Day 4 - El Chalten: Mirador Cerro Torre, Lago Torre, Mirador Maestri

Our first full day in the town of El Chalten was our first long hike. The big day! 13+ miles! The hike for which Jonathan and I had been training (ha, nope) for months (still no) and bought new hiking clothes (ok yes that last one is true).

We had a preview of our hike the day before as we gazed upon the majesty of Cerro Torre. Here's a photo Jonathan took day 3 of where we were headed day 4.

One of the peaks on the right peaks on the right is Cerro Torre. Don't ask me which one. Methinks if I were a teensy bit speedier with the updates I would remember which mountain is the correct one. But it's a nice view, no? Pumped us up for the next day's hike. 

Jonathan and I took a few hundred photos of the hike, and going through them just now I noticed that each of us has our excited photo.

Jonathan, just as we began the hike:

Mommy Girl, midway up the trail:

I don't even know what is happening here, some kind of heel click:

And a group shot with Big Steve looking about as gleeful as he gets (sorry Dad, this was the best I could find):

I will now include a few of the gorgeous sights as we hiked to Lago Torre.

The sediments in the water make it look murky. It's called "glacial milk," which for some reason sounds disgusting to me, but it's really beautiful to see in a stream.

The above photo really nicely displays something that will feature repeatedly in the Patagonia photos: layers on vs. layers off. Bipolar clothing. What can you do?

I see this path and all I can remember is that there was a bathroom nearby. Every few miles there were Port A Potties installed by saintly granolas. As one who does not go in the wild, I cannot describe how much those meant to me.

We made it to the lake! The wind blew so hard we had to take shelter behind giant rocks as we ate our sandwiches and cookies, but after I finished my food I climbed down the lake and discovered that the wind wasn't so intense. Next time I lunch there I'll remember that.

Listen up anyone who heard Jonathan tell about the time he picked up an iceberg in Patagonia:

THIS IS THE "ICEBERG" HE WAS TALKING ABOUT. 

It's not an iceberg. It's a piece of ice. I support my husband 100% and have his back in every smart decision he makes, but when he decides to call that an iceberg I draw the line.

Jonathan, when he's not imagining icebergs, is an excellent photog. He showed me the ins and outs of the panoramic iPhone picture. He took the above photo, possibly as he showed me. I don't recall.

After we enjoyed lunch and walked around Lago Torre we hiked up around the right side of the lake to get a closer look at the glacier.

This is awful, but I had a nasty cold the entire time we were in Argentina. I packed a handkerchief because at some point I was taught that if you're hiking/trekking/camping/whatever you take a hankie. Never used one, but it's nice to have. On this hike my mom suggested I use my handkerchief to blow my nose, which was a horrifying prospect. I'd always hoped if I ever needed to use one it would be as a tourniquet or to bandage an open wound or something. But a snot rag? Gosh no. Until about 1/3 of the way through the hike when I went through an entire package of tissues plus all of Jonathan's tissues. See that blue hankie tied to the front of my Camelback? It's an actual handkerchief being used as a handkerchief. Let's not talk about this anymore.

Remember just a few pictures ago when Jonathan had a zillion layers on? HA. Not anymore! Hotter than Hades up in here. This happened about a dozen times per hike.

OK, OK, hotter than Hades for some people. I was probably still chilly at this point, hence the fleece. And as a side note, I don't know why I've got Jonathan in your standard last-day-of-middle-school pose. I swear I do like him as more than a friend, even if my body language suggests otherwise. Jonathan, I'm sorry for this. I like you like you.

After we snapped some photos and had some snacks at Mirador Maestri we began the hike back to El Chalten.

We met a German Swiss kid named Urs who was hitchhiking his way through Patagonia, and we hiked the rest of the way with him. I was thrilled at his plans. Jonathan less so. He spent the rest of the hike/day trying to talk me out of it. But stay tuned, guys. It's happening.

The hike back was kind of a blur. I know it involved a lot of walking, but the most memorable part for me was the last bit when I ran to the hotel. I recall having a ton of energy, but the amount of water I had been drinking may have also factored into my decision to run the final leg.

