The Lakes District, Chile

We left Puerto Natales and caught a short 3 hour bus to Punta Arenas, which is the furthest South we're going on this trip. There really isn't much to say about our stay there. It's a small town, which was pretty much shut up due to it being a Sunday (seriously, I swear I saw some tumbleweed). James made the comment that it's the way that things used to be in the UK before Sunday trading laws came about.

Despite the fact that there appeared to be no-one in the town, we had a spot of trouble trying to find a hostel. We ended up at Backpackers Paradise Hostel, which I have to say must have been named with tongue firmly in cheek as it was the worst hostel we've stopped at so far. Apparently the town has some kicking nightlife, but as the only night we were there was a Sunday we were destined not to see it.

The next day we caught a 2hr flight out of there and to Puerto Montt, which saved us from having to endure a 36hour bus ride. Sky Airlines is a budget airline here, and we found them to be pretty good - no queues, no additional charges for baggage, small meal on the plane and reasonably priced (although some Aussies who'd flown with them later told us that they'd had a bit of a hair-raising plane ride). On the way we managed to see some humongous ice fields way below us.

We didn't stick around in Puerto Montt, and from the brief glimpse we caught of it we were pretty glad that we'd decided to catch the local bus straight to Puerto Varas. We found a cosy hostel, and as it was so late we opted for a liquid dinner. There were some great little bars in the town, and the best one was right across from the hostel; it had decent beer, was cheap and played good music.

Alas, the day after was really grey and rainy, but we couldn't complain as it was the only bad day out of 5 weeks. Early afternoon we went for a walk along the shores of Lake Llanquihue, and already the weather had started to improve.

The following day we took the local bus to Ensenada and Petrohué to get a closer look at Volano Osorno, which can be seen from across the lake at Puerto Varas. On the way we hopped off the bus to see Saltos del Petrohué. The sweet little walk was totally crawling with local tourists and any charm was lost amongst the crowds. The tiny waterfall was very pretty though, especially because of the luminous blue of the water gushing through the gnarled black rocks. The "peace" was also punctuated by the noise of the overpriced speed boat ride which took you near to the falls. After the splendor of Iguaçu it all seemed a bit crazy that such a fuss was being made, but I suppose at least the Chileans were making the most out of this natural beauty spot.

Whilst we found the saltos to be a little underwhelming, Petrohué itself really did have the wow factor. A short walk from the bus stop took you to a black, volcanic, sandy beach and the pristine clear waters of the Todos Los Santos lake, and all of this was set against the backdrop of lush green mountains. Cutting back inland, we walked along a shady path with stunning views of the volcano.

The next morning we left for Pucón, which we'd heard mixed reviews about. People had told us that it was completely touristy, but after experiencing El Calafate we thought it wasn't half bad. We went for a casual saunter though town and spent time on the incredibly busy beach during the dazzlingly sunny afternoon. We had really wanted to book the hike up Volcán Villarica for the following morning, but were advised that the weather wouldn't be very good for this.

Instead we opted to get up early and catch the bus to the Parque National Huerquehue for a day of hiking - we just hadn't done enough in the last few weeks! We took a trail which was relatively strenuous to begin with, but once it flattened out we discovered some beautifully tranquil lakes that were so much quieter than any beauty spots we'd found in other national parks. Seven hours later and we found ourselves back on the bus to Pucón, tired but really satisfied. That night we met three Aussie guys from the Gold Coast who were due to go up the volcano with us the next morning.
At 3:45am the following morning we woke up to get ready for our 4am departure. A bumpy ride took us partway up the volcano, but we would still have around 1400m to scale over the next few hours, most of which would be in the dark. Armed with head torches and pickaxes, we were on our way.

To begin with I was feeling pretty good, although I knew I was working hard. Some others began to fall back from the main group, but I was managing to keep up. However, slowly but surely I could feel the energy drain from my legs, and I started to fall behind myself. I think that the 3 weeks of on-and-off trekking were starting to take it's toll, and I felt as if I was really starting to struggle. The wind was not helping, blowing against our bodies and making my eyes stream.

