Carretera Austral - Part 2

At half time in the trip down the Carretera Austral the score was Weather 3 - 1 Simon&Simon. It was not looking good for the boys from Europe until they pulled off an ambitious ascent of Cerro Castillo, to be rewarded with spectacular views and an extra-time glacier lake.

We had come from Coyhaique, the regional capital, which was little more than a place to stop off and get some provisions. There are no camping grounds but we managed to persuade one of the hostel owners to let us camp in their garden - another $2 saved! Even though Coyhaique is a big town, it is still in the middle of some beautiful countryside. I will never get bored of this.

The next morning we arrived in the tiny village of Villa Cerro Castillo, a one-road group of huts named after the striking Cerro Castillo (Castle Hill). It may be called a hill, but its jagged, spiny peaks stand at over 1,600m above sea level, and spend the whole year covered in snow.

The first thing we did was hit the information centre. The guy told us there were two routes, a 5hr hike without signs (not recommended) and a 7hr hike with signs. Those times are one-way, making the signed trail a two-day hike for most people. I decided that we would be fast enough to do the long hike in one day.

The day can only be described as epic - and not really in a good way. We set off at a blistering pace and got to the quarter point in good time. We then marched through the forest, which was largely uphill, until the halfway point. At this stage Simon had realised that he doesn't like hiking as much as I do and decided to stroll back to the campsite.

Time was running out so I practically jogged the next hour. Then disaster struck. I looked at the map (actually, a picture I had taken of a map) and realised that I had taken a different trail, walking 3km in the wrong direction. There was definitely no time to turn back and correct the mistake. There was only one thing for it - I left the trail, pointed myself uphill and crashed through the forest trying to clear the treeline.

I regretted this decision almost immediately. There was no way I'd find my way back to the trail I'd just left, and if I didn't find the other trail I'd be spending a night on the mountain. Then the weather decided to punish me for being foolish - it started snowing.

The only choice was to go for the top, where I would hopefully be able to see the trailmarkers and get on the right track. Unfortunately, a mountain stood in my way. I bashed through the forest, walked through snow and climbed some seriously huge rocks before popping out above the treeline.

It was another hour of hard climb to the top of the mountain, where I expected to see the glacial lake that the trail runs past. When I finally got to the top, the snow was so bad that I couldn't anything. At this point I really thought I'd be spending a night on the top of the mountain, probably consigning myself to death by ice. There was no use worrying about it so I took a guess, scrambled down and looked around. Suddenly, a speck of red caught my eye - it was a trailmarker! I have never been so happy to see a steel pole in my life.

Now I would be rewarded by the classic view of the famous jagged peaks! In fact, all I could see was a big snowcloud. Words cannot describe my disappointment.

After a sorry three hour climb down the short route I got back to the tent just to see the sun go down.

The next day myself and Simon woke up to perfectly clear skies. We immediately decided that we weren't going to let the mountain beat us. We'd stay another day and have another go. We were accompanied by a hilarious dog, who entertained us by constantly barking at animals that were bigger than him and running away when they got annoyed.

The conditions were perfect on the way up and we had some lovely views down the valley and over to Argentina.

By the time we got to the top our legs were next to useless but nobody cared - we were greeted by a beautiful glacial lake, icebergs bobbing around, