Carratera Austral 3 - Northern Half of Chilean Patagonia, 10th to 14th Jan 2020 /  by Nick Hooper

After Jeinimeni, we made our way north, accross Lake General Carrera to Ibanez. From Ibanez we headed out to the Rio Ibanez waterfall and from there, out onto the X723 road, driving through more spectacular scenery , rejoining the Carratera Austral near Cerro Castillo. We spent an hour or so making enquiries about hiking in the area but were put off by the fact that a local (and probably absentee) landowner was charging extortionate sums for hikers to cross a narrow strip of his land in order to get to the hiking area. On balance we decided to carry on north, back through Coyhaique, out towards central-southern Chile. Towards late afternoon we saw a camping sign and drove off the main road a couple of miles to Las Torres camping, not far from Puerto Aysen. The place was run by an old Spaniard named Nacho, a veteran of the Spanish rock music scene who had decided to risk the last of his savings on buying some cheap land out here, when the Chilean government was still trying to attract settlers. Since the 1990s, he and his Chilean wife, Sandra, had been growing organic produce, supplementing it with camping and a hostel. He showed us his veg and lettuce growing operation and he and Ann talked about horticulture enthusiastically. Later that same evening, he and his wife came over to the cooking area with a couple of guitars and he and I jammed for a while and swapped war stories about the European music scene. Next morning, Nacho gave us a lesson in Mate drink preparation and customs from Goucho culture.

Towards the end of the morning, we set off with the intention of getting to the remote coastal village of Raul Marin Balmaceda. Today's hitchhiker was a clinical psychologist from further north - as on previous occasions, a young Chilean spending vacation time in Patagonia as cheaply as possible. Also on this stretch, we passed through Puyuhuapi, an old German settlement dating from the 1930s.

Raul Marin Balmaceda is truly remote. Getting out there was difficult, even for our 4x4. Its location is on the southern boundary of the central temperate rain forest zone and we spent most of a day walking in the ancient woods. A guide we had booked for a wildlife tour in the evening had been delayed by bad weather, so this had to be put off til the next day. During the night, the ferry bringing monthly supplies to the village arrived. On these occasions, the whole population shows up to unload it at 2 in the morning. Nobody was up until lunchtime the next day, but at least the shops had fresh vegetables when they finally opened. Later that day we finally got our wildlife boat tour on the Rio Rodriguez estuary, seeing pelicans and more sea lions. While we were on the water a ferocious wind and rain storm blew up, tossing our little boat like a leaf. Sorry there are no pictures of this because the main priority was to keep my arse in contact with the boat and not drown!

Heading out or Raul Marin the next morning, we turned back south towards Coyhaique as the car was due back at the hire company, stopping to camp at Las Toninas near the Rio Visentiquero. Beautiful purple sunset.

Carratera Austral 2 - Parque Nacional Patagonia, Tamango and Jeinimeni /  by Nick Hooper

Douglas and Kristine Tompkins - Regional Scale Conservation Philanthropy

More than once, I've heard it mentioned in hiking circles that the Patagonia clothing company has bought up a lot of land in Patagonia and given it back to the Chilean government on condition that it remains a National Park. That's not quite true but there is a strong connection and, as it turns out, there is a story to tell that is every bit as inspiring as you could possibly hope. 

Figuring out what has gone on between millionaire conservationist clothing company owners, national governments, and local communities in Patagonia is not as easy as you might think. But it gets a whole lot easier after you stumble across one name in particular. In the 1960s, skiing and climbing enthusiast, Douglas Rainsford Tomkins, started an outdoor gear company called The North Face. The company was very successful but some years later, Tompkins decided to sell his shares in it so that he could help set up a new fashion firm, 'Esprit', with his then-wife, Susie Tompkins Buell.  Meanwhile a friend of his, renowned climber Yvon Chouinard, had set up the Patagonia clothing brand, hiring Kristine McDivitt Wear (a competitive skier) to work in the fledgling business, eventually appointing her as its CEO. In amongst all this, Tompkins and Chouinard found time to undertake some impressive climbing expeditions in Patagonia, with Tompkins also pursuing interests in adventure film making and white water kayaking. In his work life, Tompkins' flair for brand development helped turn Esprit into an iconic business of the 1980s. The company was a phenomenal success, although his marriage to Susie didn't do quite so well and they separated towards the back end of the 80s. Around this time, Tompkins also seems to have become increasingly uncomfortable with the lack of environmental ethics in the fashion industry. He sold his share of Esprit back to Susie and disposed of all his associated interests and assets between 1989 and '94 so that he could concentrate his considerable energy (and accumulated wealth) on environmental projects.

