Valparaíso, Chile

I remember when I was studying my map of South America so many months ago on a kitchen table in Sandringham, Auckland, I tried to imagine what each place would hold for me just by looking at their name. Valaparaíso, like its name, sounds like a patch of paradise but I still had no idea what to expect and nothing prepared me for the sites of a truly remarkable place. Anyone coming to Chile? Valaparaíso is a must see.
Now I am not one for large cities or coastal resorts but Valparaíso has a certain charm to the place that disguises both of these things. With its unique history and charming architecture, I am not surprised that it was awarded UNESCO world heritage status. It was once populated by rich European merchants but even though it´s fortune has somehow diminished it still has a certain air of its former grandeur. Most noticeably is the Naval building in the main square (photo left) and the El Mercurio building which is the longest running daily newspaper in the Spanish Language (photo below). Grand old looking banks with majestic doorways also line the narrow stretch of land at the foot of the surrounding hills.

It´s hard to describe the rest of Valparaíso but I´ll try my best. Imagine if you will, 45 hills dotted around a coastline of a few kilometres. Add a bustling port full of containers (destination everywhere) and a small fleet of Naval ships belonging to the Chilean Navy (funnily enough). And then think about (and this is the hard part) covering every square inch of the hills with a labyrinth of cobbled stoned streets, brightly coloured houses spilling out from the horizon, almost falling on top of each other. Add a little hint of charming decay here and there, a few derelict warehouses and a sprinkle (actually 15) ascensiors (lifts, like cable cars) to the steeper hills. Now, on the street corners add a few budding artists for the Bohemian effect and you pretty much have Valparaíso summed up! I recently learnt that my Grandfather came here when he was working on the sugar liners. I didn´t know him very well, but if he was anything like my beloved grandmother, I reckon he would have loved it here too. Around the hills it´s a ramshackle of a place and I am sure I likened one area to a very upmarket part of a favela from Rio de Janeiro. I should also mention that it´s Chile´s second largest port. We spent our time walking around the maze of streets occasionally getting lost (which is very easy) and visited some great seafood restaurants. It was great to see Pelicans again too who pretty much ruled the roofs of the fish markets! Pelican Pelican can eat more than his belly-can!

We also spent some time walking around the old prison which, in its day, incarcerated a lot of political prisoners who were locked up for 16 hours each day. It was the sort of place that let your imagination run wild as most, if not all of it, was in ruins. We met a chap by the name of Papito there, who is an ex prisoner. I didn´t really take to the guy but he has opened up an exhibition in one of the old buildings which was quite interesting and probably the only reason the council doesn´t bulldoze the site to the ground!

However, one of my favorite sites of Valparaíso was to see the Tall Ship Esmerelda. If my information serves me correctly she is the longest sailing ship in the world and the second tallest. She was actually given to the Chilean people from the Spanish to help repay a debt that they had accumulated from the Spanish Civil War. She is used today by the Chilean Navy as a training ship for new cadets and she has to be one of the most beautiful ships I´ve seen. I was really keen to have a look on board but unfortunately there were not any tours during the time we were there. Vero rectified my disappointment by taking us to see one of the Naval ships instead which turned out to be quite the adventure in itself....

I spent two weekends in Valparaíso as Vero´s family (who we were staying with in Santiago) have an apartment there. Vero was a great tour guide and insisted we also took a tour of one of the Chilean Naval Ships. When we got to the entrance we found that only Chileans were allowed on board and that they needed to show their National ID. I wasn´t too fussed about visiting another Naval ship. I used to find it fascinating as a child to visit my father on board whoever it was at the time, but I was happy to sit this one out and since I´m not Chilean I considered it to be out of the question for a visit anyway. Not so! The rather dishy Military Policeman decided that as we were such pretty girls he would let us on board as long as I didn´t open my mouth and try and speak Spanish. Not wanting to be left out I joined the girls in a whirlwind tour of one of the Chilean Frigates (funnily enough which was bought from England, like the rest of the Chilean Fleet)! Once on board ´TT.Something or other´ we were asked again if there were any non-Chileans on board to which I looked blankly out to sea. That´s when the sinking feeling started, that I was definitely in the wrong place at the wrong time. Our Tour Guide, an Engineer, then made a point that they wouldn´t be too happy if they found any Peruvians or Bolivians in our group either as apparently the trouble between these countries are almost at boiling point again!
As we proceeded around the grey matter on deck, all I could think about was my father´s embarrassment if I got caught here. That´s if I survive the court martial! May be a photograph of my Papa in his Naval Uniform that I carry with me might smooth things over...hmmmm. Hoping things were still fine between Chile and the English we moved on to ´admire´ some more warheads (oh why can`t we all just love each other) and I made an effort to look approvingly in the direction that Liz and Vero were looking. Occasionally Liz would give me a dig in the ribs if I wasn´t looking in the right direction and we both looked at each other knowing darned well we were both feeling out of place and, we admitted later, rather nervous as getting caught here could cause great offense (and probably an MP´s job).
The highlight of the tour was a) obviously the end of it for me. After we were saluted (I wouldn´t expect anything else) on to the gangway and so to ashore I was able to talk again but b) as we were walking past the bow sprit of Esmerelda, Liz quite innocently pointed out how funny it was that she would have a turkey carved into the wood. ¨Er....Liz...I´m pretty sure that`s a Condor! You know, their National Emblem!¨ Vero was suitably offended and we all fell about laughing as we bade farewell to the lovely Military chaps at the front gate. Phew!

