Patagonia offers the traveller blue glaciers, crisp windy days and great photo opportunities

Argentina, Patagonia and the Andes — names that have always rang a bell and held a distinct charm. For a long time, I believed that I would get to visit Patagonia only through the pages of the National Geographic, as these spectacularly pretty places were also pretty faraway. Until the phone rang one day and I was on a plane to Argentina two weeks later. First stop: Buenos Aires, where we were to be stationed for two months. Well, not me. Though vibrant and energetic, there was no way that I would stay confined to the capital when I had the rest of the country to explore. Argentina is a huge landmass with an incredibly diverse geography. From the warm and tropical northern borders that the country shares with Brazil, down to Ushuaia in the south, there’s so much to see. Ushuaia is often referred to as the “End of the World” — the only landmass south from there is the icy continent of Antarctica. It definitely wasn’t cool to come all the way and not venture beyond. I decided that while the rest of the crew would party and ring in the new year, I would head to Perito Moreno in Southern Patagonia: one of the world’s few advancing glaciers located within the Parque Nacional Los Glaciares. I can’t remember the last time I fought for a window seat, but this time it was important I get my first view from the air. When the Andes appeared on the horizon, I was thrilled. For those who know their adventure gear, I was soon looking at the distinctly-shaped peak of Mount Fritz Roy, also the logo for the adventure clothing line called — what else? — Patagonia. The journey in the hallowed land began in El Calafate, a picture-perfect, quaint and somewhat touristy town located on the southern tip of South America. A place of transit, the town is filled to its brim with hitchhikers, mountaineers and tourists on their way in or out. El Calafate sits on the shores of Lake Argentino and is located 78km from the glaciers. There are several buses and excursions that start from El Calafate to take tourists to the number of glaciers located around. Named after a thorny bush (Calafate), typical to this part of southern Patagonia, the town is located on the southwest province of Santa Cruz. A popular lore states that those who eat the purple fruit of the Calafate have to return to Patagonia — I don’t think I did, though I should have. Honestly though, there’s not much to do in El Calafate. But, do take a walk along the quaint by-lanes with their bright “doll houses”. Listen to the whoosh of the breeze sneaking in and out of the trees and enjoy its nip. Located at a latitude of 50 degrees south, it gets reasonably cold even when the summer sun shines bright. For those who like a clearer to-do list, there’s the Historical Interpretation Centre, a museum of sorts, that takes guests on a quick geological and historical tour (100 million years!) of the region. The town centre is compact and chock-a-block with shops — there’s the usual array of souvenir shops, great (and expensive) adventure gear stores, cafes and restaurants. If I really have to nitpick, then I would say that the food left me a tad disappointed. Not that there was a dearth of good places to eat. However, if you’re someone who likes to sample local on red meat. My lunch venue for the day was an Italian restaurant. Post-lunch it was a stroll around the town once more. Lake Argentino can be spotted from most vantage points in El Calafate. On its banks, there’s a bird sanctuary with convenient trails running through it. In El Calafate the weather is dry with only 300 mm of rains a year, while the sanctuary, situated to the west, gets a minimum of 1,500mm of rains per year. Scenic grasslands, horses grazing, lakes and the majestic mountains in the distance — could it get any better? Because it was December 31st when I landed at El Calafate, the atmosphere was of celebration. Shops remained open till 10:30 pm and I wasn’t complaining, specially since it was still bright daylight at “night”. It gave me ample time to do the touristy bit—buy a T-shirt with the largest print of a glacier and take several photographs. Because of the clarity of the air and light, most of them turned out to be better than I expected. This was perhaps the quietest 31st December that I had ever spent. Away from the social dos of Delhi, away from the crazy crew parties in Buenos Aires, there I was sitting in a little hotel room in a far corner of the world, waiting for the clock to usher in the new decade. The moment arrived, the pyrotechnics went off in this little town, and I went to bed soon after. The first day of 2011 was on a bus. Not that I minded. The 80km ride to Los Glaciares National Park was breathtaking. The tour began by a boat at the Bay Harbour — Bajo de las Sombras — 22km from The Glaciers National Park entrance and eight kilometres from the glacier. The boat takes tourists to the opposite coast of Peninsula de Magallanes, crossing the Rico Branch of Argentino Lake. The sailing time is about 20 minutes. Nothing prepared me for the first glimpse of the glacier. I had seen the pictures, but standing next to the 60m (and higher) walls, I felt tiny. Our group was whisked away on a boat towards the fluorescent blue wall, formed 400 years ago in the High Andes. After all, the idea was to walk on the ice. A short lesson on glaciology followed, often broken by thunderous cracking, because the wall of ice moves perpetually and large chunks fall into the freezing waters of the lake. As we jumped out of our skins, our guide barely seemed to notice the noise. Usually conducted along the side of the glacier (that area moves less than the middle), tourists are provided crampons to enable traction when they go on their walk. (And if you still wobble a bit, there are specialists who will give you a short training on how to manage better.) We were all carrying empty bottles which we filled up at a small pool of water. There it was — the real deal, the purest “mineral water” I had ever tasted. At the end of a two-hour walk, we were led to a spot where a table had been laid out with cake and bottles of local champagne, which were opened using an ice axe. As we headed towards the northern side of the glacier, we got a panoramic view from walkways and balconies. From there we got a good sense of the scale and spotted the famous bridge of ice, formed and destroyed every few years as the glacier presses into the nearest piece of land. The ice cuts the lake off into two sections by forming a natural dam and the water from the lake erodes into the ice forming a bridge, which eventually crashes rather spectacularly every couple of years. And some lucky visitors get to see that. Though I had to hop on to a flight and head to Buenos Aires soon afterwards, if you ever make it to Patagonia, make time to do more. There’s plenty more that one can do in the region, like hop across to the Chilean side of the Andes, take a boat ride to see some of the other mighty glaciers around here, go whale watching, or catch a short flight to Ushuaia, at the southernmost tip of the continent, and possibly the inhabited world. You can get onto a ship to Antarctica from there, something I have always wanted to do. But that will have to wait for another day