As we continued to climb the sun began to rise, and we made sure that we took plenty of stops to enable us to enjoy the view. The valley, which was filled with 2 large lakes and 3 other volcanic peaks, began to be illuminated with the first rays of the morning. It was so gorgeous that James couldn' t help but be snap happy with the camera.

We reached the bottom of the ice and stopped. The guide way up front spoke to the leader of our pack to advise that the winds were too strong to continue. We waited around just in case the conditions improved. In the meantime a couple of the Aussies donned their crampons and continued with one of the guides to attempt to get further. 20mins later they were back down to our level - once they had reached the ridge above us the winds whipped up even stronger.

It was then that we realised that it was Valentines Day, and James told me that the climb was his present to me. Who said that romance dies once you're married?!

After around 45mins the guides made the decision to turn back. Most of the group were bitterly disappointed, but I'll admit that I was a little worried about being able to complete the climb in the first place. By this point the Volcano was spewing sulphur at an incredible rate, and all of it was heading in our direction, we were even able to taste it.

So, down we climbed, at a much greater speed than we went up, as we returned via scree slopes which cushioned your weight and made it nearly impossible to fall. James was running down some of the sections, and the nutty Aussies were racing each other down.

For the rest of the day we were cream-crackered from the early morning rise. We promised ourselves a mid afternoon siesta, but that never materialised. Instead we ended up walking to the other end of the town where the boats were moored up on the lake. There we stayed, baking in the sun with the Volcano looking down on us triumphantly; we had been unable to conquer it.

That Valentines night we booked a trip to the hot springs. Bumbling down the dimly lit path, we weren't really sure what to expect. We got changed in little wooden huts, which were suspended over the hot pools and had ladders directly leading down into the water. It was a lot busier than we had anticipated, but there was a great atmosphere and we were always able to find a cosy corner to ourselves.

There were 4 pools, each with different temperatures. The last one was by far the hottest, and we could only bathe in there for 5 minutes before needing to jump out again. There we floated, watching the magnificent starry night and watching for shooting stars. We also shared a bottle of red that we had taken with us. This was incredibly relaxing and far more romantic than our 4am hike.

The day after we said goodbye to Pucón. We'd had fun there and had been pleasantly surprised about how nice the town was. Next we were to catch the bus to Chile's capital city, and my friend Johann's home town, Santiago.

Torres Del Paine (day five)

The alarm rang out at 3:45am. What? Already? But I'd hardly slept a wink... My mind had been racing when I'd clambered into my bag the night before, and had kept me awake like a group of noisy Chilean campers. Then when I finally had dropped off I kept waking up in fear of over-sleeping. I felt totally sapped of energy from the 8hrs+ of trekking and climbing the day before, and the cold that was seeping slowly into the tent was not very inviting. It was then that I made the decision that I would not join the others for their crazy sunrise escapade.

As I tried (in vain) to fall back to sleep, the others all started on their way back up the mountain. Funnily enough they decided to climb over the boulders rather than up the scree wall, but at 4am and with no food inside them they still found it really heavy going. After all their sterling effort lady luck was not with them. They were greeted with wind, rain and plenty of cloud. The towers, which should've been shining like scarlet beacons, were shrouded in think, grey, woollen clouds. They'd taken up their stoves and sleeping bags, and so defended themselves from the cold by wrapping up behind large rocks and slipping hot soup.

Tired and disappointed they returned to camp. Rather than feeling smug about not going up myself, I felt frustrated for them. At least we'd managed to see them the night before though.

After packing up we made a swift exit. James was particularly keen to get to the park entrance and get it over with. I think that the promise of a cold beer was also another pull for him to finish quickly. Dean asked us to continue without him again, as he could see that James was a man on a mission, and didn't want to put too much strain on his knee. Tiggy and Jess joined us as we picked up the pace. It started to rain gently, and we were all thankful that this had been the only bad weather we'd seen the whole trip.

