F: Puerto Natales and Torres del Paine

(Sorry, most of the photos are on my phone (see below), and trying to load them onto the PC from 'travel internet' is hopeless.)

Puerto Natales

The arrival in Puerto Natales already had a good surprise in store: the good hostels were fully booked. We had not experienced this before, usually we only book a day in advance and there was always plenty of space everywhere. Now we have arrived in sparsely populated but touristy Patagonia. For this (already late) evening, we booked a shabby accommodation, the next day we moved to the cozy Singing-Lamb-Hostel.

We spent the days rather unexciting. But that's exactly what we need from time to time, so that we can process and start the next stage with enthusiasm and curiosity. There were also a few things to prepare for my big wish: The O-Trek around the Torres del Paine massif. I had heard that waterproof clothing and shoes are incredibly important, as it may rain daily. So we meticulously impregnated all our rain gear.

On the first day in Puerto Natales we met up with the other four Swiss again, it was a fun evening and Simon was overjoyed to finally be able to drink excessively with two other men. ;-)
Sam, a 27-year-old, and Simon Gisler, about 35, were in the same cabin on the ship (I think they assign the same countries to each other), and we hadn't talked much with them on the ship. But on that evening I had a good conversation with Simon G.
The next day, Simon was too lazy, hungover, tired to get up, so I went out alone and wandered through the town. I looked for waterproofing spray, wanted to check the price of hiking poles, and just explore a bit. I ran into Sam, who was walking through the town feeling a bit tense. He had decided to do the W-Trek in Torres del Paine with Dagmar and Tobias and Simon G. (who had already joined them the day before). He still needed some equipment. I also needed to go to an equipment store, so we went together. We also ran into Simon G. somewhere and ended up going for a drink. So I spent hours with them.

As if we hadn't already slept enough on the ship, we continued to sleep a lot these days. Especially Simon was in a pronounced hangover mood, he surpassed me, which rarely happens. I even went jogging while he was engrossed in Age of Empires. One day we wanted to do a little hike. We rented bikes and rode to the foot of Cerro Dorotea, which is actually the only possible hike from the village. The way there was not quite easy to find, and after we couldn't find a turnoff even after the second dead end, Simon's mood was about to crash. We climbed over a fence to find the desired gravel road, and Simon even managed to tear a nice triangle in his pants. He said, "Be careful not to tear your pants like I just did." So I tried not to hit the fence - rip! - at the last moment, I also got my knee caught on the protruding nail. Luckily, I found it extremely funny, so we didn't both turn back frustrated and annoyed.

At the foot of Cerro Dorotea, we had to pay admission in a crooked hut. They seemed to be Mapuche people and perhaps the path is on their private property? In any case, it was official, they told us about the admission fee already at the hostel. The path was beautiful, the Patagonian vegetation varied with bushes alternating with meadows and then smaller and larger forests. We also crossed a very young forest that must have burned down a few years ago, you could still see the traces. Even before we reached the summit - which was simply an edge with a transmitting tower and a view of the bay of Puerto Natales - it started to rain and wind, mercilessly. We were soaking wet in no time. A good premonition for the multi-day hike, we thought. But the rain shower passed after a little less than an hour and the wind at least partially dried our rain jackets. When we arrived at the bottom, the gentlemen in the crooked hut invited us for coffee and rolls, which were included in the price. We entered the hut and found that if the money stays here, it was quite well invested. These people don't have much! But they made a great effort to serve us a proper snack. After the bike ride back through the wind, even our jeans were practically dry when we arrived in Puerto Natales! This wind is apparently quite dry and mild despite being close to the sea.

I couldn't stop worrying about my knee. For a few years now - yes, I'm not twenty anymore either - my knee has been complaining irregularly during descents, completely unpredictable but when it does, it's intense - for the descent from the Glärnisch hut, I limped, hopped, and groaned, taking twice as long as the rest of the group. That's why I famously bought two trekking poles for the nine-day hike in Huaraz. But in the end, I hardly needed them, my knee behaved well and one of the poles broke on the third day. That's why I didn't mind buying another pair of poles - this time at a Chilean price - and lugging them around for no reason. But what if my knee hurts, for example, on the long descent on day two?! After (of course) careful consideration, I decided to go for it: a knee brace, a rheuma cream with diclofenac, and plenty of ibuprofen.

