Chilean Patagonia : Torres Del Paine
A travelogue from Chilean Patagonia
Previously on LatAm Diaries: Chilean Patagonia — Arrival
The only reason we, or any other tourist, might visit Puerto Natales would be to get to Torres del Paine, the crown jewel of southern Patagonia. We came here in 2019 when we did the W-Trek. But we couldn’t visit the Grey Glacier due to logistical reasons. So, that’s on top of our minds this time as we head to Hotel Lago Grey.
The road to Lago Grey is paved only for about 30–45 minutes; the remainder is gravel. Roughly 45min into the gravel, we see a large deep blue lake that follows us for several kilometers — Lago del Toro. Covering an area of 202 sq km, it’s a massive lake and is the largest in this park.
To keep the option of camping open, we’ve stuffed the trunk with all our camping paraphernalia. However, I feel antsy about camping today. The antsiness is a bit like a fear of leaving civilization. The first time I go camping in any season, I fear it; the fear of missing the familiar comforts of civilization. The fear dissipates if I sit with it long enough, but somehow I don’t feel great just yet about hitching the tent. So, we might try to head back tonight.
The park is part of Chile’s End of the World Route and is vast, remote, and spectacular. Embarking on a visit to the park requires thought, intention, preparation, and care. Is the vehicle fully fueled? There is not a single gas station inside the park. Is there an offline map, physical or digital because there is no network coverage within the park? Have you made food provisions? The park is not surrounded by cozy villages like in the Alps. There are not more than 5–6 Refugios or serviced camps with food inside this vast park. The road condition is atrocious and rash driving might get the car in a ditch, or could even topple the car. Since a majority of the roads in the park are gravel, driving too fast or too close to another car could smash the windscreen. The weather is unpredictable and could get the winds to up to 75kmph. So, keeping the car door innocuously open to capture an image might detach the door. It’s nature in its full glory and grandeur.
Imposing mountains with craggy peaks watch over us throughout the drive, with large lakes hugging the switchbacks. The lakes are glistening blue, reflecting the gorgeously blue sky; it’s perfect weather today. When we get closer to the hotel, we see a relatively flat stretch between the mountains of pure uninterrupted white. From the mountains flows a stretch of glacier that joins the lake, the Lago Grey. This is part of the southern Patagonian icefield, another part of which we plan to visit across the border next week — the Perito Moreno glacier in Argentina. After 2hrs 45min of a slow bumpy ride over a gravel road, we reach Hotel Lago Grey.
There are no more seats for the glacier cruises today, so we reserve one for tomorrow. We walk around the lake a little and eat our sandwiches. The turquoise color of glacial water is quite distinguishable from the dull blue of a mountain stream, especially in areas where they merge. Since we come back here for the cruise tomorrow, we drive in the direction of Salto Grande waterfalls.
Approximately an hour in the direction of Salto Grande comes Lago Pehoe. I’m struck by how brilliant the lake’s color is; it’s bright turquoise, brighter than Grey as if a kid painted it with crayons. In the background is the ever-present granite head of Los Cuernos, or the Horns. The towers or the Torres aren’t visible, but one of them peeps out from the rear.
Further from Lago Pehoe, we stop at Hosteria Pehoe — a very cute hotel where we had stayed during our last visit. We cross a log bridge over the lake and get to a cute red-colored log cabin surrounded by wildflowers in yellow, pink, and violet. The hotel overlooks the lake and the mountains. Walking along the beach we see lupines for the first time on this trip.
We had seen stretches of lupines for the first time in New Zealand. They were gorgeous and lined every lake or river in the south island. As we were marveling at it, someone pointed out how that’s a weed in the country that was thoughtlessly introduced by the colonizers. The flowers modified the ecosystems of braided rivers by stabilizing the gravel. Wading birds in NZ require shallow braids to feed in.
While driving along the spectacular Carretera Austral route in Chile a year later, we kept seeing fields of large multicolored flowers along the rivers and realized they were the notorious lupins, which were natives of the Americas. They thrive here, growing as large as half an arm. It’s a shrub in Chile, but a tree in Mexico, and the legume it produces gave me the worst allergy of my life.
