'Those Who Rush Patagonia, Lose Time'

Travel planning & logistics along the Carretera Austral was an ongoing challenge. It was a daily struggle to find reliable information but with every challenge we overcame, we were gifted with the reward of adventure, and a lifetime of memories.

With dismal weather forecast, our next destination was Puerto Rio Tranquilo. Luke walked down to the bus terminal, and Jelley set about Whatsapp-ing every possible option we could find through Google Maps via Google Translate to find somewhere to stay and ride out the impending storm. Luke returned empty handed from the bus terminal, while Jelley had contacted all 20 accommodation options in the tourist town, but we had no luck with last-minute availability. We weren’t keen to camp, and had no way to get down there. We felt deflated at the lack of progress. After a decent meal and a few hours later, we finally received a positive reply from an accommodation and the host also suggested an alternative bus option (which we also ‘confirmed’ via WhatsApp). Success! We would be leaving at 6am.

Again, a bus journey which should have taken only 2 hours ended up taking 5 hours in total because we detoured via a random airport town near the Chilean/Argentinian border, before cutting across a backroad inland again. The main highway soon turned to gravel, as it then remained for the majority of the Carretera Austral. Despite the long journey, the scenery from the bus was breathtaking, and seeing the ominous black clouds as we passed Cerro Castillo reminded us of just how lucky we had been during our hike a few days earlier.

We remained hopeful the storm might pass in 24-48 hours, and even more hopeful that our accommodation would have decent WiFi to make the most productive use of our downtime. The clouds briefly lifted as we approached Lago General Carrera, a rainbow greeting us as we rounded this beautiful turqoise lake. We felt a little seasick just looking at the swell across the enormous lake, although the nauseousness could have been from the bus journey.

The rain was back as we arrived in the small tourist town, and we sought shelter in the place we thought we had booked to stay. After some confusion on both sides, and a review of the ever-important WhatsApp messages (gospel in this part of the world), we were directed to walk back along the highway to ‘Cabanas Paradiso’ (Paradise Cabins) where they may or may not have somewhere for us to stay.

The confusion continued as we were lost in translation, but eventually we were shown to a lakefront apartment with a balcony overlooking Lago General Carrera. The jetty where the tour boats heading out to the famous marble caves departed from was right in front of our new home. It seemed crazy to be watching 5 boats per hour brave the wild waters, ferrying tourists out and bringing them back soaking wet. It didn’t look particularly inviting! Some of these tourists were coming on day-trips from Coyhaique, and given this journey took us 5 hours 1 way, we didn’t envy them!

We had really hoped to visit the Exploradores Glacier while in Puerto Rio Tranquilo, one of the more cost efficient glacier trekking excursions in the region, but after seeing the video of the road washout on the entry road to the national park, we understood why the tour agency said there was no chance to get there during our 3 days in town. Our wish for reliable WiFi hadn’t come true, so limited life admin could be achieved during our stay. Luckily we had downloaded a couple of relevant movies offline - ‘180 Degrees South’ (filmed in the region of Patagonia we were currently in!) and ‘The Secret Life of Walter Mitty’. Both great movies on a rainy day!

After 2 days indoors as the storm took hold, we were experiencing a bit of cabin fever and decided to bite the bullet to head out on the lake. Trusting the tour agency’s promise that the winds and rain would be gentler at sunrise, we booked to kayak out to the marble caves the next morning. The wind howled, and rain poured overnight, and we wondered if we’d made the right decision. We walked into town through darkness and rain, and jumped in the van taking us 20 minutes south. When we arrived at the kayaking departure point it literally looked like we were in a tropical paradise, with the thatch umbrellas in a sheltered cove. The weather had cleared and winds died down, and it was safe to head out on the lake. It was interesting receiving a full safety briefing in another language, of which we understood about 30%, but luckily we knew the basics of kayaking and how to release ourselves if we did happen to flip.

The water was calmer than expected, and a gorgeous crystal clear blue. It reminded us of Lake Pukaki in NZ. It was really special to be so close to the marble caves - you truly have to see it to believe it. At times, we were waiting for the larger tour boats to skirt around us before we’d have the place to ourselves again. While our guides were friendly and helpful, we missed most of the informative commentary on the area as it was in Spanish and hard to hear on the water. It was a super fun morning and we’re really glad we did it! Sure enough, the weather packed in again for the day and we spent the afternoon at ‘home’.

