Hammock's & farewell’s (day 26-39)

Day 26 - 39 (9th - 22nd Feb)
Chile: Puerto Natales
Argentina: El Calafate, El Chalten

The next morning I met up with the US girls for breakfast and coffee. We spent a bit of time exploring the town, visiting a few art galleries and artisan craft stores, taking in the sunshine and slow pace of a quiet Sunday. We went to a cafe on the lakeside for lunch and were joined by Simone who had been running some errands in the morning, before they had to pack their final bits up and head off by bus to Punta Arenas, starting their homeward journey. It tugged at my insides saying farewell to some excellent humans, but it wasn't a goodbye - definitely felt like our paths would cross again.

Simone and I went back to the hostel, packed up and got ready for our early bus the next day, then went out to the Mesita Grande one final time for pizza. We checked out the following morning, walked with our heavy packs to the bus terminal and settled in for our ride north across the border to El Calafate. We had seats on the bottom floor of a double decker which afforded an excessive amount of space for each passenger, and were at the border within 40 minutes. The 60+ customers filed out, queued up and got stamped out of Chile, then for some reason we sat on the bus and didn't move for over an hour. The bus crept forward half a mile to the Argentinian side, where we all filed out and were registered into the country, and sat there for another 30 minutes. After a few hours of driving through rain, then arid landscape with lots of nothing but open views and guanaco staring curiously from the plains round us, we arrived somewhere very much not on the way to El Calafate, and were told we had 10 minutes to hop out, use the loo and buy food before we continued. It was 15:00 and we should have been in El Calafate by 13:30, but we were still 1hr 30 away and a lot more east than made sense. I still have no idea why we took a 3 hour detour, nor why we spent 2 hours at the border but we did eventually arrive at our destination so I guess I'm just grateful for that. We checked in to our hostel then went to get ingredients for a mushroom stroganoff, which turned out very well.

The next few days were admin intensive, Leah had recommended Calafate Coffee Roasters who had their own industrial roasting facility and I think supplied many cafes in the town, had a selection of tasty food and very good coffee so we spent several days there. I caught up on my blog, Simone wrote her Polarstep entries, and I did a lot of planning for the next stages of my trip. I booked logistics to get myself back down to Ushuaia for the Antarctic expedition at the end of Feb, an onward flight up to Buenos Aires afterward, accommodation there and a flight/accommodation to Salta. I also spent time working out where I was likely to get to on my travels, and conceded that I didn't have time to get Ecuador and Colombia during this trip afterall, which was a huge shame to miss out on exploring the places Andrea, Pamela and Laura had suggested for me during our time in Istanbul. I would need to come back and see those places another day and didn't want to rush through the destinations I would visit along the way, but to see them properly. Three big ticket items for my trip to South America were to visit the Salt Flats of Bolivia, the Atacama Desert, and to walk the Inca Trail, so I scattered a handful of days around each of those and worked out that I wouldn't get further than Peru. With this realisation, I could finally book a flight from South America to Vancouver for my birthday, and had an end date for this portion of the trip. 

Following the hassle of sorting the last minute O-Circuit reservations, I decided it was worth looking into the availability of the Inca Trail as I knew it was limited with daily permits for walkers and porters, and would disappear quickly. Almost all of April was full, and I would be in Canada in May, March was too soon, so I had a very narrow window of chance to line it up. I found a company (Alpaca Expeditions) that was established by one of the porters that used to walk the Inca Trail, who could offer a slot starting the 4 day hike from 88km on the trail to the Sun Gate entrance into Machu Picchu at the start of April, they appeared to have a compassionate attitude toward their employees and gave a good feeling about the way they operated, so I booked it and was pleased to have that sorted.

After a few days of writing, drinking coffee and planning, Simone and I met up with Elena and Franco, got dinner and went to see some of the week long festival in town. One of the main attractions in El Calafate (if not the only..?!) was to see Perito Moreno Glacier which is 1hr20 out of town. The bus to get there from town was AR$50,000 and the entrance to the national park was AR$45,000. For two people that stacks up quickly, so we made a plan to hitch there early, hoping to avoid the charge of bus, and to cross into the National Park before the rangers got there. We set alarms and got up early, walked for an hour to be on the west side of town and stood at the side of the road at 06:00 with our thumbs out, hoping for it to pay off. After an hour of being ignored, and Simone being disheartened by each ‘rejection', it was clear that we had missed the window to get into the National Park for free, and that we maybe needed to reconsider our plan. Crestfallen, we walked back to the hostel, had breakfast and went back to bed for a reset.

