The air seemed crisper, food tasted better, life in general was looking up - the ferry ride had made us stronger people. We had a bbq by the river in Coyhaique, Chile with our fellow 48 hour ferry survivers. Headed south with our new convoy of travellers to a tiny village Villa Cerra Castillo. Here we had an unfortunate trekking adventure where instead of finding views of a beautiful glacier we were backed into a river by angry cows and bad weather. 6 hours later we returned to our cottage drenched, freezing and having lost all faith in following directions from canadians (thanks jeff).
The 4 days that followed provided us with a series of comical events (good and bad). So we are in the middle of nowhere, near one of the Chile/Argentina border crossing. No one in these areas had any type of information on how the hell to get out of town, let alone bus schedules. Few seemed to know anything. To get from ´A´to ´E´we had to catch a collectivo from village A to village B... So you think a ferry comes here tomorrow but maybe in the morning but could be between 8 and 10 next tuesday night?? Great thank you. Catch a ferry from B to C hoping that in village C there would be information to get to village D. Village C did have a timetable in one of the old chests out the back but found there wasn´t anything for 1.5 days. Got to village D, and apparently the guy up the road selling pineapples had a sister that once took a bus to village E he might know something. But aren´t you the tourism officer for this town? Yes but we don´t know anything about transport. Of course you don´t, ha ha. Finally got on a 12 hour unairconditioned bus packed with people across hot barron land and at last we got to village E. It was all and all pretty funny with a twinge of a tooth ache.
Within these 4 days we picked up two americans on our convoy to endure the many hours of waiting around. Amongst these slowly passed days was the sleep walking american Os who (after a big night of drinking) got up in the early hours of the morning, walked over to Jeff´s bed and pissed on him - inches away from Derek´s head. Poor Jeff.
Took Route 40 - made famous by the travels of Che Guevara to El Chalten a sleepy village at the bottom of Mt Fitzroy (hiking mecca of Argentina). Here we trekked and camped for a couple of days around the beautiful snow capped mountains, rainforest and blue lagoons, aaaaahhhh. One of our favourite spots so far on this trip. One of the afternoons it was hot so we decided to stroll from our camp to the next lagoon for a swim, Derek wearing only a singlet, thongs, bordies and a towel. It ended up being a 2 hr hike up rocky dry mountains to a lagoon that had frozen over and was covered in snow. It killed us. The air was so hot that we had no idea we were so close to knee deep snow. So instead of a swim Derek tip toed through the snow in bare feet. Oh so brave.
Our next stop was El Calafate for the Perito Merino Glacier. Oh maaaan - this was like nothing we had seen before. We did wee ourselves a litle when we took a boat right up close to it. We just sat for ages watching large pieces of the glacier break off and fall into the water. Only draw back is there were so many god damned tourists (although we are also) that their ´fat kid on a cupcake´ like behaviour became a specticle in itself. Photos agogo.
Crossed back in to Chile to hike the ´W trail´in Torres del Paine for 3 days. Again this was gorgeous landscape - lush forest, blue lagoons, tall snow capped peaks and of course a big bloody glacier. On the 1st night it was a little strange to catch ourselves hiking at 10pm on a friday night with some other backpackers. Its pretty foreign to our ´its a friday night lets hit the booze and go dancing´ lifestyle back in oz. We camped meters away from the glacier and lived off rice and pea soup for a few days. The last day of Torres del Paine Derek had to return early to the town nearby because he had hurt his foot. I continued to hike for another day. I hitch hiked it back to meet Derek in Puerto Natales with an old local who could barely see past the massive crack in his windscreen, i think he mainly guessed which way to steer because he had driven on these roads many a times before. I was on the edge of my seat.
The last few days in Patagonia were quite uneventful and a well needed rest after weeks of hiking and buses and our hectic backpacking lifestyle (ha). We stopped in Punta Arenas crossing back over to Rio Galligos, Argentina.
We flew out of Patagonia on the 11th of December heading fo the capital. Pataqonia done and dusted.
sorry for our tardy blogging!
