After two nights in Santiago, I kicked my trip into high gear with a four day visit to Patagonia. As much as I enjoyed Santiago, I considered Patagonia to be my first “real” destination. I hadn’t intentionally planned for Patagonia to be the first major stop; it was high on my initial list since I had heard great things from friends who had visited and the pictures looked stunning. Then I realized that early March would be the best time for me to visit since it was late summer in South America and considered shoulder season in Patagonia (the high season is December-February). This meant the weather should still be good (although that is never a guarantee in Patagonia) and fewer crowds. Boom. Stop #1: Patagonia.

I researched options for flights and accommodations and decided that my best bet would be to focus on Chilean Patagonia. Although I really wanted to hit Argentinian Patagonia as well, it just wasn’t going to be possible with my constraints. I had to work until March 1st, I wanted to go to Mendoza and Easter Island as well, and I wanted to be in Japan in time for cherry blossom season at the end of March. Tough choices, I know. 

Since I’d be traveling solo, I decided to splurge on the upscale, all-inclusive Tierra Patagonia hotel. Tierra (along with its competitor, Explora) runs a number of eco-adventure lodges in Chile that combine luxury accommodations with guided small-group excursions. Everything is taken care of for you (transfers, meals, activities) and there is forced social interaction through the excursions, which I hoped would prevent loneliness. I did consider Explora as well, but ultimately settled on Tierra since the reviews seemed to be slightly better. I was going into the stay with eyes wide open. Given the price point, I figured that the demographics of the guests would significantly over-index on retirees and well-to-do adults at least 15-20 years my senior, with some newlyweds thrown in. I doubted I would find other solo travelers, but I was hopeful that people would be friendly and inclusive once they realized I was on my own.

Day One: 2am Wake-Up Call, Three Hour Flight, Four Hour Drive

I had the choice of flying into two airports: Puerto Natales or Punta Arenas. Puerto Natales is much closer to Torres del Paine National Park, but only operates a couple flights in and out of Santiago each week (and only seasonally). Punta Arenas is about a four hour drive to the park, but has several flights daily. Puerto Natales did not offer a flight that fit into my schedule, so Punta Arenas it was. At least I was able to get a return flight out of Puerto Natales (or so I thought… stay tuned for more on that). Then, Tierra suggested getting the first flight into Punta Arenas in the early morning to avoid any issues with delays. That meant a 4:31am flight out of Santiago, which translated to a 2am wake-up call (after a day of wine tasting).

I thought I had diligently set my alarm the night before, but must have inadvertently turned it off because I woke up on my own in the middle of the night. Panicked, I looked at the clock to see that it was already 2:13am. How did that happen?! Well, I still had 17 minutes until my driver was arriving to drive me to the airport, so just enough time to brush my teeth, body shower and get dressed. I lugged my checked luggage downstairs at 2:30 on the dot and handed it to the bellhop. My domestic flights on LATAM didn’t include checked bags and I didn’t want to deal with the hassle and risk of checking a bag for a four day trip, so my solution was to use the Renaissance Santiago as a home base for my large luggage. That way I could take each trip to Patagonia, Mendoza and Easter Island with just the things I needed in my carry-on. Of course, I was going to tip the bellhop to ensure my bag was looked after well when not in my possession, so in my bleary-eyed, sleep-deprived state, I handed him 3k Chilean pesos (almost $5). It was only when I was in the car and en route to the airport that I realized I had handed him blue notes (10k pesos) and not green ones (1k pesos). OOPS. I just tipped the bellhop $45. No wonder he thanked me so profusely.

It was hard to find a seat at the gate for my flight because so many people were strewn across multiple seats, using their backpacks as pillows and attempting to get some sleep. I could wait to get on the plane. My first LATAM flight was uneventful; I essentially shifted around, falling in and out of sleep for three hours. For those of you who are wondering, there was no first class on the plane, and I was in economy with everyone else. I had been feeling anxious since before leaving New York, uneasy about taking such a long trip solo, worried that I’d get lonely, afraid that something would go wrong, etc. I was out of my routine and my comfort zone, and just wasn’t, well, comfortable with that yet. I still hadn’t managed to shake the feeling of anxiety, but I hoped it was only a matter of time before I’d acclimate to life on the road and would start to settle into the blissful, relaxed state that I always fell into on a long trip.