With a week until my flight down to Ushuaia, we intended to go to El Chalten for some hiking after visiting the glacier, and getting there was AR$38,000 each way per person. The cost of buses to El Chalten, and the park entry to see Perito Moreno alongwith the price of the bus, for two, became expensive. All told it was pretty much AR$350,000 - which was car rental territory. With that in mind, and a pinch of desire for some freedom outside bus schedules, we agreed to hunt for a car rental, so scoured town for the best price. After finding something affordable, and discovering that it was significantly cheaper to rent in cash, which neither of us had, we then went on a cash finding mission. Traipsing around town without transport was pretty frustrating, made worse by the fact that of the 5 Western Union outlets in town, 4 of them had no money, and the 5th was an hours walk away. Eventually we got to the final Western Union, and couldn't get any Argentinian Peso, but could withdraw US dollars. Ridiculous. After confirming with the rental company that they would accept dollars, we were able to get cash and then get to the rental company before it shut, picked up the car and head back to the hostel. Having started at 05:00, and spent a full day banging our heads against every wall we could find, we had a car, a plan, and freedom.

The next morning, we set off early, picked up Elena and aimed to get into the National Park before it "opened", one of the factors of justifying the car rental. We arrived at the entrance at 07:20, and were met with a physical barrier across the road, a customer already parked there and a ranger holding his hand out, directing us to park up and wait until we could buy our tickets at 08:00 - bugger. Elena's brother had made her a fake student card image and sent it to her, which she had used and managed to get into the park earlier in the week. Inspired by this act and with 30 mins to kill, I logged into the National Park wifi, downloaded an image of a generic university student card and set to modifying it on my phone. I presented the digital card to the cashier which was very closely scrutinised, and passed to 3 other people. Eventually, I was asked whether I had anything else to accompany it, and was on the back foot with my attempt but remembered I had an alumni email asking for cash dated a month ago, so showed the university headed email, and was accepted as a current student - excellent! With a saving of AR$38,000 I got my ticket and sat waiting for the others, Elena was able to get a half price entry using her previous park ticket, and Simone was much more honest than either of us so got an ordinary ticket for the day's entry.

The road approaching Perito Moreno Glacier gave some early views of it as we wound through the hillside, stopping a couple of times to take it in. We parked up and went down to the beach which had a graveyard of calved icebergs slowly dissolving into oblivion, in a multitude of shapes and sizes. Looking back toward the glacier along the shoreline was a deep rich blue iceberg which Elena hadn't seen the previous day so must have calved overnight and turned to expose the dense glass-like underbelly.

As we walked along the raised platforms in the sunshine toward the source of the bergs, stopping at the viewing points to get a better look at Perito Moreno, a huge iceberg begun to shift. I had assumed one of the best views of the glacial front would have been to witness a calving, and it surely would have been - but the spectacle of witnessing something multiple times bigger than a stately home slowly rotate after its centre of gravity had shifted, exposing vast volumes of sapphire clear glass-like ice which reared up then cracked and shifted apart in front of us for 5 minutes, was incredible. We spent 3-4 hours walking along the platforms getting different perspectives of the glacier, reading a little about Perito Moreno (the man the glacier was named after), the glacial formations and technical information on the ice goliath, then had some packed lunch before heading back to El Calafate and picked up some hitchhikers on the way back.

The next morning Simone and I picked up Elena and Franco and head up to El Chalten, a hub for hiking and exploring in Patagonia. We stopped a few times on the 200km trip north to hop out and see some of the raw landscape, striations in mountains, guanaco and the deep turquoise lakes, before heading directly toward the mountains and arriving at the foothills of Fitz Roy. After a coffee and some orienteering of where things were in town, we checked in a hostel which was at the trailhead for the hike up into the national park. The plan was for Franco, Elena and I to spend a couple of nights in the national park after walking to the viewing point for Fitz Roy, with Simone intending to stay at the hostel each night and daytrip up to the same paths as she didn't have any camping kit with her. I cooked up a batch of veggie bolagnaise as everyone stripped their packs of unnecessary items for a few days on the hillside then we head to bed with early alarms set. We set off at dawn up the route with a mass of other early hikers in fairly cool but dry conditions. Whilst everyone else stopped to delayer after 5 minutes I was content in my choice to have begun a little under-dressed for the chilly start, knowing the climb would set my body temperature right. After 15 minutes of hiking it became fairly clear that there was a broad spread of pace amongst the 4 of us. I had been really looking forward to raising my heart rate after a week of coffee, cake and cafe goodies but didn't want to split the pack up. Eventually I conceded to Simone's request that I go on ahead as she knew I had been looking forward to something more challenging from this hike than a steady pace up the mountain. As compromise I'd wait at Laguna Capri which was 5km along the path, and set off. After an hour I got to the lake and begun to cool down quite quickly, so layered up, then 20 mins later Elena arrived and suggested we brew a cuppa so I got the stove out and cooked up some mint tea. After an hour had passed, we were fairly convinced the other two had taken the alternative route which bypassed the lake and continued on to Laguna De Los Tres, so we set off along the relative flat section until we got to the campsite positioned by a river at the foot of the final steep section. The others weren't here either, and I wasn't sure whether they were still behind or had managed a reasonably good pace to continue on ahead, but knowing it was an out and back, we would cross paths eventually.

