Puerto Natales - In Which Hippy Waxes her Lyricals - 8 Feb 2003
In and around Puerto Natales
Foxes, glaciers, mint ice bergs
A cruise at last
The family that ran the hostel were just a little odd. They were the sort of family, that seem to all look like a variation upon a theme, which puts beyond doubt their mutual parentage. The only distinguishing features were age and the results of food indulgences. More worrying was the vacant expressions of the younger members that revealed the fact that they found the most simple mental task a challenge. The isolated nature of this place especially in winter time, may account for the apparent contracting gene pool, or is it a sign that a new species of man development to adapt to the bleak surroundings.
It has to be said that Puerto Natales bears a striking resemblance to Askham in Furness. I shall leave the genetic inferences to the reader.There are lots of things to see and do, based on trips from Puerto Natales. The town itself has little to offer - no museums, zoo or anything. All the same, we chose to take a day doing nowt but book some excursions and find out about options for visiting the national park up the road. Drifting around in town were an odd looking couple of Germans. They were of pretty much equal height with matching hair but easily distinguishable by his bright yellow coat and her lack of beard. They did not engage us in conversation.
We settled on a boat trip up the nearest channel to go and see glaciers, seal lions and cormorants. This would be followed with a day trip into the park to see the famous towering rock formation.
The following morning, the weather had taken a turn for the worse. High winds were blowing at the window which was not too well sealed. Our charming hostess looked rueful and suggested that the boat was unlikely to sail today. Stuff and nonsense, it was not this spirit that led to the sinking of the Armada. We downed our breakfast and made for the harbour. Sure enough, the boat was being filled with willing passengers and appropriate forms being filled out. Drifting around in the cabin of the boat were an odd looking couple of Germans. They were of pretty much equal height with matching hair but easily distinguishable by his bright yellow coat and her lack of beard. They did not engage us in conversation.
We waited for all of the passengers to board and then an announcement was made that the ship would not be sailing that day due to the inclement weather. I guess we should have seen it coming. We were given the option of taking the tour on another day. We should have seen that coming.
As we have already said, there is little to do in Puerto Natales. We kicked our heels for the day and were pleased to have arranged to eat out with Clare, Josh and, hopefully, Graham as it gave us something to look forward to.
Sure enough, Graham arrived in the early evening. He had managed to cut the journey time to 34 hours by standing hopefully at a cross roads between Punta Arenas and Puerto Natales. We chatted in the kitchen of their hostel for a while and then went out in search of food. Josh entertained us with his knowledge of Spanish learned from Bob the Builder. ìCan we fix it?î ìSi, podemosî A delightful evening ended with an agreement to do it all again tomorrow.
Foxes, glaciers, mint ice bergs
At last, things kickstarted in P.N. The following day, the weather proved fair. It didnít matter, really as the bus trip around the national park at Torres Del Paine would go in any circumstance. We were a bit sad to be doing a bus tour rather than a bit of semi serious walking, but the options had proved very limiting. Walking in the park is possible and indeed encouraged. Refugio beds cost 17 US dollars a night - this in a country where the hotel beds cost 4 pounds! Food is expensive and the weather extremely variable. I wimped out a bit, feeling that it could be an expensive disaster if it rained constantly for 4 days. Also, information was difficult to find, even in a town dedicated to serving the walkers¥ every need, and even more difficult to find in English. I hope that others of you would have done the same.
First stop was the Milodon Caves. Here, the skin of an ancient creature had been found and so a fairly convincing stab could be made at recreating the beast that had worn it. At the entrance to the cave was a charming 10 foot high plastic recreation of that very beast.
It looked delightful with the Bolton Wanderers¥ scarf round its neck. The scarf was out trying to gain good karma from the spiritual aspect of the park. I must confess that there are times when I just donít understand PatÖ
The rest of the cave did not really have much to recommend it other than the impressive dimensions. Still, as the first stop on a days itinerary it showed promise. Hippy and I discovered a new creature to entertain ourselves with. I know we are extremely immature but in moments of extreme boredom, we entertain ourselves with our impersonations of animals; merekats, penguins and all sorts. Now we have added the smilodon to our collection. According to the signs at the cave, the smilodon is the alternative name for a sabre-toothed tiger. We think maybe someone was having a laugh, there.
You can imagine the conversation between 2 scientists over a few beers.