We managed to do the 4hr hike in around 2.5hrs. Even the skies turned blue to hail our return. I don't think any of us have ever been so happy to see a bar. We'd just finished using the bathrooms and buying our beers when Dean walked in, only around quarter of an hour after us. He quickly bought himself a beer too, and we toasted our success of managing to do the "W". We all felt tired but pretty good, and I even felt like I could've continued on and done the extra couple of days of the circuit if we'd had the supplies and the time (something that I never thought I'd say in a million years).


The minibus came to take us to the main buses out of the park. We all piled on and started off down the bumpy road, only to discover that it had a puncture. Luckily the cavalry appeared in the form of 2 other minibuses, and we made it in just enough time to catch the bus back to Puerto Natales. We even managed to meet back up with Daniel on the bus home. He'd completed the "W" with a couple of other guys from Brazil.

We checked back into the Erratic Rock Hostel, but this time we were lucky enough to get into the main hostel, which was much nicer. We shared a hearty dinner of steak and loads of veggies with Dean, which our bellies very much appreciated. We even managed to squeeze in a cheeky bottle of wine. That night we slept like babies; those beds felt like lying on fluffy clouds in comparison to our camping equipment.

Torres Del Paine (day four)

We awoke feeling refreshed. Both of us had managed to get a cracking night of sleep, and still had a warm glow in our bellies from the delicious meal the night before. This was further topped up by some yummy porridge too.

Alas, Dean did not feel the same. His knee really was playing up, and his disturbed sleep had not helped matters. He told us that he was thinking about hanging around for another day at the Refugio and then the day after just hiking the shorter distance to the park entrance. We were gutted both for him and ourselves. He had so badly wanted to see the towers in the park, which we were due to see first thing the next day. Plus it'd been nice having him around to share the experience with him. We gave him a little longer to think about it before we set off, just in case he changed his mind. 45mins later, and he decided to try for the next camp, but in his own time, and urged us to go on ahead without him. As we were setting out about an hour later than intended the two of us set out at a relatively quick pace.

The walk took us along the lower right hand of the "W", which was pretty up and down to begin with, but with beautiful vistas over the lake. Then, just as it was my turn for the big backpack, we hit the incline we knew was coming. At first it was steady, but gradually it became steeper, until my muscles were burning from the climb and the extra weight. 40mins later things began to flatten out, at which point James had the bag, and I realised that I had carried it through the hardest part of the day! I felt quite proud of my achievement, as there was no way that even a week ago that I would've been able to manage it.

As we entered another valley the path was precarious. On the right hand side was a sheer drop, and if someone was to fall over the edge they'd be in pretty serious trouble. The views were very lovely though, and soon we had reached a midpoint Refugio. It was here that we bumped into someone that we'd met in BA, and after a quick catch up with him and a break we were on our way again.

We reached the campamento in just five and a half hours - about 2 hours quicker than we´d anticipated. We set up camp and lay on our mats watching the other trekkers drip in and set up. Once Jess and Tiggy got there we started to talk about the towers. The cloud was clearing from the mountain tops, and as we all felt so good after the days hike we wondered whether it would be worth trying to see the towers that afternoon - after all the weather maybe really bad in the morning and we may not get to see them at all. We all agreed it would be a good idea, so off we trot for more hard work.

We'd been told by several people that the trail was hard, but worth it. It wasn't too bad at the start, but then we hit an arrow that wasn't clear in which direction it was pointing. We went the way we thought it was, which ended up being a steep slope of slippery scree, now loving referred to as "the slope of death". It was a case of taking four or five quick steps, to slide back down two paces. It drained our energy, and we were all cursing under our breath. It was then that we saw other people on the other side of the stream, miles away, and realised that we'd gone totally the wrong (and much harder) way.
It took us twice as long as it should've done, and path we took spat us out around 50m higher than where we should've ended up. The winds were intense up there, but it gave us a thrilling view of the mighty towers and magnificent glacial lagoon.