Pucon & Volcán Villaricca, Chile

Pucon, the adventurer´s capital of Chile cannot be complete without a summit of Volcán Villaricca. This depending on your patience and wallet of course...

We were met at the bus station by Monica who invited us to stay at her Hospedaje (cheap accommodation in her own home). It was overcast when we arrived so we weren’t entirely sure what all of the fuss was about, as apparently Pucón has lots of great views of a few volcanoes in the area, but we couldn’t see a thing! We had originally planned to stay for only a day to get a couple of views in and head on, but when we settled into our new digs, we met a lovely Aussie couple, Robz and Dan and we soon changed our minds.

There was a lot to do in the area adventure wise but after talking to our new friends I immediately had my heart on reaching the summit of the 2847m cone and Liz was only too happy just to get a glimpse of the thing! Poor visibility and bad weather had already seen Robz and Dan staying on a few more days than they had anticipated so I didn’t really fancy my chances on getting there before it was time to move on. Nevertheless we decided to wait for things to clear and have a little look around the area.
We hired a couple of bike for the day and took off with a very inaccurate map


I woke on the attempt of the third morning to find a very smilie Dan in the kitchen. Could this be we are climbing today? ¨Go and have a look outside Sophs,¨ he said. ¨Your kidding? Are we climbing today?¨ I ran out to the street and there she was. Dear old Volcán Villarrica in all her glory. Not a cloud in site and her cone was smoking away! Wicked!
We skipped our way down to the centre, past the green traffic lights that gave no imminent warning of eruption and got kitted up in all the gear. Third attempt for me, ninth for Camp Australia. We were off!
A little mini bus took us to the base and we caught a ski lift up to the half way mark. The hike was really easy. We went at a very steady pace, in single file, crunching our special boots into each step and steadying our balance with our little ice-axes. Every once in a while a whistle was blown and we all had to stop and look up towards the cone as another rock of lava was catapulted towards us. I felt like a very intrepid explorer and the views we got were just breath taking! And so to the top!

My word, the stench of the sulphuric gases really cut into the back of your throat. It was hard to see who you were standing next to you at times as another billow of smoke escaped the vent. We were a little disappointed that we couldn’t see the lava inside, but the pieces of lava that we saw shooting up from the depths of the fiery kingdom were good enough for me! We walked around the vent, had some lunch and then started our decent.

About 15 minutes down, we were asked to stop and put our ´nappies´ on! A funny little garment that was strapped around our thighs and waist so that we could literally slide down the volcano on our arses! It took us four hours to climb and I think only an hour to descend. The first run was fantastic. Dan and Robz decided we should go at the back of the group so that Dan could go first and film Robz and I coming down. Wow! It was so much fun. When it was our turn, Robz went first and I was close behind. We lifted our arms up above our heads with our axes and screamed our heads off as we ran over bumps and around corners down to the bottom. We would both collapse in fits of laughter at the bottom and were always looking forward to the next run.

And so to the third run. On reaching the third leg I looked down the course and suddenly thought out aloud ¨Er…..I´m not sure if I can do this one. It´s looks kinda gnarly down there babe!¨ Robz assured me everything would be fine and jumped on the run before me. When it was my turn, a group of very good looking guys had congregated at the top and could see I was feeling a little edgy. ¨Come on girl, this is the best part! It´s easy! Have fun. Just go with it!¨ Blimey, just my luck I get an audience and so as to not lose any pride I positioned myself at the top of the run and with the help of their countdown (which I think they all said rather too enthusiastically) I let myself go!