Back at the hotel we showered and went to a side room for a wine tasting and climber's account of Cerro Torre expeditions. The wine tasting was a real bust for our table, more like a cracker tasting and a watch checking to see how much longer until dinner.

Dinner was exceptional that night. The restaurant was this old cramped wooden lodge (though how old could it be in a town that was created in 1985? I just realized that) that served the most delicious locally-sourced food, and since a bunch of people thought Jonathan and I ate a lot (crazy!) they kept giving us more. It was heaven.

Day 3 - El Calafate and El Chalten

For all its fanciness and otherworldly beauty our hotel the first night in Patagonia did not have AC. I mean, sure I slept like a baby, but no AC.

What the hotel did have was a killer breakfast buffet. In fact, all the places we stayed at some version of a breakfast buffet, and they all seemed to revolve around the notion that Americans eat sweets for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Who am I to prove them wrong?

But back to Patagonia. We woke up in El Calafate, ate at our hotel (mmmm boy), and walked a few blocks to the meting place for our group. Then we started our journey via bus to El Chalten.

Just found this map off some travel website. It shows exactly where we went! How great is the internet?

Within moments of stepping on the bus Jonathan and I passed out. Our friend Betsy loaned us these pillows and we used them to sleep pretttttty much everywhere. Along with eating a lot and hiking a lot (more to come on that one), we slept a LOT on this trip. 

The first big OOOOO, AAAHH moment of our trip came when we spotted guanacos. 

You can barely see a herd (are they called herds?) of guanacos along the horizon. Guanacos are in the same family as the llama, alpaca, and vicunya, meaning I love them so much it defies logic. After a few days the novelty wore off and I stopped snapping awake at the mention of another sighting. Still, watching them jump from a stand-still to clearing a fence as tall as their necks was a sight I shall never forget. So majestic. So misproportioned.

We stopped at a place called Estacia Estela where a family has maintained the same secluded ranch for decades. Many of Argentina's estancias came about through the country's homesteading movement, which I believe came about around the same time as the US homesteading. I may be wrong on that one. I slept through a lot of the explanations.

Estancia Estela was our official hike, and though it was a quick one it was the perfect introduction to real life Patagonia (at this point you may ask, "Real life Patagonia? Had the past 24 hours been fake Patagonia?" and my answer to that is I don't know what I mean by that, but it's late and I'm tired and Jonathan is too busy doing actual work for me to press him for help thinking of the proper wording).

It was crazy windy that day, the general trend in the region, so that's why I look like Mike Teavee before Willy Wonka shrunk him.

I think this photograph was precipitated by my shouting, "HEY DAD! DAAAADDDDD! I'M GOING TO TAKE YOUR PICTURE! DAAAAAAAADDDDDD" over the sound of the wind.

This first hike began in the desert, as did many of our hikes, and since I had no idea what to expect, I simply thought hmmm, Patagonia looks interesting.

But then something magical happened. . .

As we reached the top of one of those sandy hills and looked out, we glimpsed the first of a week and a half's worth of breathtaking views.

Not to mention the view of Jonathan's windblown hair, which is stunning.

I had to keep reminding myself that this was not the edge of the world. It wasn't even the edge of the country. But it looked like it. This spot along Lake Viedma, a glacier-fed lake, felt like the last stop before Antarctica.

Really freaking cold water. In case there was any doubt.

Really freaking cute parents. 

Speaking of parents, Jonathan's parents were so nice and got us our first grown up camera for Christmas, along with the travel bag Jonathan frequently sports in these photos. He and I took turns with the camera, and when was wasn't pointing and clicking, he or she was snapping iPhone photos. So when it comes to trip photos we have an assortment of his, hers, and ours totaling about 6 or 7 thousand shots of about a two week trip.

Our hike ended as we came full circle and ended up back at the estancia, where we enjoyed a lunch of empanadas and. . . shoot, I only remember the empanadas. 

Even though it was windy that afternoon, I wouldn't trade the weather for anything because the cloud cover was not to be believed. Here we see the clouds rolling in over the estancia, with Lake Viedma in the foreground.

We got back in the bus and drove the rest of the way to El Chalten, where we set out on the hike to the Mirador de los Condores, or Condor Lookout. 