I was also a little nervous upon arrival at 8am because I hadn’t confirmed my transfer since providing Tierra with my flight details a month earlier. However, I walked into the arrivals lounge and found a smiling woman wearing a Patagonia fleece and holding a large sign with my name on it. She introduced herself as Claudia, then introduced me to the driver, Nando (also wearing a Patagonia fleece) and handed me a branded cloth bag with a sandwich, snacks and water for the ride. Nando took my bags and they walked me to the backseat of a spacious black SUV. Ahhhh. I was liking this place already.

Even though I was exhausted, I was also amped up on adrenaline now that I was finally in Patagonia. I couldn’t stop staring out the window at the gorgeous landscapes that we were passing. It struck me as similar to Iceland: desolate land set against large, open skies, ever-changing weather and cloud formations, farms filled with horses, sheep and cows and an abundance of natural beauty.

I managed to get a bit of sleep in the middle of the ride, but woke up again as we neared the hotel. Finally, we reached the point where the famous Paine Massif came into view. As we pulled into the drive, the craggy, snow-capped peaks were juxtaposed against the clear blue sky above and the darker, clear blue Sarmiento Lake below. The view literally took my breath away. I felt fortunate to have arrived when it was clear and sunny, since I knew the weather in Patagonia was extremely temperamental. The lodge itself was a long, understated wood building just two floors tall that was designed to blend into its surroundings. The overall Tierra brand embraces sustainability by doing everything from providing reusable water bottles and filtered water to guests to bring on hikes to minimizing energy usage in the operation of the hotel.

As we parked at the entrance to the lodge, a tall white man walked toward us, introducing himself as Nicholas, the General Manager of the property. He welcomed me, said my bags would be placed in my room, and brought me on a tour of the place, explaining how all the meals and excursions worked. The open lounge, bar and dining room all faced the lake and the Paine Massif, which was impressively on display through expansive windows. In fact, every single room on the property had the same view. There was literally not one bad room in the place.

After the tour of the property, I went to my room to settle in and unpack. Then I stared out the window in awe for a few minutes. Next, I went to visit the Excursions team to chat with Kineret about my excursion itinerary. Tierra Patagonia offered hiking, horseback riding, and mountain biking, but I was primarily interested in hiking, so I let her know. She looked at me bemusedly when I explained my disdain for horseback riding (it’s just not comfortable), but cheerfully helped me to navigate the long list of hikes available. I already knew that I wanted to do two of the longest, most difficult trails in the park: the French Valley and the Base of the Towers, Both would require an entire day, so I had one more day to plan. And, that early morning flight paid off. Since I arrived onsite at noon, there was still plenty of time for me to do a half-day excursion in the afternoon. We decided on Hunter’s Trail (essentially, a wildlife walk) for the afternoon and D’Agostini for my second full day, saving the Base of the Towers for my last full day, when the weather was supposed to be the clearest.

I ate a snack and read for a bit until it was time to meet for the hike at 3:30pm. I tentatively walked into the lobby full of people all geared up in their windbreakers, hiking shoes and backpacks. I considered myself to be an active person and I did enjoy hiking, but this was not my scene. Of course I was prepared with all the right gear, so I looked like everyone else, but I still felt like an impostor. Living in New York City for the past four and half years had made me much more comfortable in the urban jungle, traipsing through crowded streets and skyscrapers outfitted in Valentino sandals and Céline bags. Kineret probably sensed my unease and quickly came over to introduce me to the guide for our walk, Javier (outfitted in a Patagonia fleece, of course). Then she introduced me to an older British couple (retirees: check), Sue and Graham, who would be on the same excursion. It turned out that we were the only three people doing Hunter’s Trail, while everyone else was off to somewhere else.

We loaded into a van with all our gear and started on the short drive to the park, Javier pointing out landmarks and wildlife along the way. I chatted a bit with Sue and Graham and learned that they had arrived the previous day, and that this was only their second excursion, the first in the park. As we pulled into the park entrance, Javier asked us for our tickets for entry. We all looked at him blankly. “Ahhh – gotcha!” he started laughing at his own joke. “Gets people all the time,” he said as he pulled our tickets out of his pocket. I’d soon learn that all the guides were similar in their jovial, joking manner, but all very friendly, thoughtful and professional as well.

