After a fantastic time at the end of the world we slowly
started to make our way up through Patagonia. A 13-hour bus ride took us to
Puerto Natales in Chile. It’s a cute little town but the main attraction lies
outside of it: Torres del Paine National Park! A Mecca for hikers and we were
about to find out if our bodies and minds were up to this challenge. Initially
we planned a 4-day hike through the national park to see the Glacier Grey and
the Valle del Frances. This was going to be our first proper hike and due to
the winter temperatures in Southern Patagonia we didn’t really want to camp, so
the only option for us was to stay in the ‘Refugio Paine Grande’. Unfortunately
the management of this refugio pretty much doubled the prices only a couple of
days before we left for our hike (welcome to South America) and therefore we
decided to only stay in the park for 3 days.
We were a little nervous when we were dropped off at an open
field, not really knowing where we had to go; if this guy would really come
back to pick us up in 3 days and if we were even going to get back there in
time…. Luckily we ran into two Brazilian guys at the very beginning of the
trek: Rodrigo and Rodrigo! The Rodrigos were on a big trekking trip through
Patagonia and had some great stories to tell, which made us not even really
notice the 18kms that we had to walk. The first few hours of the trek were over
an open field and Patagonia’s famous wind was BLOOOOOOOOWING! We had the wind
in our faces for most of the way and Rich was not happy that his
wind-breaker-beard hadn’t fully developed in time… About 1 ½ hours away from
the refugio, we arrived at Lago Pohoe. What an amazing sight! An incredibly
turquoise lake (due to the glacier water) surrounded by scrubs and trees in red
and orange and a massive mountain in the back that disappears in clouds. WOW!
Unfortunately some (or quite a lot) of this amazing landscape was destroyed by
a big fire in December when a trekker tried to burn his toilet paper... '
The whole area around the Refugio Paine Grande is burnt but
miraculously the refugio didn’t get touched (only the camp site and its
amenities got destroyed). So luckily we were able to have a roof over our heads
for the next two nights and after 5 ½ hours of hiking we were rather happy to
arrive. Our enthusiastic ‘hola’ unfortunately didn’t get returned by the guy
who was looking after the place and we got a rather unfriendly introduction
telling us that the Rodrigos weren’t allowed to camp (even though this is still
marked as a camp site on maps and the next camp site is more than 2 hours
away); that staying there was expensive; that we wouldn’t get anything for our
money apart from a mattress and shower and that we could cook food outside in
the rain. Shame we were told we could use the kitchen and didn’t bring a stove…
Rich and I managed to sweet talk the guy into using the kitchen but the
Rodrigos weren’t as lucky and had to quickly move on since it was getting dark
(the poor guys had to walk through the pitch dark for 2 hours!). Staying at
this place was rather interesting. In summer, the refugio sleeps about 100
people (+250 campers) but we had this place to ourselves! We cooked in the
professional kitchen and had a little conversation with the park ranger (who
was cooking half a cow) using the 40 words of Spanish we knew (Yay, we doubled
our vocabulary since Buenos Aires). Then
we retreated into our sleeping bags, still wearing our thermals, beanies and
gloves since the refugio wasn’t heated.
When we woke up at 8.30am it was still dark outside and
inside – power only works from 6pm-11pm. We put on our many layers of thermals
and Goretex and went on a 22km hike from the refugio to the Valle del Frances. At
Camp Italiano we ran into the Rodrigos and continued the hike with them. When
we were filling up our bottles at a waterfall we heard some very loud thunder: an
avalanche was coming down on the other side of the valley! Another WOW moment! The
weather wasn’t that great and it was rather cloudy but just as we reached the
mirador/lookout, the clouds opened and presented an amazing mountain range. Perfect!
The wind at the mirador was intense but up there on the mountains it must have
been incredible…
That night we were joined by Angela, Joe and Max who we had
already met at the hostel in Puerto Natales. They managed to get the refugio
guy to light a fire, so we could sit around for a little while and dry our
sweaty clothes – yes, even Patagonia’s winter can make you sweat!