Come on now, what can we call this new animal fossil we have discovered
Felix largas dentos
Naa, that¥s boring we always have those Latin names. Letís call it a ¥Smilodoní it looks smiley with those teeth
Bet you wonít
Bet you I will
Beer says you wonít
Done
Next stop was a short way up the road where passing a small hummock the Torres del Paine hove into view. This is an impressive pile of rock, indeed and we were overjoyed that at last the weather was in our favour adding a nice bit of sky for dramatic effect.
We were treated to a couple of herds of guanacos (Iím not sure of the plural noun here, maybe itís a caravan), these are mini llamas which themselves are mini camel like things. The guancos are slightly more elegant and graceful versions of their relatives, but they had not manage to remove the silly looking expressions from their gene pool. So that they were afflicted by the rubbery gormless yet enigmatic facial features as their African cousins. They were also a few wild rheas which are mini ostriches. Having only a few months ago been in Africa, the similarities between the 2 continents fauna cannot be ignored and the undeniable truth of continental drift kind of slaps you in the face.
During the day I got the animal spotting badge by seeing a couple of Patagonian hares, a small grey fox loitering around a view spot presumably awaiting titbits from careless tourists. Unfortunately being on a guided trip as against our own transport, meant I would say ¥look thereís an xí and by the time the others had turned the bus had moved on and the animal had run off. So without verification by independent observation my award is pending further confirmed sightings.
Other bits of the park gave alternative views of the same. Each of them a delight. The only fly in the ointment and this takes a pretty huge amount of whinging is that none of the lakes were still enough to take one of those reflection shots. However, the colour of the glacial melt water lakes was an extraordinary milky green - very beautiful but might have made any reflections look a little odd. For those you lucky enough to have seen this type of water before, you will now how stunning it can be, and for the rest of you we hope that the photos are OK, to help you to picture it yourself.
They scenes before us never failed to impress. The dramatic raggedy towers of rock, that were the parks namesake, dominated the area. We saw them from many an angle that day, each a new perspective of geological grandeur. And beneath them the translucent glacier simmering its milky complement creating the most surreal views. They were the type of colours that if you see in a photos you tend to believe that the developing has gone a bit wrong, or in a painting that the painter have been on a fantastical phase when she painted it
There was a small but perfectly formed set of waterfalls, too. Here we took a short walk from the bus (toughing it out, eh) and on the way back, the other tour buses discharged their cargo of grockles. Many of them were familiar faces from the ship. There was even an odd looking couple of Germans. They were of pretty much equal height with matching hair but easily distinguishable by his bright yellow coat and her lack of beard. They did not engage us in conversation. We also re-bumped-into Trevor and Pamela, a couple from Harrogate that Iíd chatted with. Small world.
The falls were a silvery moss green. My favourite stop at any set of falls is not the conventional frontal view but a close up side view, just as the water falls over the edge, and the curtain falls from the calm of the river that feeds and then plummets downwards. Just at that point the rich velvety colours are formed before the foam of water has time to form. Here the colours did not disappoint, the silvery green, transformed into a translucent turquoise. Personally it is something I could have sat and watched for hours, but the bus was awaiting and the steady stream of tourists did nothing for the tranquillity.
By the time weíd handed around the jammy dodgers weíd struck up a reasonable bit of banter on the bus. At the back were Alan and Ed, a couple of biker male nurses from Arizona. (Iím sure Andy Smith would have something to say about that) In front of us were a couple of spooning Chileans from Santiago who we can surmise were on their honeymoon. Strangely, all they seemed to have brought with them was a camera and a bottle of Ballantineís whisky. At the front were, separately, a retired stockbroker from Britain and a nice local chap who said nothing but smiled a lot. At lunch it transpired that the stockbroker should have been provided with a boxed lunch for he was on a slightly more sophisticated version of the trip than we. The lack of hamper proved to be something of a problem for him, but we found a place that knocked up a vegetarian sandwich for him and things improved somewhat. The courting couple broke out scotch as a digestif after lunch. Now we were really starting to bond.
The grand finale proved to be the Lago Grey. Even as we alighted from the bus we could see the electric blue icebergs at the outflow end of the lake. We asked the driver how far it was up to the glacier. When he told us it was 15 km we decided to shelve our plan of walking up to it in the 2 hour stop that we had here. There is a boat trip too but we didnít have time to do this so settled on the walk that was on offer. In fact, we had the most delightful walk along the moraine beach at the end of the lake over to the gathered icebergs and then around a little verdant peninsular that gave alternative views of these amazing blue things. In the open the wind was extraordinarily strong and cold, blowing straight down from the ice field. Surprisingly on the peninsula there were little dells with grass and flowers, where it was warm and sunny. My stroll on the peninsular was accompanied by the rather plummy stockbroker who despite his maturity had a rather enchanting naivety about the world, being seemingly bemused that the Chileans were going out to dine at 11pm when he was returning to bed down for the night. He embraced the obvious beauty of the scenes before us and relished its subtleties in a way that mirrored my own emotions.
For me the icebergs were possibly the most beautiful things I have ever seen. Apart from me, of course. Their translucent sky blue colour gave full understanding to the meaning of ice blue. Their shape had been moulded by the wind and the physics of melting to form feminine curvaceous sculptures that were more Dali-ish than Salvador himself could have created. Some of these manifestations defied nature with delicate arches of ice, slender peaks stretching skywards. Their size added to their beauty some of which must have been at least 30m of majestic wonder. Imagine this if you can with the backdrop of a milky pale green lake and an ice blue glacier in the distance at the end of the lake. Somehow I feel that if God (easy, Hippy) did create the world it may have been easier if he had not put such stunning parts of his handiwork so difficult to access, at the Southern tip of the world. But maybe he is omnipresent, omnipotent and omniselfish.
When we got back to the beach it became clear what the whisky was about. There were clusters of Chileans breaking off bits of the glacier ice to have with their hooch. When I came out from my glacier paddling which they all found very brave (there are times when I really donít understand Pat) they generously offered me a cup of cheer. It would have been churlish to refuse. Hippy had been most concerned about me getting frostbite in the water. Oh, she is a love. The Chilean couple had also come prepared with a Chilean Magallenic flag and as we stood for a group photo with whisky in hand displaying this provincial flag, I could sense that there is huge Chilean pride.
Back on the bus and an uneventful ride back to P.N. All in all a most satisfactory day. We had been incredibly lucky with the weather - able to see the tops of all the mountains - apparently it is only as good as this for 5 or 6 days a month.
Hippy had a Hippy moment (I was feeling a bit groggy and not in the mood for socializing. OK I was also being a little neurotic) and stayed home while Esther and I went to dine with Clare and Graham. As we sat in their lovely hostel kitchen we thought it would be nice to cook a stew up for a change and rather, as I had intended, than us doing the cooking, we were invited to join them for stew the next night.
MaÒana the weather was fine again - even less wind, maybe. We were on for the glacier cruise this time. We were given all of the details as we boarded. There would be a 4-hour trip up the fjord where we would pass a cormorant colony and a sea lion colony before taking an hour walk up to the glacier. Then a four-hour trip back again.
It started well; the boat was smooth, we got a cup of coffee and a roll, the cormorants were out in force and performed fantastically for us and then there were the sea lions. To my mind three sea lions does not a colony make. They were hard to see, at that, huddled as they were into a small overhang in the rocks.
After another two hours we got up to the glacier and again we were at the bottom end of its run off lake. This time, though, there was only a short walk to take us up to the very face of it. Round a corner we bumped into Trevor and Pamela again. This time we were chatting about how we kept bumping into them when they asked if we were thinking of heading to El Calafate the next day, as they were. I turned out that their package had included a bus ride that they had not noticed until after they had bought a plane ticket for the same route. The upshot was that they had a couple of gratis free and for nothing tickets for that very trip. And by a strange coincidence it was indeed our next planned leg. We arranged to meet them back in town to exchange beer for tickets. I am beginning to get into this karma thing and it certainly did seem as though our karma had changed for the betterÖ
Despite the rain the glacier did not fail to impress. We were able to get close to frontal wall of ice and the warming temperatures of the summers meant that the glacier was like giant blue deep frosting on a cake of the world. The crevices of the frosting being maybe 10m deep. As the glacier pushed against the rocks at the edge and the glacier was pushed high to form a ice peak mirroring the Andean mountains behind in shape and colour.
Back at the boat, the passengers had changed for some reason. As a result our boat now contained an odd looking couple of Germans. They were of pretty much equal height with matching hair but easily distinguishable by his bright yellow coat and her lack of beard. They did not engage us in conversation.
Back in town we were on a mission to see if Esther could get the ëover the Andesí flight up to El Calafate while me and Hippy went on the bus. It all fell into place and when we went out for a quick coffee before going down to see Trevor and Pamela, there they were in the coffee shop. Kismet seems to be back in our favour. Itís all happening, tomorrow to Argentina and cheap stuff again.
It is great when everything seems to just drop into place, and it feels as though the Gods are working with you and not against.