We were dropped off at the foot of the trail and started walking down the easy path. We didn’t get far before we came to a herd of guanacos (members of the llama family indigenous to Patagonia) blocking the path. 

They didn’t seem concerned about us humans at all and didn’t start moving until we got very close. Tierra practices a “no tracking” policy, which means that we wouldn’t follow any animals or go off a trail or road to try to find them. However, if we came across them while hiking or driving, we could observe them as long as we didn’t interrupt their natural habitat.

Javier started going into detail about the life of guanacos. They are polygamous (meaning, one male with many females) and an Alpha male essentially presides over a harem of females. This Alpha male is in charge of watching over the group, and we started to see lone male guanacos standing atop hills at attention, scanning the land for potential predators (pumas). We saw a male signal an alarm at one point, urging all the females to jump to the other side of a fence. It was heartbreaking to watch a sole young guanaco abandoned on the wrong side, too small to clear the fence. It kept pacing back and forth, contemplating whether it was worth the risk to attempt the jump or to just wait it out and hope everything would be okay. We also saw the remains of a couple guanacos that hadn’t been okay and were ultimately killed by a puma. The bones and fur were still visible, although the meat had all been taken from the puma or from scavengers like condors (don’t worry, I didn’t take any pictures of these gruesome scenes).

Javier taught us a lot more about guanacos, but I’m not writing a scientific post, so I’ll stop there. The final leg of the 4.5 mile trek was a short walk up to a rock face where we could see paintings from indigenous people. We conjectured on what the paintings were meant to communicate and Javier gave us a brief lesson about the Aonikenk people that are sadly no longer around. I do like to read about anthropology and science, but all of this was so much more fun to learn about in the classroom of the planet. I felt like I was on a field trip for grown-ups.

We reached the end of the trail where our van and driver Francisco were waiting for us and I discovered one reason the grown-up version of the field trip was way better than the fourth grade variety. Francisco had set up a spread of cheese and charcuterie, local vegetable chips, coffee, tea, and local Austral beers. We got to have happy hour after our hike/lesson? Ooh yes, I was definitely in the right place. I chose a Calafate-flavored beer (El Calafate is a city in Argentinian Patagonia, but Calafates are also a type of local berry) and chatted cheerfully with Javier, Sue and Graham about our plans for the remainder of our stays at Tierra, and our future travels in South America. Sue and Graham seemed a little baffled when I explained I had just quit my job and was taking off the rest of the year to travel, and I quickly learned that I had to give more context around how and why I was able to do what I was doing.

Back at the lodge, I showered and headed to the bar to enjoy a drink before dinner. I was hoping that people would be social at the bar, but it turned out that people pretty much stuck to their significant others or groups, or chatted with people they had met earlier on excursions. Sue and Graham were nowhere in sight, so I downed my Negroni and read my book, then sat down to a solo dinner watching the beautiful sunset (that I now wish I had taken a picture of!) I was tired from my early morning and had to be ready to go at 7:30am the next day, so it was straight to bed after dinner.

Day Two: French Valley

The French Valley hike is the middle portion of the famed “W” Circuit in Torres del Paine. For those not doing the complete “W” and just doing the day hike, it is about fourteen miles long. Friends had recommended the hike and Javier had said it was his favorite, so I was looking forward to it. This would also be an opportunity to see some of the main features of the Paine Massif up close.

I headed to breakfast at 6:45am that morning, not realizing how efficient the service would be. I set my stuff down at what I thought was an empty table, until to be told, “Excuse me, I was sitting here.” Oops. After finishing my yogurt parfait and omelet, I still had time to kill before our meeting time of 7:30am, so I gazed out the window of my room and watched the colors in the sky change as the sun rose in the east. Even though the lodge was facing west, it was easily one of the most incredible sunrises I’ve seen in my life.

I headed to reception to meet the rest of my excursion members and our guides with a bit more confidence in my step after my first afternoon. “Someone still hasn’t taken their sandwich,” I heard a woman say shortly after I arrived. Not knowing the system yet, I hadn’t realized that they laid out the pre-ordered lunches for everyone to put in their day pack for full-day hikes. “Oh, that’s probably mine,” I responded, grabbing the last remaining bag and stuffing it into my backpack. “Hi, I’m Barb,” the woman whose breakfast table I had accidentally almost stolen turned to face me, her hand extended. Oh man, I hope I don’t cross her in any other ways today, I thought to myself. I shook her hand and met her husband Mort as well. Then I met the other couple that would be joining us: Arianna and Wynn. They were the youngest people that I had seen at the property so far, actually younger than I was. Honeymooners? I wondered to myself. We would have two guides for the day: Pao, a tall, lanky Spaniard wearing a Patagonia T-shirt, and Gabriel, a shorter Chilean in the signature Patagonia fleece. (I honestly have to idea how to spell Pao’s name; it sounded like “Pow” but I’m pretty sure that’s not the correct spelling).