Blimey, I hadn’t expected the speeds to what I had just been thrown into. I could hear one of the guides shouting at me to brake (er HELLO! What do you think I’m trying to do here mister!). I dug my axe in as deep as I could into the ice beside me, but I just couldn’t find any friction. The ice had been so mashed up by the bums before me that I was left with a foot of fine powder on either side. My axe was carving it up like a hot knife through butter and with my heart pounding in my head I was beginning to wonder how this was all going to end. I tried sitting up to reduce my velocity but I just kept going faster. Times were in need of desperate measures and as my insurance policy flashed before my eyes, I decided to reach out a little further with my axe on one side of me to find harder ice. That was when it all went horribly wrong…

…no sooner had I found some ice to break in, my left shoulder was almost ripped from its socket and I felt I had little choice but to let go of the only thing that could possibly save me from an inevitable Bridget Jones disaster. BIG MISTAKE! I consoled myself with the fact that things were going to get messy from here on and at least we might be able to laugh about it later. Not only had I lost my brake, I had now lost the very thing that would steer me through this mess and the course was starting to look very much like the infamous Cresta Run of St. Moritz! The ice was banked up on either side of me now and I found myself in a very narrow, cork-screw gorge of sheer chaos. I don’t know how many groups had gone before me but the surface of ice was now covered in a thin layer of water and there was no stopping me. I tried to dig my finger nails in (you’re having a laugh now Sophs) to no avail. Come on, Sophie, think! No, absolutely no time for that. I thought what the hell, lets just go with this thing. I lay back, thought of Blighty, lay my arms on either side of me and tried to twist my body into each corner of the banks on either side. I aced the first couple of corners but my speed was starting to pick up again and it was starting to scare the nappy-pants off me and that was when I hit the third bank…

You know that feeling you get when things aren’t quite going your way? You know, it’s like when you’ve just misjudged a corner on your human bobsleigh run and you’re now airborne and hurtling through the air at break-neck speeds with your arms and legs frantically waving all over the place. Not only have your sunglasses been ripped off your face but you now have snow up your nose, in your eyes, you can’t see a thing and all you can taste is glacial melt water? Well, it was a very similar experience for me. I had no idea where I was. For a few seconds I couldn’t breathe for the millions upon millions of tiny ice shards that were now biting my face. I thought I may have caused an avalanche at one point and they’d have to dig me out of this mess. I had no idea if I was facing imminent injury by landing on the rocks and then a second or so later everything became clear. Ah yes, indeed, I am still airborne and I had been very clever enough to take a short cut by skipping three or four corners of the run (just as I had planned) and I could even see where I was about to land. Brilliant! I’m just about to go A over T into another very steep ice bank and this, this is going to really hurt! If I can just get my body at the right angle I might just be able to…..BANG! Ooooouccccccch! That was when I let go of all my fear and started screaming. Oh no, hang on, supposed to be having fun here and boys are watching. I changed my screams into squeals of ´delight´ to try and bring back any dignity that I might have left further up the mountain. This, of course, was thwarted again when I noticed the good looking bunch of lads that were waiting to do run the after me, had now caught up. Well, I just gave up at that point and let myself, covered completely in snow come to a very sedate stop at the foot of my fellow tour group who were looking on in disbelief that I had actually let my ice-axe go! I picked myself up, dusted myself off and with a smile still in tact I managed a ´Wow, that was grrrrrreat fun!´ One of the boys came over to me and handed me my glasses ¨Er, I think these are yours?¨ And then another one, ¨I think you might have left this up there?¨ to which he handed me my camera, followed by one of the guides who said ¨Never ever let go of your axe!¨ as he handed over the said thing. Bloody smart arse!!

Of course I admitted to Dan and Robz that I was a bit shaken up and may be I should just take the rest of the runs a little easier. I think there were two more after that which I managed to get myself down with half the fuss I made of the third one. And so it was hot showers, a catch up with Liz (who had a great day cycling) and then to the pub for a quiet celebration. Robz, Dan, we finally did it! Thanks for such a great adventure! I really enjoyed hanging out with you and hope to see you again either in Peru or London. Happy Travels!


I woke the next morning a little stiff but only slightly battered in a few places. Result! I have great memories of Pucón! And so to Santiago (via bus)!

