Chile is a long thin country sandwiched in the middle of the Andes and the Pacific Ocean. On the plane from Santiago to Punta Arenas I looked out of the window for most of the journey marvelling at the scenery below. I abruptly recognised the peaks of the Torres, which I would soon be finding at closer quarters.
Punta Arenas is the southern most town in Chile and like Ushuaia, its counterpart in Argentina, it is the main departure point for ships cruising to the Antarctic Peninsula. I met Alex, the Equitour Worldwide Riding Holidays agent in Chile and the rest of the small group of riders, in a comfortable guesthouse on Bernardo O'Higgins Avenue.
Beach Tents For Babies
Early the next morning I went for a walk along the edge of the shore and could approximately feel the chill in the air from the frozen continent. But I wasn't going cruising. Two hundred miles north in the wilds of Patagonia; a horse was waiting for me.
After breakfast we put all our bags in the waiting minibus and began our journey north over the desolate pampas of Southern Chile. We stopped in Puerto Natales, a pioneer town set on the edge of a lake. There was a charming potential about the particular storey houses constructed out of wood and brightly painted corrugated iron.
There were a few traveler shops and outdoor operation centres. We had our lunch in an Internet café, which was our last opening to make feel with the outside world for once in the Park; movable phones are out of range.
We met our trip leader, a young American girl called Magan, and our cook, Jorge and prolonged our journey north for someone else two hours. The scenery got hillier and the road got bumpier until we arrived at our next destination and start of our adventure, a gorgeous estancia called Mirador del Paine. Estancias are working ranches and the Mirador was set in the middle of hills and a lake with views of the mountains in the distance. There were outbuildings dotted around and a very comfortable accommodation block where we would spend one night. There were horses in any place grazing around the buildings unrestricted by fences or barriers. That evening I had a superb meal of salmon steak and salad and my first taste of the local and very potent aperitif Pisco Sour.
The next morning I dressed for riding and packed my saddlebags with the bare essentials including full waterproofs and a lunch box. Even though it was summer in Chile, weather in the mountains is very unpredictable so we had to be prepared for anyone and everything. I met the local horseman or baquianos. Victor and Mirko, who would be the guides on the trip. We were taken to the horses and I was asked what sort of horse would I like. 'A quiet kind one' I said nervously, and I was given Loreto, a 15.3.bay mare. Soon I had my foot in the strange leather cup that is a Chilean stirrup and was up in the saddle ready for action. I rode along the track, which rose gradually into the hills and then straight through trees when suddenly the horse in front of me disappeared. Before I could even think about it, Loreto took me down into a steep gully, briefly stopped for a drink in the stream at the bottom and climbed niftily up the other side. This was my first feel of riding in this sort of terrain but by lunchtime I had gone down into so many gullies that I was quite used to it.
We stopped for lunch high up on a hill above Laguna del Toro. It was a gorgeous spot with mountains in the distance and a deep blue lake down below.
We prolonged by descending on a very steep track and then traversing over a scree slope on a very narrow path. There was a very long drop on one side and places where the path had slipped away but by now I realised that Loreto and the other horses were so surefooted and safe that I needn't worry. Loreto only walked when she was negotiating boulders. Her normal pace was a dinky jogging trot, which I learnt to sit to quite comfortably. When we arrived at the bottom of the mountain, Magan shouted ' fancy going a bit faster?' and we had the longest and most exhilarating gallop I have every experienced over the endless pampas. That night we stayed for the first of two nights in wooden cabins near a river and a cordial dinky cat came into my room and seemed very happy to sleep on my bed.
Over the next incorporate of days, we explored the area in a big circular route, climbing mountains on boulder-strewn paths, crossing rivers and enjoying lots of long gallops.
Early morning on the next stage of our journey, we left the horses in a corral near the National Park information Centre and we went on a boat trip to the sublime Glacier Gray and drank Pisco Sours near the wall of blue ice.