In 1991 Tompkins bought a semi-abandoned farm in the Palena region of Chile. Palena is mostly temperate rain forest, some of it ancient, with some trees that are thought to be 3,000 years old. The aim was to turn the acquired land over to organic production and conservation, protecting it from unsustainable logging and other forms of exploitation that would be harmful to its ecosystems. A year later Tompkins founded an organisation called the Conservation Land Trust (CLT) and, over the next decade, used this entity to buy up over 700,000 acres of contiguous land for the same purpose, mostly from absentee landlords. In 2007 the entirety of the land owned by CLT in the region was donated to Fundación Pumalín, a Chilean foundation formed specifically to manage what is now Pumelin Park. A key condition of the donation was that the Chilean government would guarantee the protection and conservation of the land in perpetuity.

Also during this period, Tompkins met and married the above-mentioned Kristine McDivitt Tompkins, nee Wear (in 1993). It was early in their marriage (perhaps on their honeymoon?) that the couple first drove through the Chacabuco Valley in Chilean Patagonia, then given over mainly to livestock grazing, and imagined what it could be like if it were rewilded. (Bearing in mind, the term 'rewilding' didn't even exist at that time. Doug and Kristine were true pioneers).  So the CLT/Tompkins Model (my phrase) was adapted and applied to the area that has now become Parque Nacional Patagonia. That is, the extensive Estancia Valle Chacabuco was purchased in 2004, it's livestock was responsibly sold off, and a process of restoring grasslands and forests was begun which would slowly and naturally restore wildlife populations. Crucially, the Chacabuco Valley Estancia runs between two existing protected areas, Jeinimeni in the North and Tamango in the South, so that these three sub-reserves now form one contiguous protected area. In 2015, management of the park was handed over to CONAF, the Chilean national parks authority.

However, Pumelin and Patagonia national parks are only part of the story. The Tompkins Conservation* lists the following major land purchases and donations from 1991 onwards. (Pumelin and Patagonia NP are in bold).

1991-2015 711,000 acres - Pumelin Park (Eventually 727,000 acres donated to Pumalin Foundation, 2007)
1994 - 208,000 acres - Corcovado National Park (with Peter Buckley, former CEO of Esprit. Federal land later added and Corcovado NP created in 2005, totaling 726,000 acres)
1997-2007 - 350,000 acres - Iberá wetlands, Argentina
1998 - 94,000 acres - Estancia Yendegaia, Tierra Del Fuego (plus 276,000 acres of adjacent government land added in 2013)
2000 - 165,000 acres - Monte Leon NP Argentina
2002 - 272,000 acres - Iberá Wetlands (Pérez-Companc forestry company, various tree plantations and cattle ranches)
2004 - 175,000 acres - Estancia Valle Chacabuco, Aysen Province, Chile
2008 - 21,000 acres - additional purchase for Patagonia NP (huemul deer-puma interaction study)
2013 - 37,000 acres - El Rincon property donated to Perito Merino NP in Argentina

*(Tompkins Conservation became the umbrella name for CLT and other organisations founded by Tompkins for the purpose of conservation - website, including details of most of the projects noted above can be found here: http://www.tompkinsconservation.org/home.htm)

Even just taking headline figures, Tomkins purchased and GAVE AWAY somewhere north of 2 million acres of land in South America. That's about half the land area of all of the national parks in England and Wales. Another comparison, the land area of Cyprus is about 2,286,000 acres. On top of that, numerous farms and ranches have been purchased and turned over to organic and habitat-preserving production. It is an incredible story of determination, vision and generosity.