Circuito Torres del Paine

On January 27, 2020, it finally started, I was incredibly excited. In the afternoon, we took the bus from Puerto Natales two hours north to the ship dock on the shore of the deep turquoise Lake Pehoe. That color....! During the crossing to Refugio Paine Grande (at the foot of the mighty Paine Grande), it was pouring rain, everyone put on their rain pants. But by the time we arrived, it was already over. We had reserved a tent for this night, in the camping area just behind the refugio. The refugio itself is more like a hotel, there are massage offers, a bar, and self-service food. On the way to the tent, I got caught on a shoelace loop of one hiking boot (must have come loose, I always tie a double knot to prevent that) on the hook of the other hiking boot, and inevitably, without being able to save myself with a lunge, I landed with both knees on the gravel. I saw stars! Ouch! "That's a good start!"

The night was an experience in itself, the wind was howling like crazy. It howled and shook the tent like I had never experienced before. So I was impressed in the morning that the tent survived this storm without losing a single peg. The sleeping bag was nice and warm, the sleeping pad was top-notch, everything was good. Only my knees were nicely colored and warm... :-/

The path of the first stage led through southern beech forests and bushes, over small streams and bridges, past Lake Skottsberg, and it already felt like I had landed in a picture book. Even though the weather was gray, the Paine Grande was shrouded in clouds, and it was windy. While walking, Simon picked grass and leaves from the edge of the path, suddenly he stopped and said, "Oh, this one smells like cinnamon," and indeed, a bush that looks very similar to the southern beech smells strongly of cinnamon when you rub the leaves!
In Campamento Italiano, we dropped off most of our luggage and only hiked up to Valle Francés with a picnic, mostly through a beautifully untamed, quite dense forest. Soon, we could see the beautifully blue Glaciar Francés, which seemed to flow out of the gray rather than coming down from the large Paine Grande. Until we reached the Mirador Britànico, it was so cold due to the wind that our sandwiches froze right away. Nevertheless, we stayed on the viewpoint for a while to catch a glimpse of the "view" between the quickly passing clouds. In the end, we were quite satisfied with the individual bright moments.

I hardly felt any pain in my injured knee during the descent and used the knee brace for the aging knee. So I arrived at the bottom in great shape.

Actually, we were already quite tired when we arrived at Italiano, especially since we had probably been on the move for about six hours. But we still had about two hours to go to our accommodation, Refugio Cuernos. So we took a little nap and then rested in the sun in front of the house. A rabbit hopped by. Around four o'clock, we ordered a glass of rosé and agreed that it couldn't be nicer.

The following two stages were both relatively flat and not very long. And I enjoyed them so much! This landscape - with continued sunny weather - feels like drugs to me. Everything looked so charming, as if a dwarf was just about to emerge from the next rock and complete the fairy tale. (Although in reality, foxes tear rabbits apart at night and lizards eat dragonflies alive during the day). Rolling plains of short grass with cushion growth and small humpy bushes, occasional knotty trees. Then a small forest with a lot of dead wood. Whole trees lying on the ground, heaps of dead branches, moss-covered ancient pieces of wood. A dream for all the small and smallest creatures. Soon after Las Torres, the Rio Paine joins in, a large, wide river that is still turbid and turquoise like glacial milk. I usually only see this in smaller glacial streams and lakes. It flows slowly and meandering through the slight incline of the wide valley. And it looked so beautiful, as this wide turquoise stripe wound its way through the rust-red, dark yellow, and dark green landscape. In the flat areas in the wide Rio Paine valley, meadows spread out with chest-high, autumn-yellow grass swaying in the wind; in the middle, there was an old tree, daisies, and other flowers. I felt like Yakari, the Indian boy from the comic book. As if I were wandering through an endless, perfectly intact, and unrealistically beautiful, idyllic nature.

Refugio Cuernos gave us that cozy alpine feeling that we missed the day before. It is significantly smaller than Paine Grande and set up and organized quite similarly to an SAC hut. I was glad that I decided to bring my sneakers (thanks for the tip, godfather!) for the hours in the hut.

As a reward for the long first stage, we only hiked a few hours from Cuernos to Refugio Chileno on the second day. The weather was good, we could clearly see the layering of the rock on the Cuernos, and the landscape continued to be as wonderful as yesterday. Wide meadows pushed themselves between the bushes, in beautiful autumnal colors (for here, it's probably summer), with flowers and sometimes tall grass. somewhere, Laguna Inge nestled between rusty dwarf willow and yellow-brown grasses, the perfect place for a break. Valle Rio Ascencio was wild and I liked it a lot, with the beautiful glacial stream and little vegetation in the lower part.

In Chileno, we studied the ever-changing weather forecast. For the following day, there was even less cloud cover predicted, so it might be worth climbing up to Lago Torres at sunrise, the famous viewpoint for the tres Torres... During the night, it was still windy as if the hut would be blown away from the mountain. I woke up several times and thought, "yes, that's it with the sunrise at the Torres." Still, at 3:50 a.m., Simon went out in front of the hut to check the weather. "Clear starry sky!"