Luke especially loved this cute town of Puerto Rio Tranquilo (ironically the direct translation is ‘port of the calm river‘), and he got Lake Hawea vibes. Maybe Lake Hawea 30 years ago if there were roosters wandering around the streets and dirt roads.

Travelling along the Carretera Austral, we were beginning to realise this truly was like going back in time. It was like travelling before the internet (circa 1980s) where "street smarts" are more valuable than Google. These small towns had limited technology (except Whatsapp lol) and in order to find bus timetables or accommodation, you had no choice but to talk to locals, ask questions, and figure everything out yourself. While frustrating at times, we were enjoying the challenge and it was the best way to have forced improvement of our Spanish. It had been a welcome break to speak English again when we hiked Cerro Castillo with 5 Americans, but as soon as we parted ways, it was back to Spanish or no communication at all. This remote area in Chile is the perfect place to go 100% offgrid (whether planned or not).

We were hoping our next home along the road would have cooking facilities as we’d be splurging a little during this downtime. We never would’ve guessed the best Japanese food on our travels around the world would be in this tiny town of Rio Tranquilo in rural Patagonia! On the recommendation of our kayak guide, we walked past a hole-in-the-wall tiny restaurant which appeared to be closed, but served a divine platter of sushi that we’re still drooling over months later. We also had an excellent burger at a brewery, and a horrendous pizza on the main street (topped with onion and raw carrot). It was good to have a bit of variety, but we were keen to start cooking and almost missed our pasta and rice meals.

Our next destination was Cochrane, the last ‘town’ on the Carretera Austral. We had managed to pre-book this bus ticket, and were surprised to be joined on the side of the road by Lydia and Kris from our Cerro Castillo hike! They’d been standing in the rain for 3 hours competing with other hitchhikers for a ride South, and decided to try the bus instead. After an anxious wait to see if there were available seats without a ticket, they were eventually let on and we caught up on the past few days.

The bus ride to Cochrane was another scenic one, as we continued around Lago General Carrera, then alongside the impressive rapids of the river Rio Baker. Interestingly, Rio Baker had featured in the movie we had just watched, 180 Degrees South, where activists successfully fought against a dam project in the area. We also got a glimpse of the confluence where two bright turquoise rivers join and continue through Patagonia.

On arriving at the Cochrane bus terminal, Jelley immediately joined the queue to buy our next bus tickets for 2 days time, as we had heard this bus was small and operated irregularly. We didn’t want to be stuck here and felt the need to get to Villa O’Higgins as soon as we could.

Cochrane made an immediate first impression. We had gone even further back in time here. Gauchos (cowboys) rode through town on their horses, the town city was a quaint grid of identical houses surrounded by mountains. One small surprise was a ‘Cochrane’ sign on the hilltop above the bus terminal, similar to the Hollywood sign in LA. Unsurprisingly, the Americans we met on the bus didn't manage to find anywhere streaming the SuperBowl final that night. Not a huge NFL following down here.

While in Cochrane, our goals were to visit nearby Patagonia National Park and to finalise plans to reach the end of the Carretera Austral and enter Argentina. One of the inspirations for this entire trip was reading a wild story about a border crossing which only a few thousand people get to do every year. The border crossing goes via a ferry across a glacial lake to exit Chile, then a 20km walk through "no-mans land" to enter Argentina, with no vehicle access and carrying all of your belongings. It was a unique experience that felt like a lifetime away when we first discussed the idea, but we were getting close to the end.

Our accommodation in Cochrane was a small apartment below a hostel, this time with a little kitchenette which we put to good use after visiting the local 'supermercado'. It was pouring with rain again, but luckily we had really good WiFi so we could finally tick off some of the admin items on our ever-growing list (like publishing a blog post!). The door to our apartment was annoyingly next to the door for the main hostel entrance, and the street sign pointed towards our door instead, so we were constantly having the doorbell ringing and telling other travellers to try ‘la otra puerta’ (other door).