Reading around various articles and websites, it becomes apparent that relations between Tompkins Conservation and the Chilean authorities have not always been easy. Because of the large scale of the estates involved in these projects, they have been seen by some as an impingement on Chilean sovereignty, even a threat to national security, and at one stage it was seriously (though inexplicably) mooted that Tompkins might be attempting turn parts of Chile into a 'Zionist Enclave'. In fairness, you can understand some disquiet when a foreigner buys up large areas of land in a given country and then begins to influence or even control economic activity in those areas. Some of these conflicts have been practical rather than just imagined. For some time there have been plans for hydroelectric power plants in Patagonia that would provide cheap energy for Chile, but would flood large areas of land. Tompkins was active in the 'Sin Represas' campaigns against these projects, actively encouraging local opposition. But it probably says a lot about their personal qualities that Doug and Kristine were mostly able to win the trust and cooperation of both government officials and local people in their work. They were resident in Chacabuco for many years and I believe Kristine still is. It probably wouldn't have been possible to undertake projects of this kind 'from afar'. There are bags of examples of Tompkins Conservation engaging closely with local communities throughout its whole history, including assistance with establishing schools in remote areas, community waste management initiatives, and funding of individual and small NGO projects. Local economic impacts also have also been actively considered - for example, the livestock that came with the Chacabuco Estancia purchase was sold off gradually to avoid skewing prices in the local market. 

There is an often repeated pattern when you start to read about ambitious conservation projects in general. They absolutely require the consent and participation of local people, but in return they can create long-term employment and economic stability as well as helping to preserve traditional professions and ways of living with nature. The alternatives - indiscriminate logging, mineral extraction and intensive agriculture - can be relatively fleeting, are subject to the whims of international markets, and eventually send ecosystems and rural communities into irretrievable decline. I suspect that pulling all these interests and apparently conflicting needs into cooperation can only be achieved with rare individual devotion and vision. The story of Tompkins Conservation clearly shows that conservation at regional level is not a simple question of money. The knowledge required, the problem solving, administration, diplomacy, sensitivity to local, regional, and national concerns, minute attention to the myriad factors affecting land use and management, not to mention the sheer physical labour involved... are staggering.

So... in spite of the name and the stories that sometimes circulate, the Patagonia clothing co. has not itself purchased land in Patagonia, although the company (and Yvon Chouinard personally) have been instrumental in many other environmental initiatives and Kristine cites Yvon as a mentor and major influence on her life. The three of them were obviously very close and clearly shared the same passions and values. I say 'were' because Doug tragically died in 2015 after a kayaking accident on Lago General Carrera, on the northern border of Parque Nacional Patagonia. (Yvon was actually with the group that went out on the water that day). Kristine continues to lead and develop Tompkins Conservation with ongoing projects in Chile and Argentina. Doug is buried at a small cemetery in Chacabuco Valley.

Visiting Parque Nacional Patagonia

DSCF4528.jpg

Returning to the story of our own travels, over the course of our preparations and throughout the earlier stages of our trip, Parque Nacional Patagonia became an iconic destination for us. In a way, it came to symbolise and personify the whole region. This was partly due to the mystique surrounding the story I outline above, but also because of the physical difficulty of getting there, which reinforced the historical and ideological remoteness and inaccessibility of Patagonia. There is also the revered position that the region holds in travel literature (through Chatwin and Darwin among others). When you finally get there, the physical landscape itself, with its very visible origins in ancient geological eras, has exactly the mythical look you expect. It would feel perfectly reasonable to see some species of megafauna emerge from the trees, and you tend to look twice at circling condors in case they are actually pterodactyls. Thus, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to travel hundreds of miles to a regional capital we had never heard of, hire a vehicle, and then drive for two days in order to visit the park at all. It was, after all, a pilgrimage.

So it was, we left the Baker Confluence in the late afternoon (see my last post) and arrived at the entrance to Chacabuco and Parque Nacional Patagonia a few hours later. We drove for several miles through the park, in evening light, with herds of wild guanacos either side of the dirt road. In fact, there were guanacos grazing on the Westwinds campsite where we pitched up a short while later. Having organised the tent we set about preparing some food at a communal cooking area where we got chatting to some fellow visitors: Hugh Sinclair and his friends Lorne and Jes. It quickly came to light that Hugh was the author of the Bradt Travel Guide to the Carretera Austral. He literally 'wrote the book'. All three were absolutely charming and we spent a great evening and part of the following morning chatting and sharing stories. Hugh armed us with some top tips for the rest of our time in Southern Chile, and also imparted some gems of insider knowledge about the region and about Tompkins Conservation - he had got to know Doug and Kristine while writing the book (for which Doug ended up writing the Foreword). Hugh, Jes and Lorne moved on to the nearby town of Cochrane the next day, while Ann and I followed an 8-hour walking route that Hugh had suggested for us. (Interesting side note: Hugh and Jes met each other while working in development banking and microfinance - another topic well worth looking up if you're not familiar).