Still cloudy and windy 

We had a beautiful view of El Chalten, a city which, like me, was created about 30 years ago for the sole purpose of travel and has been awesome ever since.

The wind almost knocked us over as we stood atop the lookout. I mean it was seriously crazy up there.

We had a killer view of the valley, along with Cerro (Peak) Fitz Roy and Cerro Torre, which has a fascinating history of climbers reaching (or claiming to have reached) the summit.

Speaking of reaching the summit, about 10 minutes after we reached the top of the lookout we went back down because the wind was beating us up. We hiked down, across to town, and up to our hotel, Los Cerros, which became home base for the next few days as we hiked from El Chalten to the mountains around it. 

Day 2 - Buenos Aires and El Calafate

One of the great moments of travel comes when you open your eyes in the morning and think Holy crap I'm in ___________________! That for sure happened waking up in Argentina. Jonathan and I met the folks for breakfast where I saw alfajores (dulce de leche sandwich cookies) and fell in love with the country all over again.

Our hotel was across the street from the Falkland/Islas Malvinas (depending on where you stand on the issue) Memorial, so we stopped there.

We walked through some lovely parks and were utterly enchanted.

I went to multiple bodegas looking for someone who would charge me correct price for a Coca Cola Light, since everyone seems to think I am made of pesos and I AM NOT MADE OF PESOS. But I found the best deal and got my bevy.

Behind my shoulder is the widest road with the most lanes in the universe.

This is just a snippet of that road. Even I could not jaywalk across this. And jaywalking is my infraction of choice.

We arrived at our destination: the Teatro Colon. I had been dying to see it and hooo boy did it live up to hype.

The downside was the parting of ways with Mommy Girl and Big Steve, since touring opera houses is not their thing. The upside was the reaffirmation that I married the right person. As cheap as Jonathan and I are when it comes to travel, we were both all about paying for a tour of the opera house.

While we waited for the tour to begin we walked around the neighborhood, where we saw art installations, some kind of Education building, the Supreme Court building, and various memorials to disappeared students, lawyers, and judges. Yikes.

We returned to the Teatro Colon in time for our tour, along with 20 or so other English speakers, including a senior missionary couple from Utah. Or maybe Idaho. It's been a while.

The above photo got me in trouble. Thirty seconds into our tour and already I am getting yelled at for lollygagging. But look at this place! Can you blame me?

 The glass out of this world. As was the marble. And wood. And paintings. And statues.

The different colors of marble are from different regions in Italy. Who even has time for that? Or money?

Our tour guide, who was all smiles until you tried to sneak away from the group to snap a few photos. Don't ask me how I know that.

The opera was being fixed up during the off season. Jonathan and I made a blood pact to go back and see a show one day. We cut our hands and shook on it. At least that's how I'm remembering it now and Jonathan whether or not that's how it actually happened I'm holding you to it, FYI.

Back when we parted ways with Mommy Girl and Big Steve we agreed to meet up at the hotel a few hours later to catch our flight to El Calafate. But then the Teatro Colon tour ended and we realized we had only seen item 1 of a list of a kajillion things. Jonathan and I started to panic. So we just walked very, very quickly from place to place. 

We stopped at the Jewish synagogue where Jonathan was scolded for trying to take a picture of the facade. 

So we walked across the street and he took a picture. Two, actually, including the one above. Those two photos shot to items 1 and 2 on Jonathan's list of most rebellious actions.

We sped to the obelisk, which I had wanted to see for no reason other than to say hey, I saw the obelisk! 

I can't get these photos to center. What can you do?

Thankfully as we dashed around we were better dressed than the day before when it was hotter than. . . I can't think of a non-inappropriate way to finish that sentence.

On that note, let's look at some interior shots of the cathedral! In fact, let's pause for a mission anecdote. To my knowledge every town in Peru has a Calle San Martin AKA San Martin Street. Someone out there may have evidence otherwise, but if so keep it to yourself. Point is, I heard the name San Martin all day erryday. Imagine my surprise, nay, GLEE when we walked into the cathedral and found San Martin himself! Buried, of course. But I still got more excited than that time I ran into Natalie Portman in a Maoz place in Madrid. I took waaaaaayyyyy to many pictures, but here are a few:

Jonathan clutching something (probably his last shred of patience with his overly-emotive wife) and smiling under San Martin's plaque.