After taking a few snaps from up above we thought we'd try to descend to where we should've been. This was almost as challenging as "the slope of death", and sure enough I ended up on my arse again (you should see the rainbow bruises I got!). The official mirador gave a different, but no less impressive, perspective of this striking sight. It was here that we bumped into the Brazilian couple we'd met on the first night, who told us that Dean had not only made it to our campamento, but that he was intending to climb the towers tonight!

Sure enough, as we clambered down the official path, Dean's head appeared amongst the massive boulders. We were both surprised and really pleased to see that his knee had held out to get him all the way here, and even happier that he was able to realise his dream. We agreed to meet him back at camp and get the dinner on for his return.

Another night, and another dinner spent with Jess and Tiggy. We were also joined by an American guy who was really into his outdoor activities and hiking. He was intending to do the circuit in the same time as it had taken us to do the "W", which would be a real achievement. Anyway, Dean made it back to us in one piece, and we all chatted about the day we'd had.

The idea was that we'd all get up at 4am to see the sunrise on the towers but, after the ridiculous scramble up there that afternoon, doubt had begun to set into my mind. However, I did ask James to set the alarm for me, and if I was feeling good, I would join them for their early morning climb.

Torres Del Paine (day three)

Our third day of trekking would see us making our way up through one of the most beautiful parts of the "W", the Valle Francés.

We arose from our sleeping bags at 6.30am, feeling quite tired from our Chilean invasion, cooked up our breakfast (packet soup...yum) and started our climb up into the valley.


It soon became apparent why this is such a highly anticipated walk, as the views were immediately spectacular. We made our way closer to the glaciers that lay on the side of Cerro Principal and had an elevated view of the lakes and mountains to our rear from where we started. After a hard hours climb we reached our first lookout, which was pretty awe inspiring. A lot of people stop at this part of valley, but we opted to carry on deeper into the valley to see what the other viewpoint had to offer.

After another hour, which ended in a very steep 15 minute climb, we reached to final lookout point, and our efforts would not go unrewarded. We found ourselves surrounded by soaring granite spire peaks, all with complete vertical faces, a rock climbers utopia. The landscape was actually very intimidated as it loomed right over you at such a huge height it made you feel pretty small and insignificant.
As it was trying to drizzle a bit we didn't stay up there for too long, and made our way back down to camp. Unfortunately the steep decline too it's toll on Dean, and flared up a pre-existing condition. By the time we got back to camp he was feeling pretty bad. We had a long rest there, before breaking up camp and setting off to the next Refugio.

We took things pretty steadily to try and save Dean's knee, and we even offered to carry the heavy bag for longer periods so that he wouldn't need to put unnecessary pressure on it. Ironically it was Mel who lost her footing in the steep and slippery conditions, and landed straight on her bum, rolling around on the floor with the heavy backpack on like a beetle stuck on it's back, laughing her head off.

We reached the Refugio in good time, and were able to find a couple of really great places to pitch our respective tents. We were also able to grab much needed hot showers, which felt so good after a couple of days sweaty trekking without one!

Dinner at the Refugio was spent in the company of Tiggy and Jess again. The three course meal was far superior in this Refugio, and we all raved about it afterward. We hung around in there talking for a while, but eventually agreed that our sleeping bags were calling, especially as Dean needed to rest his knee. Besides, we also knew that we had the longest day of hiking ahead of us.

Torres Del Paine (day two)

We awoke feeling pretty good after the first day of trekking. Much to our surprise our muscles felt fine, and I guess that the filling meal from the night before and hot shower all added to the general feeling of well-being. James was up early and had got the porridge oats going on our little stove. Despite it weighing a tonne in the backpack, the porridge was well worth the investment as this gave us plenty of energy to start off the second day onslaught.