Walking in Valle Chacabuco was emotional. We contemplated the generosity and devotion of what Doug and Kristine had achieved as we walked through a landscape that would not exist without them. As we explored the trails above the valley, we also explored difficult questions relating to the challenges of large scale conservation. Without rich philanthropists, perhaps even nation-states themselves are helpless to conserve wild places in the face of economic forces that demand the greatest and fastest possible financial return from the land, regardless of all else. What kinds of institution should take on this stewardship? How should they be funded and to whom should they be accountable? One thing I will share from our conversations with Hugh - he worries that CONAF may not make as good a job of looking after Patagonia National Park as Tompkins Conservation. He says he asked Tompkins himself about the decision to hand the parks over to the government. Doug's response was that you have very little choice. Governments are the only institutions that are continuous, in which we might invest some hope that the protected status of the land will continue into the distant future. Personally, I am as uneasy about this tenuous relationship between the land, governments and private capital, as I am awestruck by the landscape itself. Private capital on its own feels no obligation. But if Hugh's anecdote about Tompkins' reasoning is true, then it is not that the solution is perfect, but that it may be the only one we have. Arguably, nation-states and even local communities have day-to-day imperatives that do not necessarily include conservation. There has to be a third force.

Tamango

Tamango NP is south of Chacabuco, near the town of Cochrane.

Lunar Valley

The Lunar Valley (Piedra Clavada) is a separate reserve on the eastern border of Jeinimeni NP. Also of note here, Cueva de las Manos, a cave containing ancient paintings that are around 10,000 years old. There is a more extensive and better known (UNESCO listed) example of similar paintings a hundred or so kilometres to the east in Argentina, which we didn’t get to visit because of time constraints.

Jeinimeni

Jenimeni is a large reserve, accessed via Chile Chico. The drive back from Cochrane, along Ruta 7, then east along the southern shore of Lago General Carrera, and finally south via Lunar Valley (see above) to Lago Jeinimeni is absolutely spectacular. Because Jeinimeni is now joined to Parque Nacional Patagonia, it is possible to do multi-day treks between the CONAF campsites near Lago Jeinimeni and the Tompkins Conservation HQ complex in Chacabuco Valley. We went walking for a single day, south of Lago Jeinimeni and as far as Lago Verde. We hope to return to take on more extensive treks in the future.

Finally, big shout out to Steph Dyson and her blog here: https://www.worldlyadventurer.com/carretera-austral/

So many times on this trip, whenever we were planning, one of us would invariably say, ‘what does Steph say about it’?

And Hugh Sinclair’s book is here:
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Chile-Carretera-Austral-worlds-scenic-ebook/dp/B01AWPT8LO/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=hugh+sinclair&qid=1586007617&sr=8-1

Also worth mentioning, Bradt have been producing high-quality travel guides for nearly 40 years. If you want to go wandering in your mind during the current health crisis, or start planning for better times, they have some great offers on many titles at the moment: https://www.bradtguides.com/

(Like a proper, grown-up blogger, I should be clear that I don’t get paid for any endorsements! ; )

Carratera Austral 1 - Coyhaique to Puerto Rio Tranquilo /  by Nick Hooper

Ruta 7, the Carratera Austral (Southern Way), runs from Puerto Monnt to Villa O'Higgins. 1240 odd km in all. It links all the major settlements in the northern half of Chilean Patagonia and at least a dozen National Parks, all of which are unique and have no ready equivalent anywhere else in the world. Together with the roads that branch off either side, its possible to access and drive through some of the most beautiful and remote scenery anywhere on earth.

The Carratera is sometimes called 'The Dictators Highway' because Pinochet did his best to turn it onto a vanity project. In fairness, he did hurry things along a bit and 'inaugurated' the road, but some work had already been undertaken by previous administrations and continued under subsequent ones, finally completing the continuous route (at least in gravel and rubble form) in 2003. I will refer to it as the CA from here on. Apart from being great for (determined) leisure travellers, the CA provides vital road links for countless settlements in the region which, until quite recently, could only be reached by sea, on horseback or from Argentina.