It had been nearly a week since our hike in Cerro Castillo and we were itching to get our boots on and take a walk on the wild side. We sent a WhatsApp to a random local driver who drops hikers at Valle Chacabuco (40km northeast of town), and arranged a ride for the next day (which also happened to be Valentine’s Day!). Driving into Chile’s newest national park, appropriately named 'Patagonia National Park', we were able to experience one of the regions newest parks created by The Tompkins Foundation, and it was noticeably different from other parks we had visited in Chile. We were greeted by the iconic guanacos, grazing freely in the park, unphased by vehicles or people (a Guanaco is a funny looking animal native to South America and resembles some combination of a llama, camel and a deer).

The landscapes in Patagonia National Park were unlike any we had seen so far. Vast, open spaces, known as 'steppe' -- absolutely breathtaking. We entered the park to a magnificent park visitors centre, which was surprisingly modern. While at the visitors centre we learned more about this specific National Park which was formed by 2 courageous Americans named Doug and Kristine Tompkins (it's no wonder we were feeling the resemblance to that of US National Parks).

Doug & Kristine Tompkins were founders of 2 of the most successful outdoor apparel companies, The North Face (Doug) and Patagonia (Kris). The couple gave up their lives as entrepreneurs to commit full time to The Tompkins Conservation, which works to protect wildlands in Patagonian Chile and Argentina. Throughout the 1990’s, Doug and Kris notoriously worked together to purchase huge swaths of land in Chile with the ultimate goal of protecting the land from industry and turning it into National Parks. These huge 'land grabs' were met with backlash from the locals who were confused why a couple of gringos were 'stealing' all of their valuable farming land. However, The Tompkins Conservation then opted to donate all the purchased land to the Chilean government to create National Parks, believing that this governmental designation serves as the best mode of guaranteeing long-term conservation. Doug Tompkins unfortunately died in a kayaking incident near Puerto Rio Tranquilo (which is where we also went kayaking last week), but his wife continues to work for the Tompkins Conservation and continue their work in the region. There is a great documentary called Wild Life which tells the interesting story of Kris and Doug Tompkins and the lasting legacy they will leave through over 13 national parks across Chile and Argentina.

We opted to hike the Lagunas Altas (or 'high lakes') trail, which was a lovely 20km loop track in Patagonia National Park. The start of the track offered some warning signs of what to do if we encountered a cheeky puma (otherwise known as mountain lion) on the track as this is apparently quite common. Lucky (or perhaps unlucky?) for us, we didn't come across any pumas on our journey but we did see lots of lakes, and condors! The walk traversed up and over a gorgeous ridge line offering sweeping views of the valley below. While the weather started out overcast, it cleared up in the afternoon as we descended back to the welcome centre. It was a lovely way to spend Valentines Day together!

The next morning, we left Cochrane onboard a tiny minibus, south to Villa O’Higgins, otherwise known as, the ‘fin de la Carretera Austral!’ (the end of the Carretera Austral). This bus service runs just 3 days a week (and yes this is during 'peak' season) and is subsidised by the Chilean government due to the remoteness of the area.

The tiny bus rattled along the bumpy gravel road, as we approached Puerto Yungay, where we boarded another ferry crossing as the highway hits the Chilean fjords, before continuing south again. This road connecting the other side of Puerto Yungay to Villa O’Higgins was only completed in the year 2000, and prior to the road, the only access was by horseback! The journey was a roller coaster. It was an estimated 4 hour journey but about 6.5 hours into it, we had to roll part way back down a hill because the bus engine was overheating and couldn't make it over the final mountain pass (scary!). We slowly made it up the final hillside and eventually came down through the valley and into the town centre of Villa O'Higgins.

We were immediately charmed by Villa O’Higgins, the final frontier. We set up our tent at a cute campground (after ‘splurging’ over the past week during the rain), and shared stories on the road with other backpackers and cycle tourists. We were especially impressed with a French couple and their 6 year old daughter, that was being home-schooled along the way. They had cycled 600km to Coyhaique before their daughter refused to cycle another kilometre, and they picked up a car for 1 parent to drive and the other to cycle alongside before reaching the end of the Carretera Austral. The mother had lived in New Zealand for 2 years on a working holiday visa earlier in life, and had many fond memories of her journey there. Jelley hosted a hair braiding workshop and made a little friend for life in the brave 6 year old girl who was a very long way from home.

