instant mash (flavoured with marmite) and soup. It was rationed but satisfying and we topped it all of with morale boosting chocolate before snuggling down, fully clothed, gloved and hatted and curled together for extra warmth. It wasn´t much good, we both woke many times through the night as the super loud wind and rain smattered against the canvas, splattering the sides with mud. It all seemed to stop only when the sun came up and finally we managed to close our eyes for an hour or two, eventually rising quite late for the day ahead we had planned.

By the time we had cleaned the tent up, packed it away and eaten a bowl of porrige ready to set off it was almost 11 o´clock. We had a long way to walk today, but at breakfast I overheard trekkers coming from the other direction discuss a shortcut which could come in useful and make up for lost time. As was the case before it took us a while to warm up, this time facing a lack of sleep and aching bodies from the previous day´s slog and the previous night´s disturbed rest. This proved particularly tricky for me when out in the exposed valley again. The path hugged the steep slope of the valley wall and consisted of shingles that would occasionally slip and ricochet far down to the river below. This became a real issue when the strengh of the infamous Patagonian wind was enough to knock us off our feet. With the large surface area of the pack on my back I was really struggling and am very grateful to another trekker who gave me one of his walking poles to traverse a particularly narrow and crumbling section- before he came along I was scared I was going to have to sit there until the wind stopped!

A little further on from this and Blakey noticed a well kept path leading to one side- he had found the short cut! We followed around and were soon rewarded with protection from the winds by the mountain face that we were now standing on. From here the wind became our friend as it cleared the sky of most clouds with the exception of some particularly strange lookng formations and the sun was shining in the bright blue sky. This path was higher up than that marked on the map and offered sweeping views accross the surrounding lakes that were lit up in the golden sunlight. Also the trekker traffic started to disperse and we found we had far more path to ourselves without the need for regular "hola´s". As nice as the comaraderie on a trip like this can be, finding you have the sights to yourself can be far more rewarding.

By lunchtime we ended up in a big patch of daisies with snow capped peaks behind us and lakes in front. Another perfect moment as we enjoyed our picnic and photo snapping session. Refreshed, revived and ready to go we kept up our fast pace and headed onwards.

Quite a few hours later, after crossing some big rivers and descending the hill slightly we followed the less clear track to a point with rocks across the path though only to ankle height. Questioning if that was significant Blakey decided to push on. We soon came to a fairly steep descent on another shingle path, but not being too proud we decided we could manage it if we skid down on our bums. All good, other than the stone that went up Blakey´s bum and ripped his trouser slightly.

All good, that was, until after following it a little further the path disintegrated into a narrow, crimbling ledge. Blakey was sure it was getting better further ahead and knowing the gradient of our descent we both decided to push on rather than turn back. We kept this up until the point where I put my foot down and it went straight through the path with me ending up on my knees and my hands in the thorny bushes either side of me, holding on to prevent tumbling all the way down. As I sat there and picked the thorns out of my palms Blakey headed off the path to find a safer and quicker route back to what sounded like the actual path a little way above us thanks to the voices we could hear before returning to help me with my bag. Finally we were back on track, but any extra time the short cut had given us had been taken up by that little adventure. We had a long way to go and needed to move fast to beat nightfall.

The sun was still out, the sights were amazing and we were dealing with the weight of our packs and the strain on our legs. I´m so sorry to discuss my sensitive digestive system again, but it was a fairly significant part of our afternoon. Something had upset me so I found myself running off into bushes rather quickly whilst Blakey unsympathetically threatened to take photos of me, or more productively used the opportunity to photograph the surrounding area. It was a very pretty place to need a poo!

Eventually we found the campsite that had been a landmark for so long. This first one was not free though, so after a brief sit down and a $4 can of Sprite to replace lost fluids (how much?!) we needed to head on. Prices like that were way out of our reach. It was 7pm and the map said two and a half hours walk to the next campsite we wanted, with the sun due to set at 9.30pm- we had to move fast and get the tent up. Somehow, we managed to get there in under two hours and after finding a spot in the packed campsite were tucking into instant mash and soup. Tonight we were out like a light and neither of us woke until morning.

Even with a solid 8 hours sleep the following morning was hard work. My poor old knees were feeling the strain despite all the strappings and I was getting cross with them- I´m sure I´m not supposed to experience things like this at my age! The best thing was that we could leave our bags at the guards hut for now, as we had a 6 hour walk to the viewpoint and back and we could do it luggage free. I still managed to grumble for the first half hour or so.

Still, fate was on our side. The previous night we had heard claps of thunder but there was no lightening or rain and now we were to find out why. After a stop close to camp we found ourselves staring across the valley to the huge and impressive Glacier de Frances. A small stream of ice was breaking off and powdery substance blowing away in the wind. Suddenly we heard an almighty crack and a huge chunk of ice started to slide from the very top of the mountain. We stood and watched in amazement as the avalanche gathered speed and huge plumes of ice powder clouds rolled down the hill and into the air The thunder like sound resonated all around us and just kept going and going, it was truly spectacular.

We journeyed on, motivated by the show we had just seen though still feeling as though we were racing against ourselves. We had decided to cut the last leg off the journey- a trek to another glacier- as after Perito Moreño we had heard it was not quite as impressive. I was also waiting for an email regarding an interview and the weather was staring to turn again- after climbing Rongitoto in cloud cover and not being able to see anything we felt happier returning to the comfort of a bed, but that meant we had to get a ferry at 6.30pm.

Suddenly, we reached our destination- a rocky outcrop that offered spectaclar 360 views of the mountains on either side of the valley and the lakes far below behind us. Our stride saw us arrive there much earlier than expected and just as well. The same as on the first day, we had time to photograph everything, to sit and enjoy it and then just at the moment that we were starting to get cold and needed to move again the rain started to fall and the clouds obscured the view. We descended through the valley to retrieve our bags and then took the squelchy, muddy route across the hills to the ferry port. Somehow we had become superfast, overtaking many people en route and arriving with enough time for a warming cup of coffee, an attempt to dry our clothes and a sneaky review of the pictures we had taken. We felt thoroughly satisfied in all we had seen and in the work out we had, and though some might think we were cheating for missing the last leg, the weather made it very clear that we had made the right decision.

The ferry and following bus journey passed in a sleepy haze. We were exhausted when we stepped out into the bitter cold winds of Puerto Natales once more and were somewhat dubious about returning to the hostal that had looked after us so badly, though with our bags there and the late time had little choice. However, when we did arrive we were given the only room with a double bed- no way anyone else would be joining us tonight- and were surrounded by a pleasant group of fellow backpackers who had also just completed the trek today, though returned earlier than us it seems. After a satisfying meal we huddled together in a still very cold room and were soon fast asleep.