We returned to the corral and from here, we started on an eight-hour trek over the mountains to our next resting place. The sight of the Torres covered in snow, towering over clear blue lakes, was breathtaking. The ride took us straight through antique beech forests filled with white margarita daisies, condors flew overhead and herds of guanaco scattered over the hills as we approached. Each vista was epic and the sight of the sun's rays breaking straight through the clouds took on approximately biblical proportions. The journey took longer than it should because we kept stopping to take photographs.
It was approximately dark when we reached Laguna Azul bivouac and the hot meal waiting for us in the Quincho or public kitchen, was very welcome. I sat by the open fire and drank mate, the local herbal beverage, with the Mirko and Victor, before retiring to my tent.
The next day we set off with all the packhorses fully loaded and accompanied by extra Baquianos, for this time we were camping in the wild.
Baquianos are the local horse guides and are unique to the National Park. They wear very spellbinding costume consisting of baggy trousers tucked into high leather boots, a long sleeve shirt, woollen jumper and beret. around their waist they wear a wide leather belt tooled and decorated with old Chilean coins. These belts are very prized as the men make them while the long winter months when the park is inaccessible. The also make all the tack for the horses in the same style.
The journey to Lake Cimono was the feature of the whole trip for me. We encountered every sort of terrain and every kind of weather. At one point I was wearing full waterproofs as Loreto and I battled straight through the wind and the rain. We stopped for lunch near the ruins of an old house that had been destroyed by a storm years ago. There were still the remains of its unabridged fruit orchad and we ate handfuls of ripe gooseberries. The packhorses joined us and then went ahead to make camp. We rode straight through the very gorgeous and remote Dickson Valley until we reached the black shores of Lake Cimono.
We pitched our tents in a very high wind and while Jorge was preparing dinner, we drank Pisco Sours on the beach and watched the sun set behind the mountains.
The mess tent was very cramped with all of us sitting around the table but we had great fun after dinner practising drinking wine from the leather flasks that the baquianos use. Needless to say I managed to get more red wine down my sweater than in my mouth.
The next day we had a short trip to a Refugio on an island. We left the horses tethered under the trees and then had to shout for the boatmen to bring the boat across. This was not easy as the sound of the wind and the sound of the gushing river drowned out our cries. We waved our scarves in the air and screamed as loud as we could until the men heard us. A Refugio is a hostel where you can stay the night and due to its remoteness, most habitancy staying there were hikers. I also noticed that there were lots of very handsome Chilean guides.
On our way back to the camp, Victor was stopped by a incorporate of mountain park rangers whose horses needed shoeing. I watched as Victor pared the hoof down with his hunting knife and a stick of wood and then apply the shoes with a pair of forceps and hammer. He did it all so quickly and deftly.
We left our bivouac the following morning and rode back to Lake Azul where a minibus was waiting to converyance us to our next stopover. The men would take our horses along with the packhorses and herd them up into the mountains to an Estancia. Three of us decided we wanted to ride with the men and in an instant we were off galloping straight through trees, over rivers and up steep mountain sides. It was the most thrilling ride I had ever experienced.
We stayed at the Estancia La Tercera for two nights. It was on a high plateau with very clear views of the Torres in the distance. The horses were let loose and roamed the plains. The accommodation was very comfortable with soft beds and a dinky cat that slept with me mine both nights. This was becoming a base occurrence. It was here that we met Boris, a very handsome cowboy, who spoke no English but it didn't of course matter. We just smiled a lot. He had a very polite way with horses and was an exquisite rider. I think that Magan liked him a lot.
When we left La Tercera it was very sad, as we knew there was only one long day of riding and then it would all be over. The route took us onto the main road into the National Park. We stopped to look back at the Torres one more time and then prolonged down the dusty road back into civilisation.
I have very special memories of this trip but a extraordinary thing happened after it.
Magan and Boris got together and now live in the Usa and have a baby daughter.
If you want to book this holiday call the Louise on 0800 043 7942 or email on louise@equitour.co.uk and the web address is http://www.equitour.co.uk
A Chilean Adventure on Horseback