And therein lies another compelling aspect of Chilean Patagonia: the remoteness and inaccessibility means that settler communities have developed distinct characters of their own. What is more municipal services such as healthcare and police have only reached some of these places in the last 20 or 30 years, so that within living memory disputes were sometimes settled by the gun and serious wounds had to be stitched by a spouse or friend with no anesthetic.

Some stories to come in later posts, but in our present context, it's important to understand that the poor condition of the CA and the general difficulty of getting there in the first place make it a legend among adventure travellers and particularly motorcyclists, long distance cyclists, Overlanders, and camper van owners and renters. And millionaire conservationists, of which more later. We were going to be in illustrious company.

Getting Ready

Travelling up and down the CA without your own transport is very difficult. Bus services will get you to some (though not all) major towns but the really interesting places are in between or 10s of km up connecting roads. You can hitch, but that's hit and miss and very time consuming. The only viable option for us was vehicle hire, but even that would not be straightforward because the geography makes it uneconomic for hire companies to allow you to pick up at one location and drop the vehicle off at another. This is why we ended up starting in Coyhaique - the half way point. The plan being to go south and back, then north and back, then fly out of the region from where we started.

So with all this in mind, we spent the best part of a day walking between rental offices to see what was available and at what price. After several hours the best we could come up with for a reasonable price was a high clearance, small 'fusion' vehicle like a Fiat Panda. To add to the frustration, the big name rental places were booked up weeks ahead. We were on the virge of taking the Panda when, right at the end of the day, we spotted a scruffy yard with a shack in the middle of it and a rental sign above the gate. Not untypically for this trip, we ended up doing an important deal with the 'local guy' based on negotiations in approximately one third English, one third Spanish, and one third sign language and belly laughter. We got ourselves a big, 15yo Mitsubishi 4x4 for the price of a Fiat Panda.

I should be clear: a 4x4 isn't a necessity. At present about a third of the CA is paved. The rest is gravel and loose rubble and although it's doable in a high clearance 4x2, if you want the freedom to go off down muddy side roads, a big 4x4 gives a bit of extra confidence. Besides, it was big enough to sleep in if need be. Decision made.

And on the subject of sleeping we went round a few camping shops the next day and picked up just enough gear to make ourselves self sufficient and able to rough camp anywhere we liked. Sorted.

Setting Out

So on the 3rd of Jan we set out on our first leg: Coyhaique to Puerto Rio Tranquilo. A few miles south, we picked up some hitchers who turned out to be Argentine students. We ended up giving lifts to people at every opportunity. The vast majority were young South Americans who couldn't easily afford conventional holidays, or just local folks going to the next town. Excellent for mutual language practice and generally finding out about each others different experiences of life. Or just the 'feelgood' if language or dialects were less penatrable.

The drive to Tranquilo should have taken 4 or 5 hours but a few hours in we stopped at a road block and were told the road would be closed until 5pm - they were dynamiting around the next bend. It was now just after 1! So everyone made the best of it, going for walks and checking out the scenery. It's just the way it goes.

We got to Tranquilo early evening and immediately booked ourselves a boat tour to the Marmol Caves for the next day. The political upheavals had made for a very slow tourist season and the moment we pulled into the waterfront car park we were greeted by an enthusiastic boat operator who quickly won our business.

We found a campsite towards the back of town, got set up, then went for a walk along the beach.

The Marmol Caves

Geological happenstance in the area of Puerto Rio Tranquilo has formed a series of caves and top heavy islands along a section of the shores of Lago Gral Carerra. Rocks desolving and eroding at different rates has left marble-like patterns and structures; strange, irregular honeycombs. Adding the reflections from the crystal clear water of the lake makes it pretty magical. 

The Baker Confluence

Next day we set off south again, picked up our second lot of hitchhikers (two lads from Concepcion further north) and headed towards Cochrane and our next major stop, Parc Nacional Patagonia and the Chucabuco Valley. On the way we stopped off at the Baker confluence where the Rio Neff joins the Rio Cochrane. The Neff is heavy brown with sediment while the Cochrane is more glacial blue so there is a swirling mix of colours plus rapids to boot. 

Xmas 2019 - Ushuaia Again, Calafate, Chile Chico, Coyhaique /  by Nick Hooper

How do you follow Antarctica?