Lago Ranco, The Lake District, Chile

As the Bentley purred its way across the Italian imported marble gravel to the solid 100yr old oak doors, the staff were standing to attention to welcome Miss Sophie and Miss Elizabeth to the stately home Los Ulnos…

…ok, so it wasn’t quite the Brideshead Revisited scene that most would imagine, the car wasn’t quite a Bentley and I don’t think the doors were oak, but we were welcomed by the maids and cook, before being introduced to our new family (the family of a friend of Liz’s in NZ). And what a treat it was too. For starters, a bed! Hmmmm, I guessed that it would be too rude to skip the introductions, forget about dinner and the small talk and just jump up and down on that thing, to check out the clean sheets, the fluffy, downy pillows (yes, pillows) and the duvet, my god the duvet (a duvet that wasn’t a sleeping bag no less, no brains lost there then)!! I couldn’t believe how excited I was to know I would be in a bed that night and when I did actually make it there, well, it wasn’t a tent either was it!?

We had a few hassles getting over the border to Lago Ranco but before all your imaginations run wild, it was only due to the lack of buses. It was a shame really as the family were leaving the house the following morning from their annual summer holiday in ´The Hamptons,´ so we missed out on water skiing and such. We were welcomed to stay on as long as we wanted though and the larder and fridge were filled especially for us. I had to convince Rosario (our host) that it wasn’t necessary to leave the cook behind as I was really looking forward to being back in a kitchen again after cooking such culinary delights on our tiny fold-away camp stove. She was quite surprised that I could prepare a certain type of bean too! The rich never cease to amaze me. Ah, you gotta love South American hospitality though!

After nothing but a ground sheet between me and the Earth for the last 50 consecutive nights, I couldn’t take that ridiculous cheesy grin off my face as I snuggled down to see what dreams would come. And then we woke to an empty house. Bliss….

I´ll be the first to admit we didn’t actually do an hell of a lot at Lago Ranco. Traveling sure does knock the socks off you every once in a while. When there’s no routine in your life and your usual diet is hard to find and being constantly on your guard all of the time, it’s hard to find some quality time to yourself to charge up the system and unwind. There were times, when trekking around Patagonia we would go without a shower for up to a week and now we had five bathrooms to chose from. I was missing being on the water and now I had the choice of kayak to mess about in on the lake (from the private jetty of course) AND they had a washing machine! I rest my case, our stay at Lago Ranco was perfect timing.
We spent our time, chilling in the sun (when it appeared), paddling on the lake, swimming in the clearest waters, eating lots of fresh food, drinking fine wine, chilling by the roaring fire in the evenings and catching up on sleep. The chauffer (a local taxi driver who our host paid to look after us) took us on a tour around the lake and occasionally Liz peeled me off the sofa to go into the local village, Futrono, to pick up more supplies.

One morning we even felt energetic enough to take a day trip into Valdivia which is also known as the City of Rivers, due to three of them meeting here; Río Calle Calle, Río Cau Cau and Río Valdivia. It is primarily an University town now but you can still walk around the large forts that once made up the biggest defense system in the Americas during the Spanish Colonisation.


Down on the waterfront we walked around the markets that were largely made up of sea food and other local produce. We were amused to find that smart sea lions have found an haven here. The markets run every morning from the time they set up until noon. During this time the fish mongers are gutting, filleting and throwing the remains away behind them into the river or directly into a sea lion’s mouth! Amusing to watch at first, but on a closer look it’s actually causing more harm than good. Without having to lift a flipper they laze about all day waiting for food to come to them and most of them are seriously overweight and in a bad way. It was sad to see and I was pretty upset to hear that this ´attraction´ is noted in guidebooks. I felt rather sorry for them.

In the afternoon we caught a bus to Niebla on the coast. Ah yes, to see the sea again! It was beautiful and the sun was doing that special little thing again with lots of sprinkled glittery bits on the water. It was great to walk along the beach and to feel black sand between my toes again. I had a few moments and breathed a sigh of relief. I´d missed the sea so much.

We then paid a brief visit to San Sebastián de la Cruz, one of the forts that was built to defend the entrance to Valdivia in 1645. If you are interested in this sort of history, read up here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Valdivian_Fort_System

Having rested up for almost a week, it was time to move on. Lago Ranco was a great break from being on the road and I am very grateful to our host family for allowing us to stay and enjoy their beautiful home so that we could explore places wwe would have otherwise missed.