We wandered 3 blocks into town to visit the info centre and make a plan for the coming days. The crossing into Argentina was reliant on a ‘ferry’ service across a huge glacial lake, and tickets were hard to come by with irregular sailings. After a few attempts via WhatsApp earlier in the week, we had confirmation for the sailing on Monday. It was Thursday, so we were feeling really confident and happy to be spending a few days exploring the area. WhatsApp communication was like pulling teeth along the Carretera Austral, and this exchange was no different - a typical example of the chat (but in Spanish) :‘Can we reserve 2 tickets for the next crossing to El Candelario’ ‘No, Friday is sold out’ ‘Okay, when is the next available sailing?’ ‘Monday’ ‘Can we please reserve 2 tickets for Monday?’ ‘Yes, you can reserve 1’ ‘We need 2 please’ ‘Not possible’ ‘Can you please add us to a waitlist for 2 tickets for the Monday sailing?’ ‘Yes’, and eventually ‘Yes, we have 2 tickets for Monday for you’. So painful!

We had been informed by a traveller heading the other direction up the Carretera Austral that ‘there’s nothing to do in O’Higgins’, but we soon found out they hadn’t even scratched the surface of this incredible spot in remote Chile. We joined a walking tour around the town of just 600 inhabitants. With the passionate locals speaking very quickly in Spanish, we only caught about 30% of the information, but this was nonetheless a vast improvement since we first arrived in Santiago. O’Higgins was surrounded by glaciers, and sat just slightly above the enormous Southern Patagonian Icefield (the largest in the world, outside of Antarctica).

We were really keen on glacier trekking while in O’Higgins, after missing out on Exploradores earlier in Puerto Rio Tranquilo. The helpful visitor’s centre pointed us in the direction of Falsa Cumbre, a small local expedition company founded by Nicholas and a couple of other guides who joined forces during the pandemic. We stopped by their office ( a local house with a few kayaks out the front) to find out our options. Nicholas was a wealth of knowledge, having built many trails in the region. Originally hailing from Santiago, he has called O’Higgins home for the past 6 years, slowly building up his mountaineering and kayak guiding company, successfully applying for funding from the Chilean government for high quality equipment to upscale to the business he co-owns today. He is also a scholarship leader with the prestigious US NOLS Outdoor Education / Leadership programme, and was preparing to return to Alaska for his next course. We met more Santiago tourism university students on their placements down here and were getting valuable work experience in a unique piece of the world, very far from the comforts of the capital city.

After a mapping session and detailed talk with Nicholas, we decided to schedule an overnight excursion up to El Tigre Glacier, an elusive glacier which few people visit every year. The weather forecast looked excellent, and we were so excited for the adventure ahead. That afternoon, we warmed up our legs with a shorter hike (on one of the trails Nicholas helped to build!) in the El Mosco Glacier Park. We were greeted with unreal scenes as we ascended - this area looked untouched from the sheep farming which had resulted in other parts of Patagonia having native bush burned to allow for grazing. The views stretched across the tiny town, over surrounding lakes, glaciers and mountains, as we climbed to the base of a huge Chilean flag on the hillside. Villa O’Higgins for many years was little more than a military base for the border with Argentina. The locals who lived here year-around were a hardy bunch, with winters serving as a particularly isolating and difficult time.

We were looking forward to making something other than pasta for dinner. In Cochrane, we had found a powdered chickpea burger mix, which just needed a single egg to be added to it before making it into patties. This town of 600 surprisingly had 5 little supermercados, all attached to locals houses and open whenever the owner felt like it. We first set out to buy some more of the freshly made pan (bread), which we had enjoyed from supermercado #1 earlier in the day. Another classic conversation followed in Spanish ‘Do you have any bread?’ ‘No’ ‘But you had bread earlier today’ ‘Yes’ ‘When will you have more bread?’ ‘ Later on’ ‘ What time will you have more bread?’ ‘6:30pm’. We then proceeded to search for our singular egg, which ended up being an egg hunt around the town. After visiting the 4 ‘main’ supermercados with no eggs available, we were directed to the 5th tiny supermercado, where we saw trays of them on the countertop. Alas, the door was locked and they were closed. Luckily a ring on the doorbell and we convinced the owner to take our cash and bought 2 eggs as we felt so bad waking her from her nap.