The last time we were near Salto Grande waterfalls, we had spotted several guanacos. Unfortunately, we see none this time. The wind is picking up and is hovering over a 55kmph. There are so many varieties of wildflowers on this trail that are yet to fully bloom. We hike around a bit and drive back at 4. We have a 2.5–3-hour drive back to Puerto Natales.
Lago Grey — Glacier Cruise
It’s a cloudy day. Yet the snow-capped mountains are starkly visible against the overcast backdrop. The temperature is 10 degrees, compared to the 17 yesterday.
My body remembers with pain as we get to the gravel road that it’s enduring the bumps for a second consecutive day. The alternative was for us to camp inside the park. Even a simple camp spot is $70. Taking a full board — tent, sleeping bag, mat, and food — would come around $240 for the two of us per night. When compared to that, our house in Puerto Natales, including the gas price, was significantly cheaper. So I pay the difference in price with the bumps.
We reach Hotel Lago Grey around 11. Getting closer to an ice field, I feel colder and grab my pair of thermals.
The lake is dull turquoise today since it doesn’t have the bright blue sky for a companion. Shadows of the clouds dance on the lake, letting in cracks of sunlight to glisten on the water. Against such a muted landscape, the blue from the large chunk of iceberg on the lake is starkly contrasting. The pure white sheet of icefield beckons behind us. We collect our tickets and head to the loading dock of the catamaran which is a 5-minute drive and a further 35-minute walk away.
The staff in the boat surprisingly speak English. The last time we came, we had managed with a bit of rudimentary Spanish. We had practiced tourist-Spanish for a couple of months with Duolingo before our visit. This made us comfortable to even instinctively respond no hablo espanol. We haven’t been diligent at all this time. So our rudimentary Spanish has become nonexistent. But we get by. Like the time when I had to inform the lady at the gas station how much fuel to fill — I played the translation on my car speaker, and we had a good laugh later.
The boat staff is kind enough to translate instructions to English even though we both are the only non-Spanish speakers. Although, for a 5-minute Spanish speech, she is giving us only a 30-second abridged version. I guess English is an efficient language.
We have our sandwich and wait for the welcome drink, the legendary but controversial Pisco Sour. Pisco is a touchy possession between Chileans and Peruvians, with both claiming it as their own. Peruvians went even as far as to name a town after Pisco, that’s how serious they were. I find it unimpressive though, just a lemony drink, but Sabarish really liked it.
Just before we get to the glacier, the boat stops near Refugio Grey to pick up more passengers. When we did the W Trek in 2019, this was our first night’s stay. I feel a bit of nostalgia for that 5 days of hiking through spectacular landscapes through rain, shine, wind, and snow with a buttload of stuff on my shoulders. It was magical even when at times painful and frustrating, like when it rained and snowed in the middle of our Torres hike and we realized that our waterproof gloves were counterfeit.
The texture of the rocks near the glacier is peculiar. It looks like a slanted stack of pancakes sliding against each other. They seem carved and sculpted by moving ice.
We approach the glacier. Before I can conceive the immensity of it, the boat turns around and takes us near another mouth of the glacier, and another. I then realize it’s one large & magnificent glacier that appears trifurcated. Massive pieces of ice as dense as rock, one after the other, with individually distinguishable shapes. Between them are crevices deep enough to trap a human. Deep inside each of them, glistens a deep blue, like a blue diamond buried within.
The boat turns around and I strike up a conversation with the ladies sitting next to us. The three middle-aged women, who turn out to be sisters, come from the Pacific Northwest. They just did the W-Trek and are headed to Ushuaia. Prior to this, they were in El Chalten. These women must be 55 years averaging across the three, and they just did a 5-day backpacking trip (60km) with roughly 15kg on their backs. None of the elderly women in mine nor in any of my friends’ families are physically active in their middle/old age. I couldn’t expect them to do such a hike even for a day, let alone 5. I wonder about genetics; nature vs nurture. How much of their ability and agility was due to their genetics vs just years of habit? Where will I land when I’m their age?