The expedition ship docked back in Ushuaia on the 19th of December and the next major leg of our trip would be the Chilean Carratera Austral, beginning on the 3rd of January. In the meantime, there were still parts of Argentine Patagonia we wanted to see.

But before leaving Ushuaia we took a walk around the residential areas. I always like to do this in other countries if there is time because it reveals a lot that isn't in guidebooks and museums. Patagonia and Tierra Del Fuego still feel very much like 'pioneer' regions. Houses are built from light materials that give them a temporary look. The economics of the region are as harsh as the weather, so most of the dwellings are very small. I'm not certain, but I think a lack of local, naturally occurring mineral-based building resources and the huge cost of transporting bricks and concrete from outside the region probably also contributes. A lot of pent rooves have acute angles so that snow will slide off rather than accumulate. 

El Calafate & Perito Merino Glacier

Further north, El Calafate is a popular stop because of its proximity to the Perito Moreno Glacier. It is said that there are more spectacular glacier faces in SA, such as San Raphael, but these are hard to get to and between Perito and Gray in Torres del Paine, we reckon we properly ticked the glacier box. 

Also in Calafate, quite a good bird sanctuary...

And some decent restaurants, often with traditional Gaucho culture on hand.

El Chalten

El Chalten is a rapidly developing mountain sports/activity hub. It doesn't quite have the same heritage, but it has the feeling of a youthful Fort William or Chamonix. It's two main draws are the majestic Fitzroy peak (of which we had a great view from our hostel balcony) and masses of hiking routes, one of which traverses the southern Ice Field itself for two or three days. We did three day routes: Loma Del Pliegue Tumbado, Laguna Torre and Los Condores. And also walked up the valley to some waterfalls. 

Xmas day itself, pretty quiet. Went out for a meal and had some WhatsApp time with family. 

New Year in Coyhaique

We bussed up to Chile Chico between Xmas and New Year, then on to Coyhaique, which would be our base for Chilean Patagonia and the Carratera Austral. 

Chile Chico is on the southern shore of Lago Gral Carrera. The water is crystal clear and many of these lakes are so large they kind of have their own weather systems with clouds forming above them. Not to mention tempestuous winds crashing down from the mountains, creating swell and surf to rival a small ocean. More on Chico later as we will pass through it again. 

Coyhaique is a funny fish of a town. Very ordinary regional centre, which we grew to like. We had a favourite restaurant, again with a touch of gaucho culture. Went for a walk on New Year's Day, which was blistering hot and drew many locals to the river. But mainly we were planning and gear checking for the three weeks we would spend road tripping the Carratera. 

Antarctica /  by Nick Hooper

Snow, Ice and Rocks

Antarctica is physically divided from the rest of the land masses on our planet in some fairly profound ways. It isn't just that it is a long way from the equator and, therefore, a bit chilly. It's almost a separate world. One physical barrier is the Antarctic Convergence. When the sea in the far south freezes, salt leaches out of it, making the surrounding water more saline and dense. This water sinks and spreads out northwards for hundreds of miles until it meets warm currents coming south. It is then forced upwards creating a sharp change in surface temperatures, which in turn creates a dynamic but marked boundary between separate weather and eco systems. A second barrier is the sea itself. Antarctica is a continent surrounded by oceans. (Unlike the Arctic, which is an ocean surrounded by continents). The southern oceans are uninterrupted, so waves and swell are not limited in scale by maximum distance from land (fetch). Swell can be 8 to 12 metres for long periods over vast areas. Distance between peaks can be many 10s of metres, sometimes over a hundred (sailors used to claim more than a mile). Often these waves are in a kind of permanent breaking state, their summits blasted by relentless 30-40 knot winds; the resulting crests giving rise to the name by which they are known to mariners: the Greybeards. The energy they contain is huge. The southern oceans are so hostile that we cannot really claim to have 'discovered' Antarctica until well into the 19th century and it is the only continental landmass that has never been settled by humans (in the normal migratory sense). We just couldn't get near it. Only a handful of warm blooded (bird and marine mamal) species live there all year round.

On our visit, we went to the relatively accessible Palmer Peninsula, which is above the Antarctic Circle and quite busy in wildlife terms. By Antarctic standards it was also super busy in human terms - over the course of 12 days we actually saw two other ships. We were very lucky with the weather, but even in the lightest breeze you couldn't stay outside for long without proper clothing.

