Seems a shame to gloss over such a glorious wonder as Glacier Perito Moreno, so I`ll backtrack a little more before I get to my main event – ie the Q circuit in Torres Del Paine, Chile.
After leaving ‘mi familia nueva’ in El Chalten (I know, outrageous, a mother abandoning her family like that), I got a bus (only 5 hours) to El Calafate.
I`d been recommended America Del Sur hostel, having heard good reviews of both their BA and El Calafate sites. I was not disappointed. I arrived tired and pretty late, and as I was only planning to spend a day or two there (“the only thing there is the glacier” was a phrase used all too often, and again, I’m conscious of sounding very underwhelming about something so incredible), I was pleased to have all my needs met almost a little too quickly (they were firing information, costs, and details at me straight away, almost pre-empting my questions), but the being met with a huge smile, a hug and the standard cheek-kiss by the lovely German (pronounced Her-man) assured me I’d made the right choice.
He interrupted his own dinner, and I was immediately kitted out with a room, my bags taken off my hands, an amazing asado put before me even though technically the kitchen was closed (and it wasn’t the full offering, so I paid half price), a beer in my hand, ticket for the glacier trek the next morning booked and packed lunch pre-ordered.
As you approach the glacier, it literally stops you in your tracks. The thing I’ve loved about much of my trip, the ‘must see’ places in particular, is that they have pretty much all lived up to expectations, which is not always the case. These sights are on postcards and in coffee table books for a reason.
The guide on the tour bus took a bit of a shine, and for some unknown reason decided I needed to sit up at the front with him and the driver, drink some mate and have a bit of banter.
It was 7.30am and far earlier than my usual banter threshold, but I figured it gave me a chance to practise speaking a little Spanish. And the driver Javier was hilarious, if a little too interested in drinking mate, getting involved in the chitchat and not interested enough in keeping his eyes on the road.
In one piece, myself and Ben, the other guy on the tour from my hostel, another Australian and bore a striking resemblance to my friend Sam (Lynes, for anyone reading this who knows him), got crampon-ed up and set off with our three guides (love the mentality of the types who work in these outdoorsy jobs. They’re all a bit nuts). The tour itself was just long enough, as we were in the end more interested in when we could get lunch than ‘Oh look, more ice. Oh, some more jagged ice… and there is some slightly bluer ice than that we’ve just been looking at…’ Again, apologies for sounding jaded.
It was brightened by the annoying American who asked “What about all these brown specks. What kind of reaction is that? Or is it a different type of ice?”
Ben looked at me, and we shared the eyebrow raise and I knew we’d get on okay.
(Ah, that special brown ice. That’s unique to El Calafate…. or perhaps it was just dirt. You decide.)
Back to El Calafate, a bit of admin, quick wander to the supermarket and get myself organised to leave for Puerto Natales, a swift farewell to Ben and back to the hostel to hang out with Herman, Rafael (v cool guy from Rio with a joint penchant for Eddie Vedder) and the delicious, and ridiculously cool, flow artist Fede.
Nope, I didn’t have a clue what a flow artist was either.
Anyway, PN-bound, I’d sent emails to a couple of hostels, but had no reply upon arrival. Tried one, but the host seemed a little weird (As he’s looking me up and down in a pervy fashion) “Yes, of course you can stay here. It’s 100 pesos (most places are 70-80). I will cook you breakfast. They’re`s no one else here right now, but we have nice hostel.”
Erm… nah. You’re alright mate.
By now I was cold, my pack seemed to have doubled in weight instantly and it was lashing down.
Having made the decision I would just get into the next one I came across, I luckily landed in Shakana Hostel.
A little dingy-looking at first, I wasn’t enamoured but figured it was only for a few nights.
How wrong I was.
Washing dropped off, research started, went to Base Camp, the nearest and most well-known bar in PN, which also gave out info on the treks, hired kit etc.
Google Erratic Rock. It will tick all the boxes you need for that part of the world.
Met Felipe, who was doing a grand job of selling his kayaking tours (which I would most definitely be splashing out on if I was not heading home soon), showcasing the most stunning photos of local wildlife through his Rutas Ancestrales Patagonia. Check it if you have time, money and a will to see the best of southern Patagonia.
Next morning, asked at my hostel if anyone else was heading off for the W the next day.
“I think maybe the French couple are,” Shakana told me.
Said French couple then walked in. Which actually turned out to be an Australian non-couple. But they were indeed heading off to the park the next day.
Enter Pippa and Dan! Happy now, Dan?! ;o)
Two of the most lovely, smart, funny, grounded, kind, generous, patient, strong and supportive friends I’ve met on my whole trip. Thanks guys for asking me along.
Now, back to Erratic Rock. They run a free talk every day to arm you with all you need to know about the trek.
I was still intent on doing ‘The W’, but Pippa and Dan were setting for the Full Circuit. Dan was uberorganised and had their full meal plan, kms per day equated to hours on the trail, and what gear was still outstanding.
Pippa was more in my camp, pardon the pun.
The talk was given by Rustyn (who we’d wrongly been referring to as ‘Rusty’ the whole trip until we were put right), who was American, cocky, funny, an excellent raconteur and as a result of all these things, kind of sexy on first impressions. I say first impressions as we (Pippa, me, and probably every other female who had ever been to that talk) later changed our minds and decided it was all an illusion.
“Your feet will be wet the entire time. Get over it.”
“DO NOT take a backpack cover. You will lose it on the first day.”
“Do not eat lunch. Only food to be eaten with one hand.”
“I repeat. Your feet will be wet the ENTIRE time.”
“Take two of things. No more. Wear one for day (wet) and one for night (dry).”
These were some of the tips Rusty (I prefer our way) gave us during the talk.
“The longer you’re out there, the more fun you will have. IF you just do the W, people will ask you how your trip was. Ok, you’ll think. Because Day One will be kind of cool. Day Two will suck, Day Three will suck, Day Four you’ll start feeling your stride, and then Day Five you’ll leave.
“IF you stay on and do the Circuit, you’ll have found your rhythm, your pack will be lighter, the paths will be quieter, the scenery will be different…”
This was the turning point, and the reason I decided to join Pippa and Dan on their trek. That, coupled with my Fomo (sorry John, still not lost it!), anyway.
ToBeShaw 
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