To get to the trailhead, we had to drive to a catamaran (open to the public, not operated by Tierra) that would then take us across Pehoé Lake where we would start our trek. I sat in the back of the van behind Barb and Mort and quickly recovered from my earlier faux pas. Barb was friendly and outgoing, asking lots of questions and offering her thoughts. Mort was quieter, but would throw out witty one-liners every now and then. They were from Toronto and had a 27 year old son living in New York just a few blocks southwest of me. They were fascinated with my story of quitting my job to travel, and Barb shared that she was preparing to retire in June and was facing her own anxiety about what was next.

We arrived at the catamaran launch with plenty of time before the 9am departure, so we got in line and enjoyed the ritual of drinking maté with Pao and Gabriel. I had heard of maté before but didn’t realize that South Americans were so serious about it.

I hadn’t talked with Arianna and Wynn much at all yet since they had been seated at the front of the van and I had been in the back. We started chatting more once onboard the catamaran. They had overheard me saying that I lived in New York, and it turned out that they lived just a few blocks northeast of me. Small world, huh? They were at the tail end of their honeymoon (honeymooners – check!), and were clearly loving Patagonia. The day before they had done the Base of the Towers hike with Pao and had bonded with him so much that they requested him as their guide for the following day.

Apparently, Barb had heard that Arianna and Wynn were fast hikers. She and Mort were worried about slowing us down, so the plan was for Pao to stay with the honeymooners and for Gabriel to stay with the older folks. I wasn’t sure what that would mean for me…

As we arrived at the lodge on the other side of the lake, Pao gestured to Arianna, Wynn, and I, “Let’s go.” I was officially not part of the old people crew.

I quickly saw how Arianna and Wynn had gotten their reputation – they were fast! I considered myself to be in pretty good shape, as I work out about five days a week, but I hadn’t hiked in a while and the trail was very uneven, with lots of rocks and stones one could easily trip or twist an ankle on (in fact, I did trip at one point when I was trying to scramble up a big rock to pass someone else. Fortunately, I caught myself immediately.)

Despite the tricky trail, the scenery was beautiful. The day started out cool, cloudy and windy, and gradually cleared to sunny skies with fluffy clouds (and more wind, of course).The beginning part of the trail was open and exposed to the elements and then turned into forested land. The trees in the first part of the forest were completely burnt from a fire that ravaged the park in 2011. Pao pointed out the difference in the trees when we reached the border of the area that hadn’t been touched by the fire. Arianna and Wynn chatted away with Pao on the way up while I mostly listened and focused on where I was placing my feet. He pointed out different plants and explained the history of the French Valley. Apparently a Frenchman had initially owned the land, so everything in the area was thusly named “French.”

Eventually we reached a stream where we were able to refill our water bottles (it was safe to drink straight from the glacial stream). We stopped to sit on the rocks and snack on homemade granola bars. The sun was coming out and the warmth felt good on my face. The stream was right by the Italienne campsite (named for Italian rock climbers who had first stayed there), where we were able to use the (pretty disgusting) outhouses. Arianna and I agreed that we were very glad to not be camping. Pao explained that we had reached the last 2 km and it would be very steep from here on out, but then we’d be at the top. Okay, I was ready.

Well, he was not kidding about it being steep. We scrambled up rocks, we jumped from rock to rock to cross streams, we pulled ourselves up on tree branches, and we literally walked up a stream. I was working up a sweat and was definitely in the caboose position of our hiking train, but was able to keep up pretty well.

We finally got to the top and oh, was it worth the effort.

After taking pictures from all angles, we sat for lunch and admired the views. It was windy, but glorious.

Then, it was time to head back down. I was actually more nervous about going down with all the treacherous rocks and slippery surfaces, but found that I had gained confidence over the past couple hours. I was still very careful about where I was stepping, but felt comfortable being more nimble. 