As you would expect, the scenery was stunning. The predomination of whiteness, all but total lack of human structures and complete absence of trees confounds your sense of perspective. The ice-scape goes on for ever and yet iseems to be right in front of your outstretched hand. The thing I like most about the pictures in this section is the purity of natural sculpture and its indifference to scale, proportion, measurement or human aesthetic values of any kind. It has been observed that it is not the hostility of Antactica, but the fact of your insignificance in it that makes it so dangerous. And utterly irresistable. A seducer without a grain of pity. Ask Scott.

Ships, Buildings, People and Yellow Parkas

Undoubtedly one of the best things about our trip was the quality if the guides. Many were academics and all were professional and knowledgeable. Another good thing is that our ship was quite small, with only 200 passengers. That meant that everyone got ashore or on a Zodiac cruise twice a day. (The Antarctic Treaty prohibits larger cruise ships from landing passengers). The ship also had an open bridge policy so we could go hang out with the captain and senior expedition staff any time. Was awesome watching senior officers and helmsman navigate through loose pack ice. Serious concentration for hours on end, dead slow with minute course changes almost every few seconds.

We were kitted out with yellow parkas and neoprene boots (cleaned meticulously after each trip ashore to prevent any kind of artificial transfer of organic material). And so we got to walk on what is surely the most mysterious, remote, romantic and heroic of continents. Heroic because literature still refers to the 'heroic era of Antarctic eploration'. The age of Amundsen, Shackleton and Scott. By way of preparation, many of the passengers, ourselves included, had read Alfred Lansing's 'Endurance', the acclaimed account of Shackleton's 1914-17 expedition. I finished it during our two day crossing of the Drake Passage (in 'moderate' 4-6 metre swell and 20-25 knot winds - the only time I have ever been seasick). Going to Antarctica invokes a kind of reverence both for nature and human spirit that I am not sure can be experienced anywhere else (with the possible exception of space - although it has been noted that in an emergency it is easier to get back from the international space station than it is from the South Pole in mid winter).

There is also a shameful side to human experience in Antarctica. Hunting of various whale and seal species to near extinction and the current shrinking of the shelf ice all around the continent due to climate change. The huge, alien looking structures abandoned on Deception Island are the legacy of final desperate attempts to squeeze every drop of profit out of hunted whales, seals and penguins in industrial numbers. Current populations, although presently in recovery due to protection, will come under increasing pressure as the ice retreats and dissappears.

Wildlife

A few days in we were out in the Zodiacs and I noticed some distinctive ripples in the water, the kind you see when you kick your feet hard just bellow the surface, only much bigger. And all at once I realised that there was an animal larger than a bus a few feet below us. Turned out to be a Minke whale and although not the largest species, could easily have flipped our boat like a beer mat had it been inclined. I should be clear - attacks or even accidents involving harm to humans by whales are almost non existent. It's the gentleness you feel in their presence that is so emotional. We had seen Southern Right Whales off Peninsula Valdes a few weeks back (see earlier post) but they had been 10 or 20 metres from our larger boat and in heavier seas. In the unusual silence and calm of this Antarctic bay, contact of this kind felt very privileged and intimate.

Antarctic fauna in general are wonders of evolution. Just have a look at the Wikipedia articles for Emperor Penguin and Weddell Seal. These are full time Antarctica residents. Their resilience and abilities are near mythical. Even the cute looking smaller penguin species are natural hard cases. Physically larger Skuas will use stealth rather than ferocity to steal an occasional egg becease they are no match for a 'cuddly' little Chinstrap Penguin on the ground.

Encountering these animals on their own terms is close to religious in the kind of emotions it imparts. I hope that comes across in the pictures. Oh and the shot of a lone Gentoo Penguin on an iceberg won the ships photography competition. : )

Enjoy.

Torres Del Paine /  by Nick Hooper

TdelP ‘O’ route is a trek of about 120 kms, done over 7 or 8 days. You can stay at Refugios on the way round, but a lot of people carrying all food and gear with them and do it as independently as possible, which is what we did. So with about about 18kg on your back, up and down a lot of elevations, it’s not the toughest route by any stretch but its no walk in the park either, and relatively long for a self-sufficient trek (depending on how you define it). Most importantly though, it has two iconic and unique vistas which are, frankly, mind blowing.