The next morning we woke up to a blizzard. Perfect
conditions for the 18km hike back to ‘administracion’ where we were going to be
picked up J The
snow was shooting past us horizontally as we were stumbling along the first few
kilometres but I must say, apart from the glacier, avalanche and mountain
range, this was another highlight of our hike! The weather then cleared up and
we walked through a beautifully transformed landscape. Just 5 minutes before we
reached our destination the snow started again turning me into a penguin within
seconds.
I really loved this hike and even my feet forgave me
quickly! I think Rich will need to speak for himself, so here you go:
First of all, I was forced to write on this blog as I was
forced to go to Torres del Paine. Secondly, my account is more of an accurate
description of what had transpired. Charly had mentioned above that ‘Torres del
Paine National Park! A Mecca for hikers’…..Well I’m not a hiker…. I’m a
complainer and boy did I complain until my throat hurt, which was not long as
the 75km/h wind was drying every mucosal surface on/in my body. Charly also
mentioned that we met two Brazilians on the walk, which is true. They were
very nice and Brazilian but unlike Charly, my knees and ankles noticed the 18km
walk.
Our destination was the Refugio, a hotel nestled in the cuff if a
mountain range to protect from relentless wind. When we arrived, it was
seemingly empty yet it was open…. No one around. A hundred-bed hotel in the
middle of no where, no lights, no one around. A little strange to say the
least. Had everyone been eaten? I didn’t know. What I did know was that I was
tired and disgruntled so whatever beast existed in this horror film, I was
prepared to fight until I had a bed. In the fantastically empty void which was
the Refugio’s foyer I yelled out OLAH! No reply, the OLAH got louder. So loud
in fact that I became confident that I could swear in English and Spanish at
the top of my lungs, which I did. In
this time Charly and Brazilian number 1 had circled the hotel to find two guys
lying in separate beds in one of the rooms around the back. Were they dead? I didn’t
know. If they were we had to leave immediately! As we were discussing our next
move, a figure appeared out of the belly of the Refugio it was Diego Maradona.
A stout man, wearing
a shirt too small for his build and when he stretched I was able to see his
belly button with fluff in it. His demeanor reflected mine, confused as to why
anybody would venture out there in the tail end of autumn. As he started to dictate
the terms and conditions of the establishment, he passively disclosed that the
price had increased over night 70% and there was no power for 19 hours a day. I
was not happy and was only marginally able to hold my faculties together. 70%,
who did this fat personification of Diego Maradona think he was. In addition,
chubby Maradona stated that we were unable to use the kitchen facilities. My
angry disposition shifted gears. As the intensity of my rage increased he
cautiously mentioned ‘ife u don ike ehhh u can goa’. I realised immediately
that we were in his pocket, probably next to a hamburger. Diego’s hardline
approach seemed to weaken as he said that we would be able to use the kitchen facility.
Oh, so gracious I’m sure every one thought but not me. I knew exactly that it
was crafty political move or a move of self-preservation as I did not hide my
emotions and we were after all, in the middle of nowhere. The Brazilians left
and Charly and I checked in.
The first night was cold and with a screaming gust outside,
made most of the doors in the building slam and open. I was terrified and
Charly was asleep. For a straight hour I stared at the door, my mind ablaze
with every single ghost/insane host scenario possible. The art that decorated
the Refugio were early photographs of indigenous people of the area probably
displaced by Diego and his Refugio. The look on their faces resembled a person
planning revenge on backpackers. I was
ready to battle anything that would have entered our room with the aid of using
a sleeping Charly as armor. Its best if she didn’t know that way she would
have been easier to manoeuvre a ridged Charly would have been no good. Awaking the next morning and realising that we
couldn’t really tell if we had been murdered in our sleep we got ready for our
walk any way. For the next for four hours I stared at Charly’s heels as we
walked and walked and walked. We arrived at our destination, stayed for 3 mins,
Charly took 31 photos and then returned. 4 hours looking at heels.
The
following night was much more relaxed as I knew that Diego only wanted to be
left alone to eat pie and that the slamming doors were not demons. The next day
we woke up in a John Woo film. A blizzard had developed over night and was on
the war path. After acknowledging that it was in fact my first blizzard I
realised that we had to w
alk in it.
Enough is enough, I obviously survived so there really is no
need to keep waffling. I do hope that this
teaches Charly not to ask me again to contribute to the blog as Charly’s
reflection is more endearing. Did I mention the Dogs?.....