The wind was still howling and it was unexpectedly warm. We felt like in a foehn storm in a Swiss foehn valley. The ascent through the forest with the headlamp required good concentration, as the path was not always obvious. A group of French people started after us, and at the hut, we also saw people who had started from the valley. But we were alone on the ascent, which I really enjoyed. It reminded me of scout night exercises, stumbling through the dark forest with a headlamp, where it crackles and rustles, the wind howls, and in-between, it is eerily quiet.

The upper part of the path is rather poorly prepared, it is improvised over rocks and scree slopes. It was already getting quite light, behind us, it was already reddish on the horizon between the clouds, which is why we hurried. The wind blew steadfastly and cool, sometimes it raised sand tornadoes and dust clouds in our faces. It was tiring... And then we were there! A milky turquoise glacial lake, rock walls formed an arena, and on its edge, the three towers perched. Amazing!

We tried to find a somewhat wind-protected spot, had breakfast, and observed the panorama. The waves danced on the small lake, and occasionally, whole clouds of water droplets were driven across the surface by the wind. First, the Torres were illuminated brighter and brighter in a yellow light, and only when it was almost fully bright, the rock face suddenly appeared red and redder (although mainly the rock face next to the Torres, presumably a cloud disturbed the uniform illumination, but it did not detract from the impression!). The magic was over pretty quickly when the sun finally made its way over the horizon.

And almost exactly at that moment, the camera broke. Sand must have gotten stuck between the zoom cylinders. I would normally expect a breakdown from me at this point. If I can't capture this beautiful world and my rich experiences with photos - it stresses me out! But somehow, I was able to pragmatically deal with it because it was hopeless to solve this problem here. Well, now there are only phone photos.

As we were already in the second half of the descent, more and more people were coming towards us. More and more and more! Ah, the buses from Puerto Natales must have arrived at the Hotel/Refugio Las Torres and those are the day tourists. But these crowds! Suddenly, we realized how wonderfully lonely it was with these maybe twenty people this morning at the viewpoint. In a span of 6 minutes, Simon counted 64 people! (Admittedly, there were also minutes when we didn't meet anyone, but that still gives a horrendous average).

The weather was almost windless by now, radiant blue and very warm. We sat down in the sun by the side of the path and unpacked lunch. I was incredibly happy, in the warm grass, in an idyllic nature like in a picture book, with Simon, in the sunshine... it couldn't have been better. And that's how the day continued, blissfully happy.

Las Torres is more like a hotel than an alpine hut, and because we got up so early, we arrived early. So we first took a shower, washed our T-shirts, and then lounged in the sun in front of the house all afternoon. A bunny hopped by. Around four o'clock, we ordered a glass of rosé and agreed that it couldn't be nicer.

The following two stages were both quite flat and not too far. And I enjoyed them so much! This landscape - with continued sunny weather - feels like drugs to me. Everything looked so charming, as if a dwarf was just about to emerge from the next rock and complete the fairy tale. (Although foxes tear rabbits apart here at night and lizards eat dragonflies alive during the day). Rolling plains of short grass with cushion growth and small, humpy bushes, occasional knotty trees. Then a small forest with a lot of dead wood. Whole trees lying on the ground, heaps of dead branches, moss-covered ancient pieces of wood. A dream for all the small and smallest creatures. Soon after Las Torres, the Rio Paine joins in, a large, wide river that is still turbid and turquoise like glacial milk. I usually only see this in smaller glacial streams and lakes. It flows slowly and meandering through the slight incline of the wide valley. And it looked so beautiful, as this wide turquoise stripe wound its way through the rust-red, dark yellow, and dark green landscape. In the flat areas in the wide Rio Paine valley, meadows spread out with chest-high, autumn-yellow grass swaying in the wind; in the middle, there was an old tree, daisies, and other flowers. I felt like Yakari, the Indian boy from the comic book. As if I were wandering through an endless, perfectly intact, and unrealistically beautiful, idyllic nature.

At Campamento Serón, there is a campsite with a tiny hut as a dining room. Since Las Torres, there were noticeably fewer people on the trail. Simon really appreciated this, as he found it rather too organized and institutionalized so far. I had expected it so much and prepared for it, that there is no solitude or self-sufficiency feeling here at all, that I was even somewhat surprised that it wasn't even more crowded.

Since the descent the day before, Simon's knee has been hurting. Upon arrival at Serón, it was swollen, warm, and quite painful. The super nice hut keepers here gave us ice cubes to cool it down. Then my super knee rescue kit came into play. What luck that I ran around like a headless chicken to collect it, and didn't even need it myself! Because for the rest of the hike, Simon only wore the knee brace and underwent an ibuprofen therapy.

