Torres del Paine – January 20th, 2015
Jan 21st, 2015 by rallyadmin
We had thought of doing a morning only tour in El Calafate, probably a shorter boat tour to the Perito Moreno glacier. But that didn’t look likely. As we walked around the town, we noticed that the streets and sidewalks were empty, the shops we’re closed until 10AM and that the only tour companies open this early were booking tours for the next day. The plan had been to stay in El Calafate and then move on to Torres del Paine Parc Nacional. Plan B: we checked out of the hotel. Loaded the car and left for the Torres.
It’s only about 250 kms to Torres. The route took us back to Ruta 40 and then south on Ruta 40. Both legs quite boring. Then a turn west to the entrance to the Parc. The road is also boring.
El Calafate is in Argentina and Torres del Paine is in Chile so there’s another border crossing looming. They’re always good for a few laughs.
Argentine customs is a snap. Aduana goes easily provided if you don’t mind standing in line for half an hour behind some biker can’t provide documents for this bike. Plus the Aduana check isn’t computerized. A poor young official has to enter the document data by hand.
Working at this crossing must ether be a punishment for some major Aduana sin or be a hell-week type hazing that the poor young man must go through. Either way, he’s not happy with the current state of affairs.
While we are in line we chat with an English couple and the conversation primarily revolves around the question that plagues Americans and Brits alike: why is Jeremy Clarkson from BBC’s Top Gear such an ass? They confirm that he’s an ass off-air also. There we are: separated by a common language but joined together by a common cause.
We leave Argentine customs and drive a few kms and enter Chilean customs. They have this whole procedure down. (Turkish immigration are you listening?) The immigration officer starts with a joke. (Excuse me, a joke!!!!) “Where are you going?” “To Chile.” “No you’re not.” “Why not?” “ “Because I said so.” A big smile and forms handed out, forms filled, passports stamped.(That click, click sound of the immigration officer’s stamp is still the greatest sound in the world.)
Back in the car and drive to the gate of the park. Stop and head in for permits. “Where do you think we can find a room?” It’s the high of high season and rooms are scarce. “Head this way to Las Torres. Check them. If not, you can try the other hotels of check into a camping area. They always have room.”
Head up the road toward Las Terros. Stop along the way for even more guanacos pictures. Cross a ridge and see the full monty frontal of the Torres. It’s a truly jaw-dropping sight. Take the pics and head on to the hotel.
They have rooms for a minor shiek’s ransom. But we’re here and there are very few options. We take the room and there’s a notice about a sunrise photo tour. We sign up. The trip leaves at 6AM and that’s doable. Returns by ten. Back in the inn by 9PM and in bed – a few long day..
Obi-wan