We left the cathedral with about 10 minutes until we needed to meet my parents, but across from the cathedral was the Casa Rosada (LOL @ Argentina, their White House is pink) so we booked it across this plaza:

To this place:

We walked up to the Casa Rosada in much the same way that one dude walked up to the White House last year, except we didn't have to hop any fences. They just let us walk up! Good thing, too. The gentleman below is not a rule breaker.

And this chica hadn't eaten in hours except maybe just a few snacks and that Coca Cola Light. So OK maybe she had eaten in hours. The point is I was hungry so gracias Argentina for making your public spaces muy, muy accessible.

We ran from that very spot to hail a cab, we jumped in the cab, and 10 minutes later we were back at the hotel where my parents were waiting in the lobby with their luggage and breathing a sigh of relief that we finally decided to show up (we were like 3 minutes late but when there's a flight to catch 3 min = practically all day).

We had to take 2 separate cabs to the airport and someone, probably my mom, made the mistake of saying, "Race you there!" Oh, shoot. It's on.

On the ride to the airport we drove past so many things I had wanted to see but didn't have time to see! The cab driver was 100% not in the mood for all the questions I threw his way. "What's this? What's that building? Hey what are those people doing? Who is that named after? Why is that there? Have you been there? What's it like inside?" He went from polite to basically ignoring me. But all was forgiven because we beat my parents' cab to the airport by about 5 minutes (Ohhh, Mom and Dad, did you think I forgot about that? Not a chance). Also, on the way I took this picture of the ocean and marbled sky and stray fishing rods.

The domestic airport in Buenos Aires is crazy chaotic. There are masses of people in lines that stretch up and down walkways in no order whatsoever. I didn't particularly care because we were headed to Patagonia and it was the most exciting thing ever, but under different circumstances I can see that being really annoying.

Also, Mommy Girl said we should split up into different security lines to see who got out first and, well you can probably see where I'm going with this, but Jonathan and I were through and collected our carry-ons before theirs were even on the conveyor belt.

We ate at a Hard Rock Cafe next to our gate. It was the one and only bad meal I ate the entire time we were in Argentina. So from here on out, even if I don't mention all the food, just know that it was copious and it was phenomenal.

When the plane arrived in Patagonia I woke up and looked out the window and thought, "Wow. Ok so this place looks. . . nice?" If you're into that Point of the Mountain, pre-Brigham Young kind of look.

The airport is really cool, though, because it's just a building and a tiny strip of runway along a giant lake. In the middle of nowhere. As in the closest town (El Calafate) is a 1/2 hour drive away.

The cab driver took all four of us to our hotel, Los Sauces Casa Patagonia, which was sprawling and green and beautiful and had wild birds roaming around the cabins.

Jonathan really took a liking to the birds. This surprised me, since he rarely takes a liking to any kind of animal, but then I remembered that he's really a 70 year old in a young man's body, and 70 year olds love bird watching. With that realization, everything else fell into place.

Here he is coming back from taking a few photos of his birds.

My parents are the funniest. For so many reasons. But one of those reasons is that they have this saying that they use a lot: I had a big lunch. As in, "I don't need to eat dinner. I had a big lunch." I've heard this for years now and it continues to baffle me. I mean, sure you had a big lunch. But it's dinner time, so. . . food? Point is, we arrived at the hotel around dinner time but Big Steve hung back to write in his journal, because he "had a big lunch" (I saw his lunch, it was not that big), so Mommy Girl, Jonathan, and I went and cruised El Calafate. It's the hub for Patagonian travelers, complete with lots of shops and food. We got ice cream first, and while we ate it we figured out where to eat dinner.

I don't remember what time this photo was taken but I think it was something like 8pm. Broad daylight outside. So beautiful.

We dined at a meat restaurant that night. Just a restaurant full of meat. It was incredible. Seriously though, the national cuisine is so perfectly tailored to my tastes it's unreal. That night I ate ice cream and a smoking portable grill full of assorted meats and sausages and if I had to return to the USofA after that I would have called the trip a success.