Next stop, Pucón!
xx

Up the Ruta 40 (from Tres Lagos to Bariloche)

Ahhhhh, Ruta 40. Like other infamous highways this one certainly deserves a mentionn although Route 40 is both everything and absolutely nothing at the same time. Confused? Let me try and explain…

This particular highway runs over 4,600 kilometres (that’s 2858.3 miles for my U.K. audience) down the eastern side of the Andes of Argentina. It starts in the north at a place called Abra Pampa (close to the Bolivian border) and runs through 11 provinces as far south as Rio Gallegos (the Patagonian capital of Santa Cruz). Even though its route takes in some extraordinary countryside it is also notoriously unpaved in some parts and sadly it is often ignored by travelers and even the locals who have abandoned it in places.
At one point of our trip we were considering hiring a car and experiencing the route from Bariloche to Rio Gallegos first hand, but when we were told we’d have to take carry 43 spare tyres, 9 spare windscreens and enough food and water for a week (in case we broke down and no-one passed for days) we decided to knock that idea on the head. Oh, we’re so sensible!

Righto, back to the trip... so there we were ´stuck´ in Tres Lagos. I say stuck in a loose term as on the morning that we planned to attack Ruta 40 poor Liz took a turn for the worse and spent most of the day curled up in her sleeping bag fighting frequent trips to the bathroom. Tres Lagos isn’t exactly a great place to be stuck either. The locals looked at us as if they’d never seen a tourist before and the place was so tiny that it only contained one little store and a bakery, which was actually someone’s house. Liz was feeling much better the next morning and was keen to push on. It was hard for me to tell her that while she was sleeping so peacefully through the night I had taken over her position in the bathroom! Blimey, it brings back bad memories writing about it. At one point we both wanted our Mum’s to be cooking homemade soup for us. We both felt so wretched. We think it may have been down to some of the water we drank out of a river, but it soon passed and we were on our way. Or so we thought…

…I have no idea how long we waited on the side of that road. I was 6 hours into the 24hr tummy bug and in the space of two hours we probably had three or four cars pass us. We were beginning to lose hope when we found we had competition for hitch-hiking and then out of nowhere a lovely couple in their fancy 4 wheel drive pulled up and announced that they would drive us all the way to Perito Moreno! We couldn’t believe our luck. They were so lovely too, offering us their home in Buenos Aires when we make it back there.

It was quite exciting to be on Ruta 40 again. Well, exciting for the first hour anyway. This particular stretch treated us to nothing but pampas on each side; a barren wasteland of desert. It was hot, extremely dusty and void of any wildlife apart from the odd, very entertaining mob of emus that panicked in every direction whenever we approached them!
The road itself was covered in potholes and was quite unforgiving on the steering. I felt for our driver. It must have been so tiring for him having to negotiate the dips and shingle on one hand and an unrelenting wife on the other. My word, that woman can talk! She was very sweet, but when you’re on the road from hell, trying to keep things down and in and making small talk in order to be polite, it was one very ´interesting´ experience.

When we were dropped off at a campsite in Perito Moreno, our friends were very upset that they couldn’t take us any further, but we were extremely grateful for getting this far and even more grateful that we had stopped moving!

After a bathroom free night we attempted to get back onto Ruta 40. We sat on the side of the road for about 4 hours. People stopped for us but no-one was going in the same direction. It appears no-one ever leaves this town. We gave up, Liz went back to bed and I went in search of email to report in!
Whilst I was waiting for the hamster to wake up and spin the wheel to start the hard drive of yet another notoriously slow computer, I experienced the strongest earthquake I’ve felt. At first I thought it was my tummy feeling queasy again, but then I heard the window rattle behind me and the room started shaking quite violently. There were a few children in the room that became quite frightened and others that were probably used to it, but there was one little boy that came racing over to me looking for assurance. In my best Spanish I said it would be alright and looked for the nearest doorway as I had no idea what we were in for. It lasted in dribs and drabs for about 30 seconds and I had completely forgotten about it by the time I got back to camp. That might have been due to another little drama I had accidentally got myself caught up in though. I had befriended another dog on the way home who I had been chatting to quite happily along the way. Unfortunately he stopped to check his pee-mail on one side of the road and hadn’t noticed that I had crossed to the other side. Well, the amount of stray dogs in this town probably equal the same no. of leering men which unfortunately can cause a few accidents. Yup, man too busy looking at me and shouting Linda (beautiful) and my four legged friend crossing the road at the same time – eeeek! I managed to warn the driver by shouting in my best English (yes, no time to think in a foreign language at a time like this) and with a squeal of brakes and ensuing burnt rubber my little canine friend was narrowly missed but in a state of shock. Clear of any other dangers I sat with him for a bit, gave him a bread roll and went on my weary way!

