The Parque Nacional Torres del Paine (Torres del Paine National Park). Chile travel report

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I leave the Tierra del Fuego ferry boat on the day that connects Isla Grande with the southernmost part of the American continent. Thirty-minute crossing, on the Strait of Magellan, and in Patagonia. From Punta Delgada, there's now a long transfer to Puerto Natales, but at least the number of kilometers traveled are fully asphalted. Along the way, the thoughts ...
Who knows, I wonder if this land will find that adventure many times I have foreshadowed, reading books on these territories, which warned the lady absolute nature. Around me opens landscapes where, on the sofa in my house, I closed his eyes to better imagine what I just read about magical and wild lands of Patagonia. Readings on the journeys of early explorers, along with reports of the great mountaineers climbing, I have loved since a boy, these lands extreme. Without ever having seen and experienced, was a po 'as if I had ever known, but Patagonia is in front of me, under me, around me. The can finally explore, enjoy, discover.
We make a first stop all'Estancia San Gregorio, right on the road. What was once a vast and glorious ranch is largely abandoned and has the appearance of a ghost town. Atmosphere to which the wrecks of ships loans on the beach: it is dell'Amedeo, famous for being the ship which arrived first Salesian Fathers in these places, and dell'Ambassador, ingloriously also finished on the north shore of the historic Strait of Magellano. We arrive in Puerto Natales to the last light of day in time to witness a spectacular sunset over the Seno Ultima Esperanza with the mind already projected to tomorrow, the Parque Nacional Torres del Paine, one of the main attractions of the entire Patagonia.
In the morning, after a look at the black-necked swans, which are characteristic of the region, we look directly at Laguna Azul, the most northern entrance of the park. The sky is gray and gloomy, raining and there's a little 'foggy. I just have to trust in one of the many and sudden weather changes that characterize the Patagonia. The road back to dirt, just outside Puerto Natales. A brief stop at the Cueva del Milodon rights and continue to Cerro Castillo. Walk down a stretch of road fenced on both sides by barbed wire, on which are posted the threatening signs: You remember the old hostilities between Chile and Argentina. The arms s'irrigidiscono and decrease the speed at the thought of being able to finish for any reason, off-road. The weather, meanwhile, improves and we are in the park without even realizing it. Fifty guanaco, which frightened by our arrival escape literally cutting them the way we like to welcome you to Paine. Laguna Azul to wait over an hour in the hope that the wind blows away the last body which in its cloudy on Torres del Paine. The day goes cheers. The wind always blows stronger and consequently the sky free from clouds, and then expect to be able to portray the three and famous granite towers that are reflected in the terse waters of the lagoon. In vain! One result is that you are suddenly affected by a real bucket of water, raising dall'impetuoso wind. We will be rewarded to the viewpoint of the great waterfall of the Rio Paine, and no matter whether here, the three peaks, it is not reflected in any lake. The view, however, is superb.
Laguna Amarga guardería to give a passage to Francisca, a young girl from Santiago, Chile, who works in the park during the summer season. As often happens in these circumstances, the interview focuses on obtaining information about their countries. There is no need to speak English, Francisca is' speaking slowly understand Spanish. The scenery is fabulous. In the frame the imposing massif of Paine, the road seems to open up suspended over an enchanted kingdom, with spectacular and sudden ups and, between the lakes of varied color, now silver and green, now blue and blue. In some stretches the road is' natural bridge from one bank to another and seems to dive into the car and then re-emerge on the opposite bank. Green is a thousand shades, all brilliant. It seems to be in the Garden of Eden. The stop is steady. I can not just do without stopping, to capture the different views. Francisca also falls, although should be used. I retain from ask why. ... There is never tired of observing landscapes that are genuine works of Creation. In late afternoon we arrive at the Posada Rio Serrano, whose hall seems a tearoom of other times, a pseudo-noble, which contrasts with the simple rooms heated with wood stoves. After dinner we watch the sunset over Lake Pehoe. The road, now with the approaching shadows of the night, is crossed by capibara snappy and agile, the Patagonian hares. In front of the mountain of Paine, delicately painted pink that stands carved in the sky like a formidable fortress embattled towers and pinnacles of monstrous horns, wordless rest. The cold is' sharp and forces us to return. At bedtime, though, we provided the wood to feed the stove during the night, and c'intratteniamo to speak with the manager. Comfortably seated around the fireplace that warms and pleasantly scented the room, without television, radio it away from the world, in nature, alone with ourselves and our talk, I feel calm like few other times in life.
The day is dedicated to Gray Lake. After twenty miles we come to the luxurious hotel where you take reservations for the excursion. From here catch a glimpse of the iceberg already staccatisi from the glacier, the wind pushes up on shore. These very small iceberg prevent the boat that will lead up to the front of the glacier to get closer, so it is with a small inflatable boat that the transfer from the shore to the boat. Going up the lake and find no iceberg, they are all concentrated in the immediate vicinity of the glacier or the shore. When you turn off the engine, get out on deck and we are faced to the front of the glacier and the nunatak, the small rocky island that divides and for which the glacier is famous Gray. The height of the ice front is not great, but for this we are approaching almost touch. So close, we can only be crossed by continuous fiotti of adrenaline, although the observation of the pinnacles of crevasses and numerous color is more than enough to distract. An hour passes when the ship resumed the way back, but seems to have passed just five minutes time was the charm. All are offered on pisco with ice, ice of course, collected in cold waters of the lake. Along the road that runs along the Lake Sarmiento we pause to give a final tribute to Paine, a sort of farewell. It 'sad to part with that incredible affastellamento of dizzy heights that are lost now in the background like so many knives stuck in the clouds. The wind suddenly you plaque. I interpret it as a signal, a response to my reverent greeting. I find the moment to turn our backs and go back to the mountains by car. Nobody speaks. I believe that, like me, Mavi and Ila have known the place where I gladly spend the rest of life.