Patagonian Paradise

Up until just a few years ago, it was only an expensive brand of clothing I always noticed on the top floor of R.E.I. and every other outdoor store in which I had ever set foot. I wasn't sure what made Patagonia so famous until 2010, when I decided to take my students to Chile. After almost one year of planning and several rounds of negotiation with a company that could help me make it happen, we were headed south, to the Chilean side of Patagonia.

The bus rides alone were enough to leave my mouth agape. We were surrounded by vast expanses of land dotted with roaming alpaca and snow-capped mountains illuminated by soft morning sunlight, the road leading to them like a zipper.

As we set off on our trek, we came across gorgeous gauchos and their horses and marveled at the New England-like foliage and pristine blue streams as we hiked toward the granite giants in Torres Del Paine National Park. The rich, autumn-like colors and the crisp air did something to me, and I found myself thinking, “I could happily spend a while here”, and at that moment, I told myself I'd be back.

Fast-forward to January of 2013. I was sitting in Punta del Diablo, a dusty fishing village on the east coast of Uruguay, thinking about where my next destination should be. “Do I travel to the north of Argentina at this unbearably hot time and visit the desert-like regions, complete with salt flats?” And then it hit me...this is the perfect time to visit the Argentinian side of Patagonia! It took all of thirty minutes for me to research plane tickets and decide that my adventure would begin in El Calafate, home of Perito Moreno glacier. I had never seen a glacier in my life, and I couldn't think of anything that would thrill me more. A perfect change of pace after several months of summer heat.

As it turned out, even landing in El Calafate was exciting. The mountains in the distance and the strangely bright, green water below made me want to hit the ground running. My mind was already churning with imagines of what else awaited me.

To stare out into the silence of a two-million-year old, still-advancing glacier is to experience a type of beauty comparable to nothing else. To study its thousands of ridges, its sharp tips and sudden dips, its changes in hue from soft white to glowing blue, is to experience proper stupefaction. And just when you think you are beginning to digest the magnitude of this ancient mass, you hear a crackling sound pierce the air - not unlike a gunshot - and turn just in time to witness a giant piece of ice come crashing down into the bright water, rocking its surroundings, water splashing back up onto the glacial walls. And you wait for more.

El Chaltén, a three-hour ride north of El Calafate, is a hiker's paradise. It is a very small village, peppered with restaurants, lodging and a few small markets. There is on ATM in the mountain-surrounded village, zero cell phone reception and possibly one of the poorest internet connections in the whole of Latin America. So if you can post your “On Vacation” sign, forget about the rest of the world for a bit and focus your energy on all that nature has to offer, you'll be in for a real treat. There are campsites by lakes, and trails as short as one hour, and others that take seven just one way. It was Lago de Los Tres that solidified my love for the Argentine side of Patagonia. A constant view of Mount Fitz Roy getting closer and closer was only part of the joy of this trail. When you get to the top and find yourself before a shockingly blue lake surrounded by peaks and glaciers, it is difficult to find anything appropriate to say or do, other than to take a seat and just breathe it all in.

Bariloche was the perfect place to end my time in Patagonia, and the twenty-nine hour bus ride was worth it, although I admit that next time I would go for the plane. My days were spent hiking, swimming and lounging by lakes with picnic lunches and good company. The sunny paths boasting orange, yellow and purple flowers were a spectacular contrast against the blue backdrop of water. Berries are plentiful in Patagonia, and buying some fresh raspberries and boysenberries at a roadside stand to mix with some fresh yogurt was a sweet way to end a perfect, active day.

Patagonia invigorated me despite the exhaustion I felt at the end of most days. With no doubt in my mind, it is the south of Argentina that I prefer. I have been to Buenos Aires and watched dreamily as couples danced tango in La Boca. I've walked through the chic streets of La Recoleta neighborhood and enjoyed lazing away a few hours in its grassy parks, surrounded by Buenos Aires natives, the Porteños, whose accent is as sweet and smooth as thick, melty caramel. But in the south of the country lies the real gem. Sure, it may mean spending more than a budget traveler is accustomed to, or crouching to pee in an unseen patch of stick burrs. But it is well-worth it for the inner peace it brings, and I think it's safe to say that I plan to return, and I encourage you to do the same.