I left sunny summery Santiago in the early morning. Two flights and four ham and cheese sandwiches later, we started our descent into Punta Arenas and the weather suddenly turned. I could see choppy white-capped water and thin grey clouds whipped against the plane window. The airport was pretty desolate, and as I waited outside the airport for a bus that I was afraid would never come, I thought about how if a person wanted to get lost and be forgotten, this was a place you could do that. Once on the bus, I spent the whole four hour ride mesmerized by the scenery out the window. I kept wanting to take out my camera and shout to the driver to stop. The rain, the sunburnt fields, the shacks and herds of animals I’d never seen before. I tried, but the photos are all just a blur. So I reminded myself it was better to just put away the devices, stop trying to capture the moment, and just enjoy it for what it was. Temporary.
Exploring Puerto Natales
Puerto Natales sits near the end of the Sono Ultima Esperanzo, the Last Hope Sound. Which sounds ominous, but the place feels the opposite. I had some time to wander around town in between my planned activities, like a day trip to the Torres del Paine national park, a boat ride to the Balmaceda Glacier, and a horseback ride. The air in Puerto Natales smelled cold, like wet leaves. The scent reminded me of the New England town where I grew up.
Wild Hostel
In Puerto Natales a dreamy place called Wild Hostel sits on a street called Manuel Bulnes, the main drag of Puerto Natales (if that exists). The owner, Yuri, is Finnish. When I checked in he handed me a room key to my 5-bed “dorm.” I asked if I needed a front door key. He laughed a little and said, no, not in Puerto Natales! I had the chance to talk to him about how he ended up opening a hostel at (almost) the southern tip of the world. He worked for a big corporation for 17 years and was able to retire young. He traveled for two years before buying a sailboat and then met his now wife, a Chilean woman, in Indonesia. They decided their next dream was to open and run a hostel. So they abandoned the sailboat, still docked in Malaysia, and headed to Patagonia.
The space that is Wild Hostel was originally a yoga studio on the second floor with a bar downstairs. They gutted the space and went to task with the details, designing and making much of it themselves by hand. The table, the bar, the hardware, the textiles, the decor. There was a motley crew that seemed to hang out there all the time. I think some of them worked there but it was hard to tell. There was an American with a caricature-like handlebar mustache, an imported Brooklyn hispter. There was a Turkish girl who always wore neon blue eyeshadow and metallic spandex pants. The last night I was there they were sitting on the couch, a guitar across their laps, lightly caressing each other. Odd couple if there ever was one. Yuri and his wife have a dog named Iho, which means “brother.” I’d never before met a dog that seemed so much like a person. I told Yuri that I thought Iho had a human spirit.
As I walked down Manuel Bulnes one day a gap toothed man opened his window and shouted “Happy!” just as a little dog was running past me. I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or the dog but it made me smile. I walked past what seems like a very deserted street, with spray painted garage doors that were shut, no pedestrians, no shop fronts but not a residential feel either, and then from one entrance the sound of jazz and bouncing ping pong balls. There were so many trees whose branches sweep to one side, I heard they grow that way because the wind is always blowing so hard.
Glaciers and wildlife on the Last Hope Sound
One of my favorite experiences in Chilean Patagonia was a boat ride up the fjords of the Last Hope Sound to see the Balmaceda and Serrano Glaciers in Bernardo O’Higgins National Park. I booked ahead of time with a local company called Turismo 21 de Mayo through Bories House, where I was staying the night before.
At sunrise I woke up and dressed quickly and raced down to the harbor. I was so afraid of being late that I had made a quick breakfast sandwich at Bories House and then ran to the boat, thinking I would be the last one to arrive. In fact, I was the first. Later, after I had made friends with some of the ship crew, they told me they thought I was adorable that morning. “So cute, she showed up with bread in her hand!”
The vessel we were on looked like a tugboat, and whereas in the U.S. you might be told to buckle in, we were allowed to roam both the interior and exterior decks of the boat the whole time. There were some pretty big waves that crashed over the side and if you found yourself on the edge you had to grab on for dear life to the railings. I got soaked, and it was completely thrilling.
On the way up to the glaciers we stopped at a sea lion colony, and everyone on the boat was hanging off one side trying to get a good look at them. I turned around and saw the most perfect rainbow I’ve ever seen on the other side of the sound. Further up we saw condors, and guanaco, and more rainbows. They steered the tippy boat to a spot really close to the Balmaceda glacier and told us how much it has recently receded from the water due to climate change.
To get to the Serrano Glacier we docked at the entrance to Bernardo O’Higgins and did an easy 30 minute hike to the glacier led by Manuel, one of the boat boys. He told us we could drink the glacier water, so I filled my water bottle with water dripping off melting ice from the rocks.
When we got back on the boat we were each rewarded with a glass of whiskey on the rocks. The couple sitting across from me downed their whiskey in a gulp and immediately started singing love songs to one another. We docked at the beautiful Estancia Perales and went to a large cabin for the lamb asado lunch and a huge glass of wine. I sat with a middle aged couple from the Netherlands and the wife was telling me that now, in retirement, their big priority is travel. They started with a trek in Nepal, and next stop was here in Patagonia. She said they’ll continue to do active stuff until they’re too old. “Then you can do the easy city vacations.” I couldn’t agree more.
The ride home was smooth and most people napped. The sun set and I chatted with the boat crew and ended up meeting some of them out later for pisco sours and Cerveza Austral at a little bar for locals in Puerto Natales, after I ate dinner solo at (what claims to be) the only afro-chilean restaurant in the world, Afrigonia. At the restaurant there was a guy from Wild Hostel at one table, and people I sat next to on my boat trip at another. There were people at another table who ended up being on my bus ride out of town. Puerto Natales really felt small – more like a neighborhood than a town – to me, being from New York City.
There’s also something funny about the light there. It always looks like the sun is rising or setting. The thing about Patagonia is it’s sort of like the North Pole – a place people talk about but it isn’t marked on a map. Maybe you don’t really know it exists until you get there.