Feeling tired and drained of all energy, Liz and I decided that enough was enough with the hitch hiking (people just don’t use the Ruta 40 any more) and so sadly, we opted to buy a ticket for a tourist bus that would drive us up the Ruta 40 anyway!
Blimey, what a trip it was too. Being a last minute decision, the only spare seats were at the back of the bus. Now in my school days this was considered to be a pretty elite spot where all the coolcats sat. Sadly those days are over and so it was meant to be, that Liz and I were bounced around all over the place like...well.....all I can say is Liz did mention at one point that she wished she put a decent bra on in stead of wearing a bikini top!

It was a very entertaining trip though and although Liz still wasn´t feeling 100% we still managed to join in the singing and banter with the rest of the crew. Liz was even called up front to give us all a running commentary of a few of the sites along the way. But, no matter how hard we tried we were covered from head to toe in very fine dust. Sometimes it was hard to breathe as the air was just full of it. When we stumbled out of the bus for an empanada stop, I shook my hair only to disappear in a cloud of sand smoke, much to the amusement of our fellow travellers.

It’s great to say that I’ve experienced one of the world’s greatest highways and I am sure I will see more of it as I head back down the coast near the end of my trip. I hope other parts won´t be quite so arid and barren though!

Mount Fitz Roy, El Chalten, Argentina

El Chaltén is situated in the Parque Nacional Los Glaciares (the same park where we visited the Perito Moreno Glacier further south). At the far northern end of the park lies one of the most magnificent and famous mountain areas in the Andes. It is home to the legendary diorite peaks of Cerro Torre and Monte Fitz Roy, which were to be the focus of our next trek.

Chaltén is a one horse kinda town; small, very dusty and with the sole purpose of playing host to the adventure tourists that come to climb, hike, explore and then relax in the few pubs and chocolaterias dotted amongst the accommodation sites.

We set up camp in a free campsite by the river and walked (5 minutes) into town for a bite to eat. Being Valentines Day (yes, we´ll use any excuse) we decided to splash out on a pizza and beer and settled on a suitably busy looking restaurant. As we were pondering route maps and finishing off our thin-crust we experienced a power cut. I noticed the whole town was out and so, very nonchantantly (and like every well equipped camper) donned my headlamp, switched to medium beam and we both carried about our business as if nothing had happened. We must have looked a site as the waiter pointed us out to the rest of the restaurant, much to everyone´s amusement (I guess it´s the little things)! Route sorted we made it to the homemade ice-cream shop and I continued my mission to find the best coconut ice-cream in South America (El Chalten are a few cones ahead of Puerto Natales so it appears to be getting better as we head north)!

Day 1, Chaltén to Camp De Agostini

We set off at a reasonable hour and had a really easy walk to our first campsite, De Agostini. De Agostini was to give us our first view of Cerro Torre, an impressive looking spire of granite that is one of the most sought after trophy summits any mountaineer would be proud to own! For decades it was considered impossible to climb, but at 3102 metres (and with my newly found knowledge of climbing, from watching a few docos in Puerto Natales and chatting to my Ecuadorian friends) I recks I could have that peak bagged by afternoon tea, no worries! Since we were on such a short trek this time we managed to sneak in a few vegetables for the pack ride. Tonight we feasted like princesses in the lovely little forest that was our first camp. After dinner we thought we´d read up a little bit from my guide book. ¨Sophs, would you pass me the guide book?¨ enquires Liz.

¨Sophs?¨

¨Um, Liz, yeah, er, about the guide book. It appears that i didn´t pack it!¨

Doh! I was so busy trying not to forget the cards (which I forgot last time) that I actually forgot the guide book (and we didn´t actually need the cards as the weather was bloomin´ perfect the entire time we were there)! All was not lost though, I had cheekily printed out Nick and Jane´s blog before I left NZ and I knew it was stashed somewhere at the bottom of my rucksack, all I needed to do was to find that and we´d be saved! Surprisingly enough, I was right and (since the map they gave us at the start was so out of date and confusing) we were able to make our way around the highlights. Big thanks to you Jane and Nick. Have been thinking about you smilers a lot on this trip!

Day 2 Campamento Agostini to Campamento Poincenot Porridge w/mashed banana for breakfast and then it was off (without our packs) to take a closer look at Cerro Torre. We were blessed with another beautiful day with hardly a cloud in the sky. On reaching the lookout, we sat for a while and watched in awe at yet another beautiful monument to mother Earth. You really feel that you´re in another world here. The air is so clean and tasty (can you say that), the skies are massive and you somehow feel insignificant next to these granite towers. It´s amazing. I could have sat there for hours and hours and hours and....