As Daniel wanted to take things at his own pace he told the three of us to continue on our way. So Dean, James and I set out nice and early as intended.

We had to backtrack down the trail on which we'd come the day before, but managed to shave a bit of time off. We stopped at the Refugio Mountain Lodge Paine Grande for us to have a break and a fill up on dried fruit and nuts and for James to have a cheeky shower . Unbelievably we stopped there for about an hour, and so hit the trail pretty hard to try and gain some time back.

The bottom of the lefthand side of the "W" takes you past a beautiful lake with the backdrop of Cerro Este and Cerro Norte, two toned towers of rock. We clambered up some rocks to get a better point of view and take some pictures. Tiggy and Jess walked past at that moment and we called them up to enjoy the breathtaking view.

The rest of the trail to Campemento Italiano was pretty easy, it was only when we drew nearer to the camp that we had to cross an Indiana Jones-style rope bridge, on which only 2 people were allowed at once. I crossed with a girl behind me, who seemed not to care that she was shaking the bridge up and down, and I had visions of me falling over the edge with the heavy rucksack and being swept away by the forceful glacial water below!

The campground was pretty huge, but we had got there early to find a good pitch. It was one of the CONAF ran sites, which meant it was free, but without services. They did, however, have flushing toilets, which means we didn't have to go through another Fitz Roy moment.

The three of us plus Tiggy and Jess, decided to cook and eat our dinner down by the river. This was such a good move. Not only was it really soothing with the fast flowing water by our side, but we were also able to watch Cerro Principal. Every so often huge slices of the glacier on top would come tumbling down creating an avalanche of ice and snow, and the sound would rumble through the valley like a long clap of thunder. It really was fastinating to watch.
When we got back to camp we discovered that we had been totally invaded by a group of Chileans. They had virtually pitched their tents over the top of ours, with an obstacle course of guide ropes and rocks at the entrance of our tent. James and I escaped back to the waters edge for a bit of peace and to watch the gorgeous sunset. The mountains had been painted the same colour of the sky, licked with reds, pinks and oranges. It was one of the most beautiful sunsets we'd ever seen.

We thought we had better get to bed, as we'd heard that the hike through the valley was pretty heavy going, and that we'd need all the strength we could. Unfortunately the Chileans did not feel the same way, and were up until stupid o'clock talking and laughin loudly. Ah, the joys of camping continue....!

Puerto Natales, Chile - Torres Del Paine (day one)

We arrived in Puerto Natales after a 5 hours bus journey from El Calafate, which included an hour at the border crossing completing all the necessary paperwork and getting our entry and exit stamps.

After talking to Dean on the bus journey and reading the Lonely Planet we opted to go and stop at the Erratic Rock Hostel. This hostel was a hang out for trekkers and climbers heading out to Torres Del Paine, so we figured we would be able to rent all the equipment necessary and get any questions we had answered. Unfortunately the Erratic Rock had no beds available at the main hostel, but they did in their annex, so we made our way to there.

At 3pm an American guy called Rustyn (a part owner of the Erratic Rock Hostel) was giving a talk on trekking around Torres Del Paine, which lasted around an hour and covered everything you would need to know when going there. After an hour or so Rustyn had convinced us that what we had planned was not necessarily the best way of seeing the park, so we changed our plans completely!

After the talk had finished Dean approached Mel and I and asked wheather he could join us on the trek, and of course we agreed.

After an couple of hours hunting around the shops of Puerto Natales we had found the food necessary to see us through our five day trek. It basically consisted of porridge and packet soup for breakfast, a huge bag of Trail Mix (dried fruit and nuts) for lunch, and packets of dried ready meal pasta for evening meals, plus a few biscuits each for dessert.

We got back to the hostel in the evening, cooked our last decent meal for a while and had a bottle of wine, before packing the bags for our trek. This took us until 1am as everything had to be wrapped in black binliners and zip lock bags to ensure it was all waterproof, and we had to be up at 6am to catch the bus to Torres Del Paine - not great preperation!