We spent a lot of time in O’Higgins loitering outside the local gas station COPEC, as it was one of 2 locations in the town with reliable wifi, provided by Elon Musk's Starlink! The other spot was a local brewery with sporadic opening hours, and between these 2 locations, Luke had a couple of interviews with FIFA for the upcoming Women’s World Cup back in New Zealand, and confirmed his contract. We would be cutting our time in Chile slightly shorter than planned, and making a long journey to relocate to Auckland, NZ, in one month’s time. Luckily during one of the interviews, Luke was able to borrow a cyclist’s sweaty ‘collared’ shirt, and the local dog determined for a game of fetch mid-interview as sunset turned to darkness didn’t impact his chances.

The next day, we were off on our expedition with Nicholas and university student Martin, up to El Tigre glacier. We would be hiking up to the base of the glacier that afternoon, setting up camp overnight, then trekking on the glacier first thing in the morning for optimal conditions. Whilst the trail did have a sign on the roadside advising it was a ‘moderate’ track to the base of the glacier, the trail itself was extremely difficult to locate. Jelley absolutely did not enjoy this walk, up the unrelentingly steep, boggy mountainside. There was no way to identify where the trail was at all - so few people came up here, just Falsa Cumbre around 2-3 times per month in the summer, and 1 other local guide would head up here. Some hikers would try the journey self-guided, but would have no way of making it up to the ridge and along to the glacier with no clear trail, and often returned disappointed. We were grateful to have Nicholas’s expertise with us, and although the trail was a huge challenge, we enjoyed the views across the valley and down to the Lake Cisnes below. We could just make out the white swans which dotted the rivers below and gave the river its name (Cisnes is Swan in espanol).

It was a treat to have a meal cooked for us - and it wasn’t pasta (lol). We were taking notes from the pros for future hikes - the tinned mussels with a squeeze of fresh lemon were an excellent starter. As we set up camp, the cloud set in and we couldn’t truly appreciate the spot we were camping in. Martin and Nicholas were bad-ass - they slept on thin mats and sleeping bags outside under the stars, and apparently were only woken up by drizzle a couple of times in the night. We explained to Nicholas that while we do have glaciers in New Zealand also (and that much of the Patagonian scenery reminded us of home), the most common way to trek on top of a glacier is to take a helicopter up which we had never splurged on before. He was a bit of a mountaineering purist and vowed the best part of trekking on a glacier was the grueling climb to get to the base.

It was invaluable having such a knowledgeable local guide with us, not only for our safety, but also to hear a fresh perspective on his life in Chile and learn more. Nicholas introduced us to the phrase ‘those who rush Patagonia, lose time’, and to truly appreciate this vast region, you needed time to explore and soak it all in, and we felt we were living that motto during our 2 months down here.

There were light showers as we woke up at 6am - an early start to get onto the glaciar in optimal conditions early in the day. We were slightly nervous and very ‘emocionado’ (we had been advised not to use the other literal translation for excited, which in Chile can mean horny lol). It was 1 hour further to hike up to and alongside the glacier; along the incredibly smooth marbled rock, some with natural bright orange stripes for which the glacier got its name of ‘The Tiger’.

We were kitted out with helmets, crampons, ice axes, attached by ropes in our harnesses in case anyone fell through a crevasse (apparently only 10% of trips!). The sun came out at the optimal time, and we had calm, ideal conditions to begin exploring El Tigre. Nicholas said it was usually so windy the group couldn’t hear each other, and we were using hand signals to stop/start and communicate just in case.

This was probably the coolest thing we’d ever done in our lives. We don’t have any words to describe the experience, but luckily a lot of photos!