The first of these is Glaciar Grey on day 4 which greets you as you come over the John Gardner pass at 1200m after a 3hr ascent through some fairly deep snow. It is about 5km wide and stays with you as you walk down the side of it for most of the next day.

The second is Las Torres themselves, the unmistakable 3 towers on the last day. The day we went up, the glacial lake in front of it was glass-calm when we arrived, gloriously sunny with little cloud. This was quite lucky as the peaks are often shrouded in mist.

But every day was amazing in a different way. For example on day 1 a bunch of horses joined us on the trail and we walked with them for a few hundred metres like we were part of their herd.

For all that, I have to say that TdelP is probably no longer at its pristine best. It now has the mixed blessing of great popularity and doesn't feel very remote. There were quite large hiking groups on some sections and a lot of noise late at night on a couple of the campsites. A large number of casual hikers do the shorter W route or day walks in the area. But that definitely doesn't spoil it altogether.

And the camaraderie among those doing the whole ‘O’ is awesome. The lads in the group shot (and one of the women) all swam out to the berg in the lake the morning after the pic was taken. Nutters! They were a great bunch, composed of sub-groups from 3 or 4 countries and charming to run into a few times on the way round. And a few other places since. Biggest shout, though, to Christophe, Alexandra, Yolanda, Tai, Lu and Ben, who we will always think of as our TdelP buddies. Hope you guys are well and look forward to connecting again soon.

Glaciars Balmaceda and Serrano /  by Nick Hooper

Not a great deal to say here. We got a longish boat trip through the fjords above Puerto Natales to see a couple of glaciers. Also had our first proper condor sighting. Stopped at an Estancio on the way back for a slap up nosh and more photogenic stuff. Good day.

Tierra Del Fuego and Estacia San Gregorio /  by Nick Hooper

This was a day trip from Punta Arenas. First stop was Porvenir where we learned some more about the indigenous people who inhabited southern Patagonia before Europeans arrived.

Then we went to a super excellent King Penguin colony, miles from anywhere on Inutil Bay. There is only one species of penguin that are senior to these - Emperors. To see an Emperor you need to get below the Antarctic circle and hire a private helicopter to go the last 100 miles or so. So within reason we think we have nailed it on the Penguin front. Kings are better looking anyway.

After that we went to Cerro Sombrero, a town built by the Chilean state oil company in the 60s. You can see it's pretty surreal. We then crossed back over the Strait of Magellan, stopping off at Estancia San Gregorio before returning to Punta Arenas.

Some observations…

One reason travel is so valuable is that whole cultures can otherwise remain unseen and unknowable if you do not know other languages. At least at Internet level, there is very little writing in English about the indigenous people of Patagonia or, for that matter, about social history in South America pre- or post-colonial. What there is is startlingly lacking in detail. Visits to local museums, historic sites, and guides we met opened the tiniest crack for a non-Spanish-speaking-European to get a glimps of what I suddenly realised was a whole other world. I mean, of course its obvious with hindsight. Whole swathes of culture from the Spanish world and pre-colonial American cultures have never been translated into English. Like as not, the Anglophone world is an impenetrable mystery to some other cultures. But it is one of those things that hits you quite hard when you actually experience it.

Needless to say, the story of the Patagonian people ends in tragedy as it does for all peoples who are unable to defend themselves against colonial invasions. The various peoples of middle and Southern Chile and Argentina actually held off both the Incas and the Spanish and it wasn't until the late 19th century that a big enough profit motive was found and large scale exploitation of land and labour became feasible and inevitable. The native people were forced out of their way of life and into wage slavery or hunted like animals for financial reward. The profit came from sheep farming and export of wool to Britain via the Falklands. Estancia San Gregorio used to process hundreds of thousands of sheep each year. The industry declined steeply when wool prices plummeted after WW1 with immigrant workers and descendents of the natives bearing the economic brunt. In Argentina they were shot in their hundreds when they rose up in the early 1920s - mostly those of ‘Indian’ appearance. An ominous precursor of the brutality that would be deployed against labour organisers and activists in Chile and Argentina in the second half of the 20th century.

It was noted in a museum exhibit that this history is made more difficult to stare down for Argentinians since more than 50% of the current population have indigenous DNA. An awkward mirror from which both the victim and purpetrator stare back.