Arianna and Wynn hung back a bit for part of the descent, so I talked with Pao some more. I found it fascinating to learn about the guides; where they were from, how they got to Patagonia and how they got into guiding. Pao probably had the most interesting story that I heard; originally from Cordoba, Spain, he had also lived in Italy and Morocco growing up (and I think some other places I am forgetting). His parents sent him to summer programs in the UK to learn English and as such, he speaks Spanish, English, French and Italian. His multilingualism is of course a huge asset as a guide in a destination that attracts people from all over the world. After university, he was traveling in South America and a friend he met suggested that he go to Patagonia. He arrived, fell in love with the place, and paid his dues before finally getting his break as a guide.

I told Pao that I had quit my job to travel and he was pumped for me. He also appreciated that I was traveling solo and commented that he enjoyed traveling on his own since he met so many more people that way. Word, brother.

Pao had an obvious love for nature, for the park and for people, which stood out to me with every guide at Tierra. Several times I noticed that he was watching out for hikers outside of our group, and calling people out who were breaking rules that could have an impact on others’ safety or on the health of the park. I’m not sure if Tierra specifically recruits these kinds of people, or if they ingrain the culture into them during training, but it was heartwarming to see the passion that all the guides had. And it was contagious. The park was pristine and I found myself wanting to do everything in my power to protect it.

Anyway, we made it down to the lodge with plenty of time to catch the 5pm catamaran (the other option was to take the 6:30pm, but all five of us had made a pact that we wanted to get on the 5pm). We found Barb and Mort already settled with Gabriel in the dining area for campers, with the Tierra happy hour spread laid out on a table (Pao offered our leftovers to the campers, who devoured them ravenously. Again, Arianna and I commented that we were so happy we weren’t camping). Unfortunately, Barb had tripped and landed hard on her knee, and I could tell she was really bummed about it as she, Mort and their two friends still had more travel in South America ahead of them. This exact scenario had been running through my head as I was dodging rocks all day, so I really felt for her.

The return catamaran ride view was even better now that the sun was out, and it was much warmer, so Arianna, Wynn and I sat up top in the open air together. I found them to be so cute and happy together; they really seemed to be each other’s best friend. Arianna in particular expressed her sadness about having to leave Patagonia and return to the real world. I knew that feeling all too well and have to say I was happy to not have to leave for a couple days and also not have to return to the real world for many months. But, my time would eventually come, so I had to empathize.

Upon arrival back at the hotel, I took full advantage of the amazing bathtub in my room and let myself relax for a bit. My meeting time for the next day’s hike wasn’t until 10:30am, so I wasn’t in any rush to get to dinner.

A few minutes before I was finally about to head to the dining room, the phone in my room started to ring. Weird. I wasn’t sure why the hotel would be calling me. “Hello?” I answered with a tone of confusion. “Andrea, it’s Mort. We’re about to sit down to dinner and were wondering if you had dinner plans. If not, we’d love to invite you to join us.” Awwww, so thoughtful! They were eating with the two friends that they were traveling with, so I wasn’t going to be imposing on some romantic dinner on their final night.

I searched for them in the dining room and saw Mort waving to me. I almost didn’t recognize them without all of their hiking gear on. An extra chair was placed at the head of the table for me and I met Nancy and Brian, their good friends from Toronto. Barb announced that I had taken the rest of the year off from work to travel, so I spent what seemed like half of dinner listing my entire itinerary for the year. “Are we going to hate you at the end of this list?” Brian asked me when I first started. Eek, I hoped not, but maybe. They were all very interested and excited to hear about my plans, and they provided me with some recommendations on places that they had already visited. I already knew that we had somewhat similar tastes since we all ended up at Tierra Patagonia together, so I was curious to hear what they had to say. At the end of dinner, I hugged Barb and Nancy and wished them well on the rest of their travels (especially Barb with her poor knee). And just like that, day #2 was a wrap.

Day #3: D’Agostini Trail

As I mentioned, I got to sleep in the next day, which was wonderful. I had a (relatively) late breakfast and headed to meet my crew with a newfound swagger. “Andrea! You’re with us again today!” It was my old friends Sue and Graham, and once again we were a threesome. Brilliant, to borrow a term from those Brits. We had a new guide: Pipe (short for Felipe), who was of course outfitted in a Patagonia hat and jacket.