Despite knowing we were coming back to the exact same spot after the climb, I decided to carry all my camping gear up the hill, as an opportunity to make things a little harder for myself and benefit from the cardio, then begun the final kilometer which doubled the gain from the start of the route to this point. After 40 mins I was at the top and looking out over Laguna De Los Tres toward Fitz Roy, feeling content I had worked for the view. There were quite a few hikers at the top, with it being one of the most popular day hikes in Patagonia, and very accessible from the town below. Elena arrived a short while after, as I looked around for Simone and Franco. After lunch and taking in the view, Simone arrived and was very proud of her pace up the mountain. Franco was soldiering on behind and met us as we begun to turn down, incredibly proud of his achievement. Knowing he'd want some time at the top we head back to the camp and waited for his arrival. Through a combination of mis-communication and varying mountaineering experience, it was clear we hadn't all been on the same page with the plans for the day, so after another couple of hours waiting and making tea to stay warm I went back up to find Franco, then helped with his luggage back to the others.

With the volume of time lost on the mountain between misunderstandings and different expectations, the original plan for hiking and camping was dropped, and we all set off back down the mountain to the hostel again. I had an uneasy feeling of frustration inside that I wanted to sooth, and was fully independent with the stuff I had carried with me, so after some internal hesitation, told the others that I was going to stay up and camp on the mountain that night, and that I would meet them at Laguna Torre in the morning instead.

I followed the banks of a river until I was out of sight, then found a spot with some trees that would support and conceal my hammock on the waters edge. After putting it up and testing the strength of the trees, I lay there a moment and realised someone was walking down the otherside of the river bank. I stayed still, and watched him. He walked quietly, carefully, looking at everything around him. I have no idea how he got there as there were no paths anywhere near him, he was mid-60s, at 19:00 on the mountain with no pack, the scene was odd. He looked directly toward me a few times but clearly hadn't seen me, which I found hard to believe, but took for granted that it was the case and hoped my discreet camp would go unnoticed. It's really interesting watching people who don't know they're being watched, seeing someone who has total anonymity with their action, lets you see who they really are without the effect of social obligation affecting anything they do. He was curious about the lightning struck tree which had died and dried, he looked at the rocky beach and the arrangement of stones, the plants, then he slowly walked away again once he'd exhausted the area.

Keen to see how hidden I had actually been, and whether he had acted or genuinely not seen me, I crossed the river and looked back at my hammock - invisible. It's a dark green DD Hammock with mozz net, and under the shade of the trees, without movement, had disappeared. Relieved I was very unlikely to be discovered and moved on, I pitched the tarp over a ridgeline, then cooked up some water for my freezedried dinner, made my bed and enjoyed the hours of quiet beside the river.

Some time in the night I woke to the noise of the wind and storm, but remained dry and safe, with my backpack tucked underneath my hammock, shoes hanging from the tarp ridgeline and the mozz net doing its bit to keep me bug free. The next morning I felt much better for having had the chance to do some camping and not factor in compromise or others plans. No one will begrudge me the honesty to say that even travelling with the kindest people you could meet, is an active balance of wants and moods, which can feel a little weary after a some time, so I think I had just been overdue some time on my own.

