Puerto Natales and Torres del Paine (Part 1)

Another mammoth long boring bus journey that crossed four immigration points finally brings us to the Chilean town of Puerto Natales. The wind is blowing a gale and I have to tighten my headscarf in order that my toupee stays in place. The wind chill factor must be at least -250 and the streets are full of brass monkeys clutching their groins.

We have been trying to arrange a hiking trip around Torres Del Paine, however its a Bank Holiday here on Monday and everything is closed for two days. Boo. For some reason that for the life of me I cannot remember why, I have agreed to go on a five day hike around some mountains; because of the inaccessability there are just a handful of refugios scattered around the trail where we can camp for the night. YES I KNOW, CAMP!!! I must be bonkers! Ad has been having some email conversations with a trip organiser, trying to reserve places at the refugios, but the replies are sounding a little strange. They want us to pay up front before even receiving a confirmation that places have been booked. The guy is working in Chile but they want our credit card details faxed to London who then, apparently, will inform Chile that they have received the monies and then he will try to do the bookings. We want to start the hike on Tuesday but are not sure whether this is going to possible because of the Bank Holiday. The guy tells us to keep checking our emails for confirmation. This all sounds a bit dodgy to me.

We resign ourselves to the fact that we ain't gonna be able to do anything until the Tuesday morning and kick ourselves for getting involved with this trip organiser as we can arrange everything directly in Puerto Natales: which in fact we do and cancel with email-man who then sends us a really snotty note telling us that he has basically been working all over the bank holiday weekend just to reserve our places. We know this is a lie as we have been to the office in the town that he has been liaising with...he has sent one email to them. Smelly man!!


Five days in the wilderness!!! Walking with backpacks!! Sleeping in tents!! On the floor!! Eating bugs and berries!! Doing poohs in ditches and wiping my arse on leaves!!! What on earth does one pack for such a trip!!

We decide that instead of taking both our packs that we shall put everything we need in one bag. I hate carrying things. Once the bag is packed it weighs a ton. This is gonna be fun walking around with that on me back. Ad pulls everything out of the bag to check that we only have the bare essentials. Cheek!! Apparently I have to leave behind my sparkly boob-tubes, leopard print off the shoulder number,4 pairs of stilettos, hair straighteners, make-up bag and curling tongs!! How on earth am I going to survive.


Sometimes I feel like Princess Diana. There are three of us in this relationship. Me, Adrian and the Camera. I have come to refer to her as Camilla. Camilla gets to go on the hike all wrapped up in her own little comfy bag whilst I have to lug around a backpack the size of Ireland on my poor burdened shoulders. Oh the humiliation.

Day one and we catch a the bus to the National Park. To access the first refugio we firstly cross a lake -on a boat of course not swimming-the colour of which is an outstandingly exquisite turquoise blue. We get our first glimpse of the reason that we are here - the Torres Del Paine mountains. Imposingly grand tombstone-like walls of rock rise threateningly from the surrounding mountain range.

After docking and a quick bite to eat we head off for our first days trek. The path that we are taking is called the W Circuit, basically because the trek goes in a W....makes sense innit. The first day, on the left hand part of the W, is supposed to be a three hour easy hike that leads to Glacier Grey at the tip, and where we shall spend our first night.


Off we go! The first two hundred metres is a piece of piss, strolling along a flat path surrounded by pretty flora, then we hit the first slight uphill path. Half an hour later I'm knackered...fuck me I have another five days of this!! I'm now finding every excuse to stop: I need a drink; my backpack is not sitting right; oh I got an itch; one of my legs feels like its coming lose at the hip! I'm starting to realise that this is not gonna be as easy as I thought. Why do hills have to go up; I much prefer flat hills; I need a fag.

The tracks are well marked but everytime we come to a downhill bit my heart sinks: downhill is always followed by uphill!!. Disconcertingly an 80 year old woman with a back-pack the size of an articulated lorry runs past us like she is out for a gentle jog along Brighton Promenade. Blimey I'm so unfit.

We reach the top of what feels like Mount Everest but in reality is little more than a mole hill when compared to the surrounding mountains. Below us is Largo Grey which stretches towards our final first day destination. We have been walking for about 2 hours and think that we have past the half way point. A little further and we spot our first iceberg. A huge piece of brilliant dazzling blue ice that has detached from the glacier and floating majestically around the lake.

This hike is supposed to be easy. I'd bleedin hate to go on a hard one!! After a constant uphill walk of another hour we reach a peak where we see, in the distance, the glacier. Yipee cant be far now. Two hours later and we still havent reached the end. My legs are killing me and because most of the walk is through wooded areas we aint seeing much really either.

After scrambling down what to me is a sheer cliff face for another three-quarters of an hour we finally reach the refugio. The gently three hour walk has taken us over five hours and the thought that we have to make the trek all the way back in the morning makes me want to eat chocolate and ice cream until I'm sick. Fortunately, because we are renting all the camping equipment from each refugio, the tent is already set up for us, so at least we dont have to contend with all that shit.