.....ok, there was more to see. Back at camp we completed another immaculate de-camp and headed north to Campamento Poincenot. We walked through a beautiful wood that was dappled in sunlight, then through a grassy meadow before reaching the shores of Laguna Hija that welcomed us with tiny, lapping waves on a pretty little shingle beach. As I sat and listened to the waves for a few moments I was suddenly reminded that I hadn´t seen the ocean for a while. To those that know me well, not seeing the ocean for a while makes me sort of scratchy at the best of times, but I´d noticed recently I´ve been pretty calm about it. The scenery we´ve been treated to on the trip so far has obviously been doing a great job in masking that underlying need and it felt really good to be getting my ´fix´ from another environment. And how can you not feel free in a place like this?

We walked around the lake only to be joined by another one, Laguna Madre. It was when we were almost around this one that we were treated with our first views of Monte Fitz Roy (that wasn´t from El Chaltén). Well, you can´t help getting excited and wondering what´s next. I would have been keen to start running if it were not for my pack and my dodgy ex-cross country running knee injury that was giving me a bit of jip. Patience is a virtue Jordan! Righto!

By the time we arrived at Campamento Fitz Roy we had the most perfect views of the whole granite towering family. The campsite was absolutely mint; a pretty little forest to pitch the tent and then a few wide open spaces with a pretty little stream that was the perfect place to sit and drink tea by. At this point we could have walked another hour or so up to see the base of the towers, but we decided to leave this until the morning and we spent the afternoon chilling in the sunshine, feasting around the camp stove and kicking back under the starry sky before an earlyish night.

Day 3 Expedition Laguna de los Tres - Well, what´s a landscape like this and a day in Patagonia without a sunrise? I was up and out of the tent (except not out of my sleeping bag) at 0515 and walked an hundred metres or so south to a lovely clearing and plonked myself down right in the middle of it. As was to be expected, the Milky Way was doing her twinkling thing above me and I enjoyed a good hour to myself just gazing up into the deepest, darkest beyond. That site never ceases to amaze me. I´ve always come up with my best ideas and decisions (apart from a couple that were made in the shower) whilst looking into galaxies. Gazing up at constellations has always made me question myself and I´m pretty sure always for the better! This was yet another poignant moment for me on this trip.

Just after I finished my first cup of tea I saw the longest shooting star I´ve ever seen. Since it was so long I used my wish on three people and hoped that Micha, Thomas and Mathias were safe and had somehow overcome their frostbite and would be able to make their summit within the next few days in Torres del Paine. The second shooting star´s wish I´m keeping secret and the five moving satellite thingamy-jigs just confused me even more as to what actually goes on up there!

As the stars slowly disappeared into the dawn of a brand new day, I heard the tent zips of a few more followers around me and decided to go and look for Liz. We found each other down by the stream and sat and watched as the first rays of light hit the tops of the larger towers and worked its way down. It was such a magical setting. I remember sitting there trying to think of a place I´d rather be. Absolutely nothing sprung to mind other than having family and friends with me to experience one of nature´s best. ´Tis booter!
Back to camp to pack a picnic for the little hike up to Laguna de los Tres. OK, so we had a little snooze before we set off and we probably should have got up there for the sunrise, but still, we´re on holiday! My energy levels were at bouncing point when we set off mid morning. It was a pretty steep 450m ascent but I enjoyed every step of it and we were blessed with clear blue skies when we got our first jaw-dropping view of what we came for, the Fitz Roy Massif family! Standing at a staggering 3405m, Monte Fitz Roy is easily the highest peak in the area. It´s very hard to show you some scale but perhaps you can see me standing at the end of the ´sticky-outy´ bit that juts into Laguna de los Tres? YES, that´s me at the point of the red arrow. Aren´t I looking positively fabulous.....??

Anyway, so the Tehuelche people used to call the moutain ´Chaltén´ which means The Peak of Fire, apparently with the belief that it was a volcano as clouds (which they thought was smoke) often form around the peaks. Nevertheless it was some chap called Francisco Perito Moreno that gave Fitz Roy its present name after Captain Fitzroy of the Beagle, who, in 1834 accompanied Mr Charles Darwin (top bloke) to this area and were presumambly the first Europeans to view the peaks up close. A big shout out goes to the peak to the left of Fitz Roy, Aguja de la Silla, Cerro Poincenot to the left of that and then to the right Ajuga Val de Vois, Mermoz and Guillaumet, but I´ll be here all day if I explain how they all got their names.