We arose the following morning with a spring in our step, all really excited about what the next 5 days had in store for us. We jumped on the bus and before we knew it we could see the peaks of the Parque Nationale.
As a result of Rustyn's talk, we decided to take the Catamaran across Lago Pehoé and start our trek from Mountain Lodge Paine Grande. From here we heading North for 5hrs towards Glacier Grey and campsite site next to the glacier where we would spend the night. We also managed to add another to our party, a Brazillian guy called Daniel who had also been stopping at the annex.

The trek was fairly easy going with only a couple of uphill sections, which were pretty short. After about 3 hours of trekking we come to our first Mirador, which looked our over the whole of Glacier Grey. The glacier was huge and forked into the lake with 3 different prongs. Floating serenely in the lake were huge icebergs which had once been part of the glacier, but had broken off as the glacier continues its journey down the valley into the lake. All in all it was a pretty stunning view.

After another 2 hours of trekking we arrived at the campsite, which was situated on the shores of Lago Grey under a canopy of trees. We set up our tent and after spent an hour or two sitting on the ricks next to lake watching the icebergs gently glide past.

That night we opted to eat in the Refugio, which meant a three course meal, rather than instant pasta. During the meal we met a lovely couple from Manchester, Tiggy and Jess, who we spent the evening chatting to about both of our travels through South America.


Later we huddled around the stove drinking cups of hot chocolate with Dean, Daniel and a really great Brazillian couple we'd met. There were hundreds of mosquitoes and other flying insects in the air as the sun set. Unlike their Brazillian counterparts, these Chilean mosquitoes seemed to be attracted to me rather than Mel, and were taking chunks out of me at will.

We agreed to go to bed early as we wanted an early start the next day. Typically South American, Daniel wasn't too sure about the early rise and swift departure, and so said he'd see how he felt in the morning.

El Calafate and El Chalten

It was quite an effort to get to our next destination. We took an 18 hour bus journey to Rio Gallegos, waited for 5 hours for our connecting bus, and then continued on for another 5 hours.

El Calafate is a strange town, which is purely there as a tourist springboard to the sights surrounding it. The streets consist of chocolate shops, ice-cream palours, restaurants and bars, which may sound like heaven to some, but in reality it gave it a bit of a souless feel. We managed to find a good campground on the outskirts of town situated by a pretty stream - they even offered us our third night for free which was a real bonus for our tight purse strings.

The next day we caught the bus to the Perito Moreno glacier. The Argentinians have recently constructed new and extensive walkways on the hill directly opposite the glacier, which enables joe public to view the colossal lump of ice from different vantage points. We were blown away by the utter size of the glacier, which put the one that we had walked on in Canada to shame. It is one of the few glaciers in the world that is not receeding, which means that whole chunks can, and do, fall off without having an impact on it´s size. It seemed to be alive, and we stood for four hours, watching this beast creak and crack. Every so often pieces of ice the size of tower blocks would sheer from it's face, smashing into the water below with gut wrenching, thunderous noise echoing throughout the valley. We even heard, but didn't see, pieces dropping into the mighty cravasses inside this awesome icecube. It really was quite something.

The day after I was feeling pretty lousy with a stinking cold - the journeys had finally caught up with me. Still, we caught the bus to El Chatlen, which was only about 3 hours away, and we expected the scenery to melt away any feelings of ill health. James also promised me a nice easy day of walking to begin with. We stopped at the entrance of the National park, where we had a really useful talk from a guy from the visitors' centre. He furnished us with a map of the different trails we could do.

James formulated a plan - we would leave the bulk of our things at a campsite in town, hike up to another one just at the base camp of Fitz Roy mountain, set up camp there and then continue to the lagoon just at the peak's base. As we had limited time there and I wanted us to make the most of it I agreed.