We all jumped in the van and headed southwest, in the opposite direction of every other hike I had done. We were starting at an estancia, which is basically a South American farm for raising cattle. Our driver somehow spotted a grey fox on the way, which was cool, but honestly not that exciting to see since the animal was actually much smaller than I expected it to be, and it also camouflaged very well in the grasses. Sue, Graham and I then compared notes about the excursions we had done the previous day. They did the boat ride to the Grey Glacier, and I was curious to hear about their experience. This excursion was less active, with a lot of time in the van and a boat ride, plus lunch at a restaurant off-property. When planning my itinerary with Kineret, I was tempted to see the Grey Glacier, but I really wanted to do as many active excursions as possible. From Sue and Graham’s description, the day sounded fun (lots of pisco sours and wine), but I was glad that I decided to do the French Valley hike instead.

The D’Agostini trail is nine miles long, but mostly flat until the end, where there is a very steep decline. It fluctuates between open, exposed spaces that are of course windy, and sheltered, forested spaces. Sue, Graham and I had all heard stories from other guests that had hiked the D’Agostini trail the previous day (the wind literally blew away a man’s hearing aid and another man lost his very expensive prescription sunglasses). I wasn’t too concerned about losing a hearing aid, but I certainly didn’t want to lose my sunglasses. Sue was particularly worried about the steep decline, but Pipe assured her she could handle it and he’d be with her every step along the way.

We hiked at a pretty leisurely pace, stopping often to look at different birds and plants (highlight was seeing a woodpecker). There were plenty of lookout spots for photo opportunities as well. I particularly appreciated seeing the view of the French Valley, where I had hiked the day before. It was very cool to see the same place I had been from a distance.

I chatted with Pipe quite a bit; he was pumped that I had quit my job to travel and gave me plenty of recommendations for future trips to Peru and Bolivia. I blew his mind explaining the technology of my previous company and we realized we both didn’t eat meat (very rare in Patagonia!). Pipe told me that he had never been to the US, but was planning a trip in the summer of 2020 (winter in Patagonia, which is the off-season). He wanted to get an RV and drive around the entire country, seeing all the national parks and stopping at the major cities as well. New York City was high on his list; I told him to park the RV outside of the city and that I’d be happy to reverse our roles and play tour guide for him when he visited. Pipe asked me when I was leaving Patagonia; he was about to turn 29 and he had a big birthday bash planned in two days. Unfortunately, I was going to miss the party by a matter of hours as I had a flight back to Santiago earlier in the day, and a full agenda planned in Mendoza the following day. Sometimes it really sucks to be such a planner.

We reached the peak of the trail and the views were just as incredible as Pipe had promised. He played photographer for all of us and I burst out laughing as Sue and Graham filmed a video for their four adult children, saying hello from the beautiful Torres del Paine National Park where they were having the time of their lives spending their kids’ inheritance (their words, not mine).

The descent was steep, but manageable (Sue did great), and we got to the end of the trail where our driver was waiting for us with our well-deserved happy hour spread. On the beautiful return drive, Pipe insisted that we stop at the side of the road so he could pick a bunch of Patagonian mint. He then walked with us straight to the bar, handing the mint to Rodolfo (bartender) and requesting that Rodolfo make us Patagonia mojitos that evening. Sue asked me what I had planned for dinner and invited me to join her and Graham (“We’ve been married for forty years, so you’re not imposing at all!” she told me). It was so nice that all of these couples were taking me under their wings.

I had a delightful dinner with Sue and Graham; we talked about travel (of course), books, and our families. It was really not all that different from conversations I usually have with my friends, despite the fact that we were in different life stages. Was I 37 going on 65? They were headed to Easter Island via Santiago the next day and both kissed me on the cheek before heading to their room to pack.

Day 4: Base of the Towers

This day (Sunday) was my last day and also my biggest hike. The Base of the Towers hike is the most famous in Torres del Paine, and also the most challenging. It was touted as “not being technically difficult, but requiring stamina.” At 16 miles, it was going to my my longest day and the most elevation that I’d cover.

I woke up at 6am, ready to make the most of my final hike in the park. Light slowly stared to fill the sky and I could tell it was going to be the best weather I’d experienced in Patagonia. Not a cloud in sight and minimal wind. It was the perfect day for the Base of the Towers hike, since the towers are often hidden by cloud cover.