I´m not sure how long Liz and I sat there for . Sometimes we would just sit and think how amazing it all was and sometimes we´d just sit not knowing how to describe such a place. It was after one of these ´Wow, check this place out´ thoughts that I decided it was time that we built a prayer rock to thank the powers that be for keeping us safe thus far and for giving us the opportunity to experience such a place on a stunningly beautiful day. Liz picked out the rocks and I stacked them, with very rough instructions on what the next size should be. Liz picked each rock perfectly and we were both very proud of the final result and we had a little moment. ¨First of all, we´d like to thank our parents, for if were not for them we´d not be here today.......¨ bla bla blah

From our first view point, we walked around Laguna de los Tres which sits in a glacial hollow, up around the ridge to the south, which gave us another stunning view of the rest of the granite massif towering over another lake that made up the third part of Laguna de los Tres.

As if to make the day ridiculously perfect, not one, not two, but THREE condors decided to sweep down and do their thing above us, soaring over the peaks and down the valley below us. Nice one! And in great formation I might add! The descent back to camp was pretty hard going as my knee was giving me a little bit of jip. The only thing for it was to run back to base camp which I smoked it in half the time, with a round of applause as I ran through the climbers camp on the way! Thanks boys.

The only other part of the trek took in a different view of the glacier further north. We felt that we´d seen enough glaciers for a while, but then we didn´t want to spoil a perfect day by walking back down to civilisation so an unanmous decision was made to stay another night at Campamento Poincenot. Perfecto! We cooked up another feast beside the stream and drank tea in the afternoon sunshine before an earliyish night.

Day 4 Campamento Poincenot back to El Chaltén We took our time walking back to El Chaltén, stopping along the way to take more photographs and to enjoy the sun. I did notice our pace quicken though when homemade ice cream and chocolate was mentioned at the bottom! Just before we reached the bottom of the track we bumped into Michael (the American guy that I had met in Puerto Natales) who had cycled from Calafate to this point and was taking a walk up to one of the lakes. We sympathised with his three day trek into town and made rough arrangements to catch up later. On our return we noticed another campsite situated very conveniently right at the bottom of trek, but on the other side of town from where we were before. We setup camp in record time and headed for ice-cream! I don´t think we got up early enough the next morning to hitch out of El Chaltén but we gave it a go to no fruition. As we were waiting at the entrance of the town we noticed a familiar figure coming towards us on a bicycle. It was Remy (the beautiful but trés mad Frenchman we met at Torres del Paine). We decided to give hitching a miss and made plans to meet Remy and Jonathan later. Funnily enough they had also teamed up with Flo and Ali (the two Brit-birds that we had bought wine for from Camp Chileno when we were waiting for a sunrise at The Torres Camp in Torres del Paine too)! Small World.

With a couple of hours to kill we visited the chocolateria for a long, slow fix in their beautiful log-cabin style abode. We had secured the best table in the house, upstairs on a mezzanine level. Before long our little spot was being eyed-up by a group of climbers that looked rather disappointed that they hadn´t got there first . I invited them up to sit with us which made for a very entertaining afternoon. There were eight of them; a mixture of Polish, Argentinian and Spanish all waiting for another window to attempt a summit. I think quietly they had their sights on Fitzroy but had been disappointed by the weather up there. Out came the beer and a very confusing dice game that became a lot easier the more go´s you got. The boys all agreed that if you don´t have any luck in this game then you´re pretty unlucky in love. Well Liz won the entire championships and I came girt bottom, so I guess their predictions were right!

We met up with Remy, Jonathon, Flo and Ali and went for dinner. Apparently we went to a particularly Chilean restaurant, where everyone orderd steak and I ordered a trout. Although my trout looked and tasted suspiciously like salmon the penguins that sat on our table and threw up red wine for us made up for that and caused much entertainment (photo left it´s the small things)! Had a fantastic night out.

We learnt that Flo and Ali were planning to cycle the Carretera Austral (an highway that runs for about 1240 kilometres (770 miles) between Puerto Montt to Villa O´Higgins through rural sections of mid-Chile), which explained why we saw Remy on a bike earlier and then to much excitement we learnt that Jonathon had been talked into joining Remy in buying an horse and riding up the coast to Cuba! Jonathon is from London and hasn´t so much as said boo to an horse before so I´m looking forward to seeing how that´s going! Photos please smilers!

A few ´quiets´ at the bar before heading back to camp. We rose in the morning to get a lift out of El Chaltén by a tourist bus and hitched as far as the next town north, Tres Lagos.

photo right pre dinner drinks at Camp Inglaterra y France

photo left Liz, Flo, perros (dog) and Ali