It was an absolutely huge day, we had started hiking at 7am and returned to the car at 5.30pm. Jelley was absolutely ruined by the end of it, but we were filled with so much joy and accomplishment at achieving this mini-expedition. The descent down the mountainside wasn’t quite as challenging as the ascent, but still extremely muddy and slippery. We had 360 degree views and could spot the start of the Southern Patagonian Icefield in the near distance. UFO-shaped clouds were above us, indicating a change in the weather system and a storm coming in the next few days.

Returning to town, we connected to Starlink again and saw we had missed a WhatsApp the night before from the company who operate the boat from O’higgins across to Candelario Mancilla, the first part of our border crossing. While we had booked for Monday, the weather forecast looked like they would have to suspend all services for several days, and they were asking if we would want to cross on Sunday morning if the service was brought forward one day. It was Saturday night, 7:30pm, when we opened the message, and we replied and tried to call to confirm our spot with no luck. Desperate to get on the boat, but without any reply, we packed up our tent and gear at 5am in the dark, and rushed to the departure spot. Luke even sprinted across town to deliver our payment to Falsa Cumbre with almost all of our remaining Chilean Pesos (as the card payment machine hadn’t worked the day before).

We were the only people at the meeting point. A guy came out and explained to us they had messaged all 16pax booked for the Monday boat, and no one had replied to confirm so it wouldn’t be operating today. It was so disappointing, especially since it was excellent conditions with no wind and a sunny day. The earliest the boat would have a chance of operating would be Wednesday. Darn.

We returned to the petrol station for wifi to consider our options, and treated ourselves to a cabana for a few nights to wait out the weather, and rest our legs before the upcoming journey. Unfortunately, as the days dragged on, we had almost run out of cash as we weren’t planning on staying so long. It was one of those towns where they only accepted payments in cash, but there weren’t any ATMs for 400km in any direction.

Every day we checked in with the boat company, and every day we were greeted with the news that they didn’t have permission to operate due to the dangerous weather forecast. We were feeling absolutely deflated. The tiny town slowly started to fill with hikers and cyclists coming from the north, to find out about the delays and growing waitlist for the boat departure. Although we’d buffered 1 week to stay in Villa O’Higgins, that was about our maximum to be able to make it across to Argentina and down to cross back into Chile to start our Torres Del Paine hike we booked 4 months prior that couldn’t be shifted. We were starting to worry, and investigated other options - there were no choices but to wait ! The buses north to cross at a vehicle border crossing 400km away in Chile Chico were sold out for 2 weeks, and we would then still have 900km to head south again to get to Puerto Natales. Some travellers in a similar situation were considering chartering a helicopter to get out!

Desperate to shake off the cabin fever and our frustrations, we stretched our legs on a few other short hikes around the town. It was nice to be out in nature, and the forecast rain hadn’t arrived, just the relentless Patagonian winds.

On Wednesday, we reluctantly checked out of our cabin as we had just 15USD equivalent in CLP, and tried out a different campground (next to the petrol station with internet haha). Our initial ‘cute’ campground was now over-crowded and it was nice to be away from the negativity from other travellers about being trapped in paradise.

As we unenthusiastically prepared our pasta for dinner, we received the good news - the maritime authorities had approved our boat's crossing for the morning - we had to meet at 4.45am! Jelley rushed down to get our golden ticket and we finally had hope again. Cautiously optimistic, we set multiple alarms to wake again in the night, pack up the tent and hope for the best to start the voyage to Argentina!

Until then,

- A Kiwi and A Cali

P.S. - We know, it’s been 4 months since this stage of our journey back in February! We’ve been adjusting to living in Auckland, and had a bit of 'writers block' in putting the pen to the paper on this one. Luke is 3 months into his job he interviewed for at the petrol station in Villa O’Higgins, and Jelley is also joining the World Cup action. We hadn’t intended to end our travels when we did, and plan on continuing the adventure after this pause to work, top up the bank account and reconnect with family & friends. We’re brainstorming options for September onward, and plan to complete our Patagonian blogs before we leave the country again. If anyone has travel and hiking tips for Nepal, drop us a note! P.P.S - Don’t forget to write your name if you leave a comment! (Although it is fun trying to guess sometimes).