Alex & Madie’s travel route in Chile.
Days in Chile: 32 days
Our daily average cost for lodging and food per person: CLP $28600 ≈ $44.00
Cost of a 2L water: CLP $1500 ≈ $2.30
Cost of an empanada: CLP $1500 ≈ $2.30
Total time on an airplane: 7 hours
Total time on a bus: 28 hours and 40 minutes
Total time on a boat: 77 hours
Alex & Madie’s mode of transportation in Chile.
From our travels in January 2017.
Scenes outside San Pedro de Atacama, where there are impressive sand and stone formations throughout Valle de la Luna, including the beautiful amphitheater in the distance. The diagonal line crossing just below it is the road that cuts through the salt-covered sandscape.
Jarabe De Palo - Depende
The port city of Antofagasta, Chile.
We’re back in Santiago, hoping to get a Bolivian visa for Madie. As a US citizen, she can’t go for free, and because the consulate in Santiago is not authorized to give visas to US citizens (at the time), they advise us to try in Antofagasta or Arica, 16 to 20 hours by bus. We luck out on a cheap flight, $40 for a two hour trip instead of a dreaded overnight, overpriced ride.
As we approach Antofagasta, in awe of the arid landscape before us, we discover it’s an industrial coastal town, primarily used by mining companies. We’re in the Northern part of Chile, the driest region, and one we will learn later, contested by Bolivia, who wants its tribe’s territory back as well as access to water (Bolivia is only one of two landlocked countries in South America). “The Pearl of the North” has little to offer: expensive hotels (whose main purpose is to host businessmen?), a mall with a TGIFridays, and overlooking the historical square, a humble office with a line out the door, run by a single person, Felipe the Bolivian Consul.
After Sky Airlines loses my backpack, we still find the courage to go to the consulate, only to be turned away for missing photocopies. And today, Trump officially becomes president. It’s a bad day on all fronts, so we decide to limit the damage and do nothing instead. Visa will wait until Monday, or maybe we just won’t go to Bolivia. In eight months of travel, it’s one of the few times when all things seem stacked against us. We’re idling here.
Poolside doodles while we wait.
After a side trip to Peru, my luggage finds its way to our hotel two days later. (I gained new trunks, a T-shirt and underwear as collateral, and spent a few days swimming in a pool overlooking the ocean, so it wasn’t all so bad). It’s Sunday - we feel a little better. Chile remains expensive, especially Antofagasta, so our lunches are limited to the hotel - fast food for dinner. We talk about our plans, and settle on trying the visa to Bolivia again. A few days later, it’s finally accepted, just in time for our bus to San Pedro De Atacama.
Moon Valley, San Pedro de Atacama, Chile.
And just like that, we cross the Andes by land for the fourth time. And once more, it is a completely different landscape. We see nothing, just rock, sand and dirt. This part of the Andes is dry and hot, nearly impossible for life to survive - still mesmerizing and beautiful in its own way. The only richness are minerals, we see a few mines as we pass by.
Four hours later we arrive in San Pedro De Atacama, the driest desert on Earth. Here, it rains only three days per year. The town is a tourist town, full of hostels, day trips to geysers, lagunas of flamingos, and some of the best stargazing in the world. With few days of rain, little to no light pollution outside, and 2500m elevation, it has the best conditions to look at the stars. But this year is exceptional; as in many countries in our travel, the weather is wack. It’s the 20th consecutive day with overcast and rain.
Life on Mars, San Pedro de Atacama, Chile.
Despite the warnings, we take the sunset tour to La Valle De La Luna (the Moon Valley) and marvel at its large dunes and moon-like landscapes. An incredible succession of geological marvels within the site, somewhat reminiscent of Arizona’s deserts and parks, or Death Valley. As we climb towards a viewing point, a storm starts in the distance. We begin our leisurely 30 minute hike back to the car, and start running when the rain pours in large drops, thunder breaking meters from us. The guide does his best to continue, but we have to rapidly drive back to town before getting stranded.
Las Tres Marías is said to be nearly one million years old. We were able to see this crazy rock formation of eroded gravel, salt, and quartz, just before the black clouds rolled in and covered the entire sky. The perfect ending to our month in amazing Chile.
