Patagonia: Chile to Argentina
**In November 2019 The Torres del Paine ‘W’ Trek became Sylvia and Brian’s fifth BucketList adventure completed together. It is also the furthest they have every ventured for a hike. Immediately afterward, we hit the road for Argentina to tackle yet another Bucket List adventure…Fitz Roy.***
Our adventure in Patagonia covered two weeks in total, and not one day passed passed during that time when we were moving from one place to another in some fashion. Each day we were taking some sort of plane, bus or boat to go somewhere…or else walking there under our own power. Even the single planned ‘zero’ travel day built into our itinerary ended up turning an almost eight hour “great luggage chase.”
We had almost no time to relax…and this day, the one following our completion the W hike and the middle point of our expedition, would be no exception. Even though we would have a 48 hour break from hiking, there was still had much to do. Each of these days would begin with a long bus ride, and then when we got to our destination, there was too much to see and do to merely stay in the hotel room.
From Puerto Natales we had a long journey ahead of us to the second destination on our ambitious itinerary — Los Glaciares National Park of Argentina, home of the storied Cerro Fitz Roy. This bus ride, between Puerto Natales and the Argentine tourist city of El Calafate, would in fact be the longest bus leg of the trip. From there it was still another day, and another long bus ride, before we would arrive at El Chaltèn and the park.
Almost every day began early and this was no exception; we said good by to the extremely helpful staff of the excellent Hostal America and went back up the hill to the by now very familiar environs of the bus terminal. We had spent so much time there already were practically on a first name basis with its resident pack of stray dogs.
A word about the buses in this region. Those buses that ply between the major tourist destinations here (we’re not talking about the local ones) are generally large, roomy, comfortable, driven by professional drivers and arrive and leave more or less on schedule.
The most annoying thing about them is sometimes, even if you book tickets ahead of time, there are additional fees required, or actual hard copies of tickets need to be presented rather than virtual copies; and sometimes there are fees associated with printing out hard copies, too; and sometimes fees can only paid in cash and in the denomination of the resident country. This made for some awkward scenes at the bus stations, with Sylvia again translating for groups of people. Apart from this we had no issues with the buses themselves.
At any rate, we were soon on our bus rolling toward El Calafate. The first part of this ride, on Chilean roads out to the town of Cerro Castillo (not to be confused with the volcano to the north.) Here, there is a border station, as the Argentinian frontier is just a few miles away.
On the trip out, there was not too much of a problem here. We stopped at this outpost and filed through Chilean customs, who checked out papers and confiscated the tourist entry card we were given upon entry. We would get another, presumably, when we re-entered the country.
Then it was back on the bus and on to Argentina.
The roads immediately turned to dirt tracks, and the huge bus slowed to half speed. Two things were readily apparent. First was that we were out in the middle of nowhere…miles of rolling, open pampas stretched away on all sides of us, and we could see no buildings at all (folds in the land even hid the border station after a while.)
The second was that the Argentinean side of this area is far less developed than the Chilean side. Their principal attractions in Patagonia are clustered further north, around El Calafate and El Chaltèn, or even further north than that around Bariloche; most tourists do not arrive by means of a lonely, windswept Chilean border crossing out on the Pampas. Thus, there is almost no tourist infrastructure in this part of Argentina. In fact, there is not much infrastructure at all, apart from that which supports sheep herding and mining.
The bus wound its way down this dirt road until what appeared to be an old, dilapidated farm house set amidst a series of burned out ruins hove in to view. Apart from the Argentine flag flying overhead and the buses parked outside, this might have been mistaken for a long abandoned farm. In fact it was the border outpost.
Right away it became clear that there were going be delays and monkeyshines at this crossing. First there were several buses stopped along BOTH sides of the road, coming and going. People milled about in a confused group, some waiting in a line that stretched out of the building, and some simply standing around in confusion with no understanding of what was going on.
To make matters worse, a very large Brazilian motorcycle touring group (we hesitate to call these guys a ‘gang’ since the average age was fifty or more) were also in residence. Motorcycles were parked about everywhere, and men in leather jackets with Brazilian flags on them milled about with the bus tourists.
Luckily we had no particular place to go that day…otherwise the unexpected delay might have proven serious. We spent at least 45 minutes sitting in the bus waiting for tourists and cyclists ahead of us to clear out; once out of the bus and in line, it was another good 45 mins before all the papers were processed and everyone returned to the bus. We were at least able to use the banos here. The border station itself was obviously understaffed and unable to handle even what traffic they were currently seeing.
This was one of the first indications we had that Fitz Roy, which had for years remained largely below the Trekking world’s radar when compared to Paine, is no longer an unknown quantity. With popularity of Paine now ascendant and bookings getting increasingly difficult to make, many tourists are now opting for the far easier, less regulated El Chalten. You can just show up here and hike…and many people do. As we were about to find out, this is no longer a place to go and escape the crowds.
After the lengthy delay we were back on the road. The bust turned off the dirt road and onto a narrow but fully paved two lane highway which turned out to be Argentine Route 40 — the highway that parallels the Andes. As we had already seen, this is a popular motorcycle touring route in South America. From here on in we made good time and saw few other vehicles, and almost no signs of development; we sped across an empty, featureless pampas under cloudy skies.
The bus turned off for a pit stop at a gas station travel plaza in the middle of nowhere, which was still quite overrun with people since it was the only gas station for miles; we met up with bikers again as we bought some snacks. Then it was on to El Calafate. Two horas, we were told. Two hours.
We both fell asleep at some point. Brian awoke to find the road was now snaking through broken country; ridges and hills hid the views, and vicunas sprinted away from the passing bus. Then we crested a rise and…
There below us was enormous Lago Argentino, and by its shores, the gateway city of El Calafate. That was where we were going. The lake is a formidable obstacle…twenty miles wide, over 500 miles in surface area, and well over a thousand feet deep at its lowest point, Lago Argentino is the biggest freshwater lake in Argentina. But what caught Brian’s eye was what lay further beyond it.
Across this great lake a row of jagged peaks was rising. But along this continuous saw blade of pointed granite, one massive tooth stood out. There it was at last, the mountain we had come to see…Fitz Roy. We could also the the jagged point of Cerro Torre, tall and straight like an exclamation point. This tantalizing glimpse soon vanished from view, hidden behind nearer ridges as the bus dropped down into El Calafate.
There is little notable to say about out time in El Calafate, apart from the very fine food we enjoyed. Sylvia had been dying to dine on Argentinian beef. Well, over the next few days, we would dine on little else. Sure beats re-hydrated camp food.
El Calafate itself we liked, but we found it the least authentic and most touristy of the three smaller towns we stayed in. At any rate, we had no time on this trip to sight see some of the best attractions here such as the Perito Moreno Glacier — as large as Glacer Grey in Torres but even more impressive to look at. Our itinerary here gave us little time to sight see or do anything, really, apart from rest and eat. Which was just fine by us…we needed to get out tired bodies ready for the next stage.
And so it was that we were back on the bus the next morning to complete the last leg of the voyage: to El Chaltèn, the little town right amidst the mountains, actually inside the national park itself, from which we would do all our hiking. We had heard many good things about this place, and we were very much looking forward to seeing it.
This bus trip was again long, almost three hours, as the road skirts Lago Argentino and another huge lake, Lago Viedma, to get to El Chaltèn. But unlike the previous day there were no borders to cross, no delays and no surprises. We also had the benefit of a superbly sunny and clear afternoon…as we approached the park, the entire Fitz Roy Massif was laid out before us almost with hardly a cloud in view, a rare thing in this magical place.
We could only hope for a day this nice when we hiked. A voice in the back of Brian’s mind wondered, quietly, if this would be the extent of our luck on this trip…was it too much to ask for too glorious days? Had we arrived a day too early? But he dismissed this voice. We had just arrived and there was no cause for pessimism yet.
Finally the bus rolled into El Chaltèn and we were clomping through the streets of time to locate our room, which was located near the edge of town. Looking down on us like a massive eavesdropper was the towering crown of Cerro Fitz Roy, one of the worlds most iconic mountains and most challenging mountaineering peaks. Man, what an impressive sight!
We had three days in El Chaltèn. We planned — or rather hoped — to do three days of serious hiking…assuming we had three days of good weather. Unlike Torres, we could and would save the best hike of the three for the day with the best weather. And that hike — the one Brian was actually looking most forward too on the whole trip — was Laguna de los Tres. It was reputed to be a hard one.
The weather forecast did not loom promising. The next day was predicted to be a washout, the day after that, iffy. Only our third day in town promised the kind of weather to match this one.
As we went to bed that night, our bellies full from an excellent steak dinner, a wind and rain storm whipped up and showcased the force of Patagonian weather…doors banged and windows rattled continually all night long through the hostel. We wondered…could any promise of good weather be kept in this place?
Did You Know? Though Lago Argentino is Argentina’s largest lake, it is still nowhere near the largest in South America. That title belongs to Lake Titicaca on the Peruvian/Bolivian border.
UP NEXT: Washout at El Chalten