I packed everything away, brushed my teeth and picked up the trail again, across the back of the mountains toward Laguna Torre. It was a very quiet walk, I saw no one for 6km, as I stopped to have a cereal bar, launch my drone to get some footage of the park and photograph the thumbnail sized Eden Harbour Toads making use of the path in the morning light. The weather had been windy and rough in the night but hadn't affected my sleep, and had since calmed to a gentle quiet morning - ideal walking conditions. As I approached the junction with the route from El Chalten up to Laguna Torre, a couple people started heading toward Fitz Roy and past me, but the trail remained quiet. I got to the main trail and felt like I was stepping out onto a highway, queuing for narrow sections and having to manage my pace amongst the throngs of people approaching the lookout toward Glacier Torre. After 5km of hiking, I climbed up to the viewing point and looked around trying to spot Elena, Franco and Simone, who I was convinced must be here as I had woken late and assumed they'd have made another sunrise departure from the hostel. Unable to spot them anywhere I cooked up some porridge for breakfast/lunch and took in the scene for an hour or so. There was an option to walk a little further for a better view of the glacier, so I went part way up then begun my journey back to town in the baking sun. I decided I ought to wear my sunhat not just carry it, and lathered up with suncream as the sun beat down. After an hour and a bit I was out of water but not too far from the end, so carried on and got back to the hostel to discover no one was there either.

I checked in and spent a bit of time sorting out luggage/hostel admin when Simone messaged from the mountain to say she was on her way down. It transpired she had been further up viewing point ahead of me, and Elena had been there somewhere too. We went out for dinner that night and met a fun couple from Australia/Argentina as we tackled the very expensive but tasty burgers, remarking on the price of things in El Chalten being pretty much the pinnacle of cost in Patagonia, in an otherwise already very expensive region of the country - AR$28,000 (£20) for a burger and chips was a lot by UK prices, nevermind out here.

Simone's onward travel plans had her getting a bus back to Puerto Natales so that she was able to get a ferry up the coast of Chile to Tortel, which aligned with my needing to be back in El Calafate to fly to Ushuaia, so we had planned to get the car back to Calafate before the weekend. We left El Chalten and took Franco and Elena to the junction with Route 40, as their travelling took them north, so after a month of on-off travelling together we said goodbye as a four, at the side of the road in the plains of Patagonia. Simone and I got back to Calafate and returned the car, then went out for a farewell meal, conscious that travelling would be different again now after almost 4 weeks of planning and sharing our experiences. It felt like a lot of change and goodbyes in quite a short space of time, which is the downside to travelling and the cost of making proper connections with people at moments in time - it happens in "normal" life too, its just more frequent, obvious and pronounced when you're exploring the world.

I made sure I was up to say goodbye to Simone the next morning, wishing her well on the next leg of her journey, unsure when we'd meet again but sure there would be a time somewhere down the line. For the rest of that day I felt a little flat and stayed at the hostel catching up with the photos I'd been taking but doing nothing with, trying to ensure I had the smallest amount of overhanging admin before I got on the ship and set sail to the Antarctic a few days later. As part of the kitlist for the expedition I also needed some crampon capable expedition boots that weren't included in the rental of clothing I had sorted, so spent time looking for options in Ushuaia, Calafate and anywhere in between to see if I could come up with a solution (to no avail).

That evening was the first time I would be cooking without a concern for vegetarianism and needed a distraction from the day, so went to the shop to buy some avocado, steak and eggs with a plan to have a decent Argentinian steak for dinner. Unable to read Spanish, without any data on my phone or able to guess what I was looking at, I got what I hoped would work from the shop and started cooking it up at the hostel. As I opened the steak I realised I had bought 3 thin stirfry style steaks (milanesa), and that the avocado's were so raw I couldn't even prize the stone from the centre. I persevered because it was my option, and to my amusement I noticed another guest in the kitchen looking envious at what I was attempting to create. Lauren pointed out it appeared much more exciting than her tuna and pasta dinner, but I came clean that none of what I was trying to do was going to plan, and that although it looked more interesting, it was becoming an expensive fail. After I'd scraped the creation onto a plate and sat down, we got chatting, and four hours later realised everyone else in the room had gone and it was time for bed.

My plan the next day was to finalise various media tasks, get my blog up to date and be completely lined up for Antarctica, but instead I spent most of it chatting to Lauren who had various admin jobs to do and was spending the day in the hostel too. Sometimes you meet someone you can talk to for hours and it feels like minutes have passed, and goodbye feels like a theft of time, so that evening when Lauren packed up her things and checked out to go meet a friend from home and begin three weeks of travelling, I had another empty feeling to manage but was grateful to have made another connection I cared about. I went for a run to the lakeside and back through town to stretch my legs from 2 sedentary days, and feeling the consequence of having lost my fitness.

I made arrangements to get a transfer to the airport for the following afternoon and played the age-old game of formatting my luggage so the airline would accept the weight of various bags.