My crew was the largest yet – six total people, none of whom I’d met so far. There were two couples: a set of doctors finishing their residencies in Boston (Courtney and Will) and a married couple from Chile that spoke minimal English. There was also a guy (Mike) from Chicago that worked for National Geographic Expeditions and was accompanying some travelers on their entire tour of Chile and Argentina. It was also a relatively young group; the Americans were all in their early 30s and I’m guessing the Chileans were in their early 40s. Once again we had two guides: Pipe, whom I was more than happy to spend another day with; and Marko, who was the perfect complement to Pipe’s energy. I felt like I was watching a comedic duo as they verbally sparred and joked around.

The car ride to the base of the trail couldn’t have been better; Marko and Pipe heard the guanacos screeching from the road, which was the alarm that a predator was near. We immediately pulled over and started scanning the hill until we spotted three pumas prowling the ridge. Finally, the elusive puma sighting! Unfortunately, no chase ensued, but it was neat to be able to observe the guanaco/puma relationship on my last day.

Next, we stopped at a lookout point at an entrance to the park to take some photos as the sunrise light filled the sky.

And then, time to start the grueling incline. Courtney, Will and Mike had all arrived the previous day and were pretty anxious about kicking things off with the most challenging hike. I felt like an old pro at this point. We agreed that we’d all stay together for the first hour, with Marko leading the charge and Pipe bringing up the rear. Then, we’d break up if some of us felt like going faster.

The first hour was pretty boring, to be honest. We took the consistent incline slow and steady and there really wasn’t too much to look at. The next stage was the Windy Pass, an exposed trail along the side of a hill that was not at all windy on this abnormal (but wonderful) day. Marko and Pipe told us that they expected the trail to get very busy later given that it was a Sunday and the conditions were perfect, but we fortunately had a 1.5 hour head start on all the tour groups coming in from Puerto Natales.

After crossing the Windy Pass, we descended into a valley until we reached a bridge to an area with picnic benches and bathrooms. Pipe had explained that the beginning section of the hike was actually technically private land, and we’d soon be entering the park again. We took a break for some homemade granola bars and bananas at the campsite. Marko asked me if I hiked a lot. “Um, not recently,” I had to admit, following up with, “But I’m pretty active.” He nodded his head. “I can tell.” Woohoo! Approval from the guide.

Next, we headed into the forest (Marko’s favorite part of the hike, which I’d agree with now that I’ve done the entire trail). This portion of the trail consists of five uphill segments, with flat breaks in between. At this point, a few of us started to pull away from the rest of the group, which I was happy to do.

We eventually reached the Chileno campsite, where we all met as a group. Marko and Pipe explained that we had reached the last kilometer of the trail, which would take us an hour to complete. One hour to do one kilometer? I wondered. That seemed extremely slow, but Marko assured me it was very steep.

And yes, it was steep, but I didn’t think it was too different than the final portion of the French Valley trail, so I was mentally prepared. We were going at a slower pace than we had two days before; I’m not saying it was a piece of cake, but I was feeling pretty good. The four of us in the front (Pipe, the Chilean couple and I) made it to the top in well under an hour and were rewarded with the most perfect view of the Towers against the clear azure blue sky. We gazed at the Towers in amazement for a minute and then embarked on a mad photo shoot.

We enjoyed lunch overlooking the magnificent view and capped the meal off with Pipe’s personal hot ginger/lemon/honey concoction (I’ll definitely be borrowing that recipe). Then it was time to start the long trek down. For the first kilometer, Pipe kept shouting back,”Slippery, slippery!” every fifteen seconds. So, we didn’t move very quickly, but thankfully nobody slipped.

At one point, Pipe and I sat on a log together, waiting for the rest of the group to catch up. “I am so happy for you, Andrea,” he said (I loved the way all the Chilenos said my name and am excited to hear the pronunciation in all sorts of accents in the upcoming year). “You couldn’t have asked for a better day. You are so lucky. This is the perfect way to start your trip.” Awwwww. I had begun to fall in love with Patagonia: the pristine and natural beauty, the friendly and genuine people, and the simple yet extremely satisfying lifestyle all spoke to me. A couple days before, Arianna had been half joking about making a career pivot from NYC attorney to Patagonia guide, and I could certainly see the allure. I knew I needed to find a new job in 2020, and now I had the first option on my list (I’m also only half joking).