San Pedro doesn’t do well in water, with the earth as compact as it is the rest of the year. Rocks fall on roads that become rivers, and entire sections are completely impassable. We somehow make it back to the hostel unscathed, only to find it completely flooded by the rain. We roll up our sleeves, our pants, and start helping the others bucket, sweep, funnel water out. By chance, our room was spared in the damage. After a couple hours helping and with the hostel finally under control, we cook in the dark and head back to our room. Somehow, she giggles - my little devil loves adventure, and this is one we will remember, Chile sending us off in style.
The most epic mountains we’ve ever seen. Like a painting, really.
Elbow - Magnificent (She Says)
Puerto Natales was made for the North American and European tourists, with its fine dining restaurants, coffee shops, and overpriced backpacker hotels. We feel out of place already, in so little time since disembarking from Navimag. We find a simple homestay and poorly negotiate for a week stay. People come to Puerto Natales with dreams of a wet, cold week of trekking in Torres Del Paine, the dramatic Mordor-like national park of the area. They come for the letter-named treks, the W and the O. Hordes of heavy duty backpackers exchange looks of approval at the brand of their snow shoes, while we, the underdressed, out-of-shape, unprepared travelers come into town to find a cheap way into the park and see how we can waste a little time. We want to stay in Patagonia to find a last-minute ticket to Antartica. For so many a destination, Puerto Natales is only a stop to us.
Into the woods.
En route to Grey Glacier in the southern Patagonian Ice Field.
After deciding on taking it easy, we rent a car with credit card points, quickly calculating that bus tours will only cost too much and tell us where to go. It’s a beautiful ride through the Patagonian landscape, carved by cold winds and incessant rain. We arrive at the park, blown away by gusts as soon as we open the door, quickly making our way to a first stop for a boat ride to the glacier of a bright, fluorescent blue. We’re certain we found Superman’s hiding spot when they explain the color is due to the density of the ice filtering out all other colors.
The smaller peaks of Torres del Paine National Park
One small section of Grey Glacier, a mountain glacier in the Southern Patagonian ice field that’s 6km wide and 30m high.
The colossal peaks of Los Cuernos, carved by ice millions of years ago, are simply breathtaking. In months of travel, we had never seen anything so grand and menacing at the same time. We drive around the park, amongst the yellows of the grass, the bluest blues of the lakes of glacier water and rock flour, and the grey, black, and whites of the park’s peaks, culminating above 2,500 meters.
It’s easy to get lost and wander around here.
We drive back to town, silent, still in awe of the park, when we see a backpacker in the middle of nowhere. He tells us his story over the next half hour: he’s Russian, came from a sailboat crew in Antartica, and is now walking and hitchhiking all the way to Buenos Aires before flying back home. It’s not so bad, he says, his backpack is only 45kg and that’s mostly due to the sub-zero tent. We drop him off in the middle of another nowhere.
Where we picked up our Russian hitchhiker.
Long roads, beautiful views, rays of light.
A cold and stormy summer day in Southern Chile.
After a few more days in Puerto Natales, we make our way to Punta Arenas, still hoping for a chance to get tickets to Antartica. The current price is still over $12,000 per person. We quickly find Punta Arenas to be too expensive for us and won’t stay long, and finally admit to ourselves that Antartica will have to wait for next time. We’re in the high season still, and even discounted tickets are well over our budget. This is the first and only time cost is a real limiting factor. We give ourselves a well-named consolation prize: an afternoon trip to Isla Magdalena, full of penguins. Amongst high pitch screams and unexpected smells, we become enamored with the little animals.
A giant penguin colony in the middle of the Strait of Magellan. Every year the Magellanic penguins arrive here to breed on Isla Magdalena, mating with the same partner and returning to the same burrow year after year.
If we weren’t going to make it to Antarctica to see penguins, at least we could see them on Isla Magdalena. This was the furthest south we made it in South America, and these little guys were here to greet us.
It’s a bittersweet end to the South of Chile, but it’s time to start our way back up South America’s west coast. We have a lot more to see, to learn, and to do. We missed our Antartica goal but made a true, new friend. Patagonia will stay one of the best memories of our trip.
Puerto Natales is the entrance to the park. Buses to and from El Calafate are available to get there, but the best way is with Navimag or by plane.
Torres Del Paine is a unique park and an experience like no other. Plan weeks or months in advance if you want to do the 5 or 10 days trek, respectively the W and the O. It seems well worth it but requires significant gear.
Punta Arenas is the closest point to Ushuaia. A few more parks can be visited from the town, including Isla Magdalena, or it can be a starting point to Ushuaia (by cruise or air).