The refugio is situated right on Largo Grey and about 10 minutes from a vista of the glacier. After ten minutes rest we set off to have a peak. The weather is not too great and the view is good but could be better in good light. At one side of the glacier is a smaller lake where hundreds of pieces of ice have broken away and congregated at the lakes edge. Ad, ever searching for the perfect photo, clambers down a vertical, shingle and rock strewn precipice, with Camilla on his back, taking his life in his own hands, to snap away at the twisted, slow melting formations that are waiting to be immortalised. The whole lake and glacier is eerily beautiful. It's just a pity that we can't get closer.

Day two. After a fantastic nights sleep on a rock hard floor with just a one inch thick foam mat for comfort I wake up feeling like I've been run over by a steam roller. My legs are hurting and every bone and puny under-developed muscle in my whole body is crying out in pained protest. This is fun. A quick breakfast of bread and water and we begin the arduous journey back the way that we came yesterday. Despite my muscles protesting for the first half an hour the trek back doesnt seem so bad and in an almost perverse way I almost enjoy the walk...sort of like how you can almost enjoy sticking red hot pokers in your eyes!! The journey back takes us another five hours but having left quite early we have most of the afternoon to just lounge by the turquoise lake and wander on some little half hour treks taking in the scenery. Tomorrow is going to be a big day. We have to traverse the whole middle part of the W. It looks like from the map that we have that if we go all the to the top of the middle and return to the bottom of the second 'down stroke' that it should take us about 12 hours!! Fucking hell!!

Day three. We set off early. This is gonna be hard. I`m bleedin knackered. But at least we are gonna be seeing some different things today. Some big fuck-off mountains are rising spectacularly to our left and today we are gonna be circum-navigating their base. Hiking is a funny old thing. I'm not quite sure why people do it. You walk for fucking hours and you are still seeing the same things. Yes of course its nice being out in the countryside but when you are walking through bushes and trees, I'm sorry but it gets a bit boring.

We trudge on relentlessly. Just three days left I tell myself. Up hills and then down hills. The big fuck-off mountains are still there on our left, the vista changing very little as we march forward. Through bushes, through trees. A new lake comes into view. It is all very beautiful but the exertion ratio to what we are actually seeing don't seem to add up to me. Am I missing something about hiking? On a good note, my back seems to have got used to carrying a pack containing six elephants. Ad has a good whinge about the hike and I pretend that I'm enjoying it more than I really am. It makes a change for me not to be the one complaining all the time.

After three hours of walking we get to the bottom of the middle of the W. We arrive at a camp ground where we are able to leave our packs before setting off up the middle. This path takes you up a valley between mountains. The going is steep and we find ourselves climbing over rocks and boulders, up steep mud hills and through thick trees. The trail is supposed to be five hours there and five back. The weather is shit up the valley and visibility isn't great. We have a glacier adorned mountain to our left which is very spectacular but ahead of us all we can see are a few gigantic shadows covered by rain clouds. This climb is tough. Not only do we have ten hours of this to look forward to but when we get back we have another 3 hours to our final resting place. I aint happy. This seems like putting ourselves through physical hell just to prove that you can. We soldier on, constantly climbing up 45 degree hills. Gee this is fun. After an hour and a half we reach a plateau. Its freezing and starts to rain. The end of the valley is another three hours at least, but looking torwards it we can see nothing. I have a face like a smacked arse and am in a right huff. This aint my idea of a nice time. It may be different if we could see whats ahead, but we cant. We have a conference and decide that it just aint worth carrying on up the middle. Thank big Jesus with the beard!! Hooray. (Ad has just told me that as he remembers it the view up the valley was clearing when we got to the plateau...thats not my recollection but then again maybe it was the clouds of dispair, tiredness and boredom that I was seeing.)


We turn around and head back down the valley, which again is not easy. At the base we pick up our packs and head off on the third leg of this marathon day. Two more hours of walking basically seeing the same things up hill down hill and back fucking up again, we arrive at a new lake and the path takes us down to a small beach. The lake is lovely and if only it was not absolutely freezing, being glacier fed, I would have plunged straight in. On the opposite side of the lake gorgeous undulating hills covered in a deep rich coating of velvetine-like vegetation bring a welcome new sight. A further half an hour and we reach our refugio. However when we go to book in, they haven't received our reservation! Bollocks. After a bit of misunderstanding they guy leads us to the only tent they have available. Wow how fantastic. After wanting to strangle the refugio man, I now wnat to kiss him. The tent we have looks like it is usually used by the staff. It has a proper mattress!! And is situated in the most beautiful location, right by a huge gushing river, isolated from the rest of the camp, this is just fantastic. It is like having our own little piece of paradise.