Pipe hung back with the stragglers for the latter half of the descent and I got to know Marko a bit better. We kept passing other guides that he knew and they’d high five, then chat in Spanish. “What a day!” “Wish I could be here for longer!” they exclaimed. Okay, if the guides were all so enthusiastic, I felt very lucky. I expressed my sadness to be leaving the next day. “Oh, I can see it in your face,” Marko said. “I’ve seen people cry when they leave here.”

Marko then told me that he had worked with horses when he first started guiding, and would frequently take people on horses for the beginning portion of the Base of the Towers trail. The Windy Pass section in particular is pretty narrow (and usually windy, duh), and I expressed doubt in riding a horse along that route. “I’d rather trust my own two feet,” I said. “Yes, sometimes the horses would slip,” Marko told me. “What?! Did anybody ever get hurt? I asked, my eyes wide. “No, not really. If anything happened, we were more concerned about the horses than the people.” Um, wait, what?! “Maybe I was too honest,” he admitted next. Well, you just solidified my disinterest in horseback riding, Marko.

The final, boring descent was probably my least favorite part of the trail. Fortunately, I don’t have any joint issues, but I could see how the steady downward angle could wreak havoc on your knees over time. I was glad to first be visiting Torres del Paine at an age when I was able to fully enjoy the incredible hiking that the park offers. I can sit on a boat to see the glacier and drink pisco sours later in life (because I will be back! Hopefully sooner rather than later).

We all met back at the van to do some stretches and enjoy our celebratory Austral beers (I’m really going to miss those). Then it was time to head back to Tierra. True to form, Pipe had spotted some fresh mint on the trail and insisted on bringing it back to the hotel bar so we could all enjoy a final Patagonian Mojito together. “It is your last day, Andrea!” he said. “We need to have a going away party for you!” Hey, no arguments from me.

Or was it my last day? As I sipped my mojito, one of the Tierra staff members informed me that they had checked my flight information and found that my flight out of Puerto Natales was scheduled for the 12th of March, not the 11th. WTF?! I had definitely booked for the 11th. After a quick email scan, I realized that LATAM had sent me a notification that my flight time had changed. What I had neglected to notice was that they had changed the flight by an entire day, not just a couple hours.

“We have availability if you want to stay an extra day,” the woman from Tierra told me. “Andrea! It’s my birthday party tomorrow night!” Pipe reminded me. My mind raced as I looked at adorable Pipe and Marko and the breathtaking view out the window. Did I dare to extend my stay? An additional day of hiking and a party with cute, fit, hilarious Patagonia guides did not seem like the worst thing in the world. But, my sense of reason got the best of me. I had a full agenda of activities in Mendoza waiting for me, and I figured it would be better to quit Patagonia while I was ahead.

So, I called LATAM to get a refund on my Puerto Natales flight and purchased a new flight out of Punta Arenas with more than a minor feeling of annoyance. While I had to fork over $250 additional for the fare difference, the worst part was the 2.5 hours I’d lose the following morning. I had been looking forward to enjoying my last few hours exploring the property surrounding Tierra, not sitting in a car. Oh well, it was not the first time that my travel plans had been unexpectedly altered, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

The next morning, I really did choke back tears as I sat in the car headed south to Punta Arenas. It didn’t help the mood that Fernando (my very charming driver) was playing love ballads from the ’80s. I was happy when Fernando invited me to sit up front with him and regaled me with stories in broken English about driving for VIPs over the course of his career. One time, the head of the Chilean Air Force had been so pleased with his service for his family’s vacation that he surprised him with a trip to Antarctica. Sorry, Fernando, I wasn’t going to be able to compete there.

We finally pulled into the airport and I had to accept that my trip to Patagonia was over. In addition to my future ambitions as a hiking guide, I had also begun to mull over possible return trip itineraries in early 2020 if I wasn’t quite ready to start a new job by that time. However, that was still ten months away, and I had a lot to experience before then, so it was time to move on.

Even though Patagonia wasn’t my intentional first destination, I couldn’t have imagined a better place to start. It was just what I needed to unplug, throw myself out of my comfort zone, and get into nature. I will always remember the friendly people that I met, and Patagonia will hold a special place in my heart for the rest of my life (sorry if that was super cheesy, but it’s true!)