The start of the climb was pretty tough. The hour of walking uphill coupled with my cold left me wheezing, but after this initial push it seemed to flatten out. We reached the lookout after another hour or so, which granted us a great, but far away, view of the Fitz Roy peak. It helped that we were blessed with glorious sushine. This boosted us to push on for a further two hours hike, which took us to the basic campsite nestled in the woods.

We pitched out tent and emptied most of our daypacks in preparation for the final ascent of the day. We had been told at the talk that this section was not only challenging because of the gradient, but also quite dangerous in parts because of the loose rubble. He was not wrong. The first part was tough, but then it got harder and harder, until eventually we had to scramble up the last section. I'm hoping that it was my illness, and not my level of fitness, meant that the supposed one hour climb turned into an hour and a half.

At the top we were superbly rewarded by a view of the lagoon, formed by glacial, milky blue water, with Fitz Roy soaring high from the waters edge, and the peak crowned with the setting sun. Turning our backs to this was just as stunning, as we had risen so high that we were given an eagle eyed view of the valley.

The descent was even more hair-raising, and I my trusty walking poles saved me on more than one occasion. We managed it down in one piece, and sat by the river to eat our sandwiches. So much for the easy first day, huh?! The sun was dropping low in the sky, and the temperature was dropping even quicker. We looked enviously at the people around with campstoves, cupping their hands around steaming cups of soup. We decided to make an early night of it, and wrapped ourselves in our sleeping bags in an attempt to get warm.

At around 2am my eyes shot open, or at least I thought they did. It was so pitch black in the tent that I couldn't even see the outline of James lying next to me. It was cold, and I was surprised that the down sleeping bag hadn't been able to warm up my bones. I also needed the toilet, but there were several things stopping me. Obviously it was bloody freezing, and the thought of getting out of my sleeping bag was pretty horrendous. Secondly, even with my head torch, the depth of the night's dark was all a bit too Blair Witch for my liking. Lastly (and probably my biggest reason) was that the toilet, and I use that word very loosely, was disgusting. Seriously, I have seen some pretty gross toilets at festivals in my time, but this took the biscuit. It was a cubicle with a hole in the ground - that in itself wasn't too bad, it was the fact that more than a couple of people obviously had digestive problems and had missed the rather large target. Anyway, I think you get the picture...

The next morning we got up and got moving in an attempt to warm up. We walked a less popular trail, which links the two main hikes of the park and takes in the "Mother" and "Daughter" lakes. This was a much easier start to the day. After a couple of hours we linked in with the second trail, which lead to the Laguna Torres, another impressive glacial lagoon. We stopped for lunch here, and basked in the sun. James fished out a chunk of glacier which had broken off and floated near the shore; I was poised with my camera in case he fell in.

We made our way back into town, which took another 4 hours, and despite me feeling a bit dodgy, we'd had a really great couple of days hike. We set up camp where we'd left our bags, and then went on a mission to find some heartwarming grub. We were not to be disappointed, and managed to find a hostel restaurant which served cheap and delicious dishes with huge portions. We both opted of lasagne, but I'll admit that it was so meaty that uncharacteristically I was unable to finish it, and not even James could bring himself to polish it off. It was just what we needed.

The next day we spent chilling and walking around the town. We hadn't been in contact with the outside world for a number of days, but there wasn't anywhere that we could use a computer without having to take out a bankloan. In a way that was pretty liberating, as traveling and updating can get pretty full on, but we also knew that it would mean a mass update when we eventually were able to find internet access.

We left for our return to El Calafate early evening; once there we headed straight for our campsite. On the way we bumped into Dean (the one from Rio who had forgotten his boots). It turned out that he was catching the same bus as us in the morning to Puerto Natales - we all agreed what a small world it was.

We decided to eat at the campsite restaurant as they had great food at a reasonable price. We were the only ones in there, which was fine to begin with. Then, one-by-one, a group of musicians strarted to set up to the side of us. They were playing for the evening, and had probably hoped that they would have more than an audience of two. They awkwardly joked that it would be like a serenade. They were pretty good, but as a fellow musician I really felt for them, especially as we had to leave early due to an early morning departure the next morning.