During dinner, we met a guide who had an Australian couple as guests. She told us very interesting things about the national park. These northeastern, flat areas of the current national park belong to an immigrant family from Croatia, who used to have estancias (sheep farms) here. One estancia was exactly here and was run by Señor Serón. After the establishment of the park, the family founded the company Fantástico Sur (with whom we booked the trek package with all accommodations) and they operate four refugios in the park (and make a really good amount of money with it). The other huts are state-owned and are leased to an operator for a few years, currently Vertice. The free and very basic campsites are operated directly by CONAF, the government.

The fifth stage, from Serón to Camp Dickson, was also a rather short and flat route, and the landscape continued in the same way as the day before. Sometimes, there was also a great view of the Dickson Glacier. I didn't like it that much at Dickson. The paths were muddy and the tents were damp. The dining room was bare and cold, but the food was very good, and the chef was super nice.

The seventh stage was the longest. It led over the John Garner Pass, which meant an ascent of almost 800 meters, a descent to Campamento Grey of 1100 meters, a total distance of 14km. We started at 7am. The first part led through the same type of forest as yesterday, full of lichens, lots of deadwood, undergrowth, shrubs, and ferns, rather dense and therefore somewhat dark, cool, and almost mystical. The path was a bit difficult because it was swampy, slippery, and often required detours.

For me, the forest was a bit too gloomy, but Simon really liked this deep primeval forest. After the tree line, the path transformed into a more alpine environment, with rocky terrain, which I liked very much. On the left, you could see the high, white peaks of Cerro Blanco Sur (& Co?), slopes full of scree. On the right, you looked directly at the glacier on Cerro Condor. And straight ahead, the path meandered to Paso John Garner. Water seeped out of the scree into a crystal-clear stream where we refilled our water bottles - there is no better water!

As soon as you reach the Garner Pass, a magnificent panorama unfolds! Below me, the endlessly long Grey Glacier tongue and behind it a cheerful jaggedness of many, many more white Patagonian peaks. The wind blew heavily and cool, although apparently it often blows much stronger here, we still didn't linger for too long. A very nice descent followed with a constant view of the glacier - beautiful! Even in the forest below, you could still catch glimpses of the ice between the trees.

The descent became very long. And poor Simon had knee pain and hobbled all the way. We both also had tired feet from the many days of hiking. But the recurring viewpoints of the glacier - now also "from the front" where it ends in Lago Grey - and this peacefulness in the idyllic forest made up for a lot. Particularly beautiful was the view of the small bay in Lago Grey, where big and small icebergs gathered.

Campo Grey was closer to a hotel again, but in a pretty rustic style. We were not unhappy about that :-). I treated myself to a hot shower and fresh clothes, and then we rested in the lounge in front. We met the Swiss couple again and had a good evening together. Daniel built his own camper van completely. He bought a pickup truck and built the complete equipment of a camper on it, even the housing!

The last day was like a summary of the whole park. We walked past small lakes once again, had a magnificent view of Lago Grey, the path led through forests and meadows with tall grass, through clusters of bushes and tundra flora, over sticks and stones. And again, I almost sank into the sight because it just looks so indescribably lovely and undisturbed peaceful - and somehow radiates that too. In such an environment, I always feel so calm and content.
The path down to Paine Grande, where the ship didn't depart until 6 p.m., was so short that we could stay in Grey until midday. So we slept a little longer and enjoyed a few cozy hours with #12 App, etc.

Simon was glad that we were done. He really liked the nature, but less that everything is so strictly regulated and people here make so much money with tourists. He would have preferred to go wild camping somewhere. And his knee hurt, so he was a bit tired of hobbling around with it.

We crossed the many dead, smooth, gray tree trunks that remained from the forest fire. Some of them still had charred spots. The fire was caused by hikers camping illegally. As a result, camping outside designated areas in the park was prohibited. I understand that.

In the course of the afternoon, the weather cleared up. The cloud cover got holes, which became bigger and bigger... When we arrived at Hotel Paine Grande, we could take our first look at Mount Paine Grande, which was still hidden in the clouds when we arrived eight days ago. We still had about two hours until the departure of the last catamaran. And for that time, we sat in the bar, where we naturally met Dani and Sandra again, talked, ordered a pizza, and treated ourselves to a cold beer!

In the meantime, real bomb weather developed outside. The sun, which was already quite low, shone with warm light, the last clouds disappeared, and Lago Pehoe was as vibrant turquoise as if it were glowing from the inside out. What a farewell! I practically spent the whole time on the roof of the catamaran, speechless, marveling at the scenery that we were leaving behind.

Of course, you can never say that, but during this week, it felt like I had never seen anything so beautiful in my life, like these landscapes in Torres del Paine.