We head back at 16:20. I think we missed the perfect camping opportunity yesterday. Today is cold, windy & about to rain soon. We reach the city around 7 and get some groceries for the next couple of meals before docking ourselves.
As we buy some bread, eggs, and such, I do a quick mental math on cost-benefit analysis. We spent 60$ on the grocery two days back which included unwanted luxuries like a tiny fruit cake and a can of artichokes for my guilty pleasure. Even counting that, the 60$ lasted for 6 meals for 2 people; 5 per person per meal. Eating out per meal is a minimum 10$ assuming there’s no drink with it.
Refugio Chileno
The temperature has dropped further by 3 degrees today. I notice the rain even before I’m fully awake, with its soft thud on the pavements. Unlike other houses I’ve seen in colder places, the houses here aren’t equipped with insulation. The main door has a thin strip separating from the floor which leaks in the sounds from the road as well as the cold.
I check my phone and reassure myself when the weatherman says it will stop in an hour. Even though I know better than to trust weather predictions, I still seek those omens. However, the weather in Patagonia is notoriously unpredictable. It could rain, shine & snow all on the same day.
There’s no electricity in the morning. At first, we fish around the house for a control board, but then the host lets us know that it’s a routine power cut. I didn’t know those still existed. Even Kerala has grown beyond that.
At around 8.10 am we head towards Las Torres campground. This is the trailhead to Las Torres, which with its three stone towers, is the most iconic view of the park. It’s an 8-hour hike from the welcome center and the trail is closed for entry after 10. Getting to Las Torres is via the Laguna Amarga entrance instead of the gravel road we’ve been taking. In this route, over 60–70% of the road is well-paved.
The landscape along the route is more expansive today, big sky, vast valleys, rolling meadows, and grazing animals. As we pass the ranches, we see the domesticated ones; sheep, horse. Getting closer to the park, several herds of Guanacos dot the landscape. A Condor glides aimlessly. Close to a lake, there’s a low-flying kite, perhaps looking for food. A fox is jumping out of a shrub only to hide back when he spots us.
We check in at the entrance of the park and arrive at Las Torres welcome center at around 10.45. So, a hike to the Torres is out of the question, and we aim for Refugio Chileno. It’s a mesmerizing campground next to a river gorge halfway on the Torres trail.
As we park, we realize the left front tire of our car isn’t inflated well enough. In our tiredness yesterday, we had forgotten to check the tire pressure in the evening, and the gravel hasn’t helped the situation either. So we try to seek help at the welcome center and they ask us to come back after 2 pm. If that doesn’t work out, we’ll have to put in our spare tire.
We start for Chileno at 11.30. After crossing a meadow with a field of Dandelions and Shashtha daisies, and crossing a slat bridge over a river, we start climbing. Horses are grazing next to the trail. On a mostly rocky terrain, the trail is steadily gaining elevation without a respite. It’s only 3.6km to the destination, but we pause and curse every often.
After a while, we get to the Windy Pass next to the river gorge. The last time we were here it was so windy, that we had to hold on to the mountain slopes at times to protect ourselves from swaying. Luckily, today is calm. The terrain is no longer rocky but splintered rocks. This gives me a scare along the inclines because I am unsure of the foothold.
We see the river and further ahead, we see the bridge we need to cross to get to the Refugio. When we finally arrive, all the tiredness dissipates. The mountains are a bit shy behind the clouds, from their mouth flows a river, carving a gorge along its way. We laze around a bit, have lunch, and head back.
On our hike back, we see a few horses and a couple of men riding them. Some of these horses might have been the ones we saw on our way up. Refugio Chileno is one of the remotest serviced campgrounds in the park. With no land access other than by hiking, these horses are still employed to bring in the supplies.
We continue along our way and reach the trailhead at 3. After asking around a bit, we find a bus driver, who then points us to a mechanic who stays in the park. We find him after a bunch of detours and lost ways. Without further ado, he fixes our tire and sends us on our way in 5min. As far as I can tell, he’s the sole mechanic in a 100 km radius. He could easily have charged us a premium for his service. But looks like swindling isn’t in fashion here. He happily accepts any voluntary contribution.
This is part of a series of travelogues. Coming next: Chile to Argentina