That night the campground was noisy. One of the blokes in a tent near to us was drinking and talking really loudly. This in turn was sending all the stray dogs completely loopy, and they were chasing each other around the tents, growling and yelping. By 4am people in the tents around us started to hurl abuse at him, and eventually a man from the tent next to us gave the bloke such a dressing down that it managed to silence him...for a while. At 6am he started up again, but this time he was just making a loud wailing noise about once a minute. Luckily we were due to get up to catch the bus anyway, and when we did we found a sea of beer, wine and spirit bottles all around the ground. By that point we were pretty happy to see the back of the campsite and get on the bus for Puerto Natales and the crossing into Chile.

Puerto Madryn - Northern Patagonia, Argentina

Another 17 hour bus journey, filled with flat, barren and uninspiring landscapes, brought us to the little city of Puerto Madryn. This Welsh settlement is a gateway to the wildlife found on the Argentinian east coast, and so we were pretty excited about the excursions to follow.

The bus dropped us in the windswept city, and we had originally planned to stop in the campsite situated 4km outside of the centre. We caught a local bus, which dumped us about 800m downhill from the campsite entrance. This had to be the longest 800m of our lives. The intense winds whipped the sands up from the beach, and shot-blasted us from head to toe, stinging our exposed limbs and faces. I swear that it look the top layer of skin off too, but it was the most unpleasant exfoliating experience that I´ve ever tolerated.

To our dismay when we arrived at the campsite, we discovered that they didn´t have room to store our oversized backpacks. Instead of braving the sandstorm again we took the easy option and caught a taxi back into town. After wandering about we found a couple of beds at a friendly little hostel, and booked our trips for the following days.

Punta Tomba is just south of Puerto Madryn, and houses the largest penguin colony outside of the Antarctic. It gave us the opportunity to see these wonderful creatures in their natural environment. We learnt that the monogomous penguin couple will have two young ones per family, and at the moment the babies are still in the nest.

A long pathway greeted us at the entrance of the national park, and before long we started to spot the little birds on each side. We were amazed that they seemed totally unfazed by humans, and would waddled across our paths like miniture Charlie Chaplins. We also couldn´t believe just how up close and personal we were able to get to them, including to the nests with the two fluffy babies. We watched on in delight as they clumsily walked to and from the ocean, whilst their young hungrily fought for the regurgitated food.

On the way back the bus stopped at another Welsh settlement called Gaiman. It was very strange to see the Welsh flag flying everywhere, and it was obvious that they were fiercely proud of their heritage. We stopped at one of the very expensive, old-fashioned, Welsh teahouses. Luckily we decided to only order "one service" between the two of us. The tray that she brought over was ladened with breads, scones, jams and delicious cakes aplenty, and all of this was washed down with a huge pot (complete with a cosy!) of traditional tea. We managed to roll ourselves back onto the bus for the ride back to the hostel.

Our second excursion took us North to Penínsular Valdés. Much to our disappointment we were a bit early in the year for Orca spotting, but there was plenty of other wildlife to be seen. Our first encounter was with the large and rather aggressive lion seals. They were violently territorial over their tiny strips of sand, and their roars could be clearly heard from our elevated position. There also appeared to be a little nursery of pups grouped together, which looked much cuter then their adult counterparts.

Next stop took us to see more penguins. This was a much, much smaller colony, but they were different as their nests clung to the side of a steep cliff.

Finally we stopped to see the elephant seals. These big lumps idley lounged in the sun, occasionally flicking stones over their blubber in order to cool down. The funniest moments were when they tried to caterpillar their way towards the shore. They would exert so much effort into wriggling forward, and suddenly stop just a couple of feet from the sea as if unable to muster up enough energy to reach the water, and just lollop back down and rest.

Needless to say we loved our time in and around Puerto Madryn, but we were looking forward to our travels further south which would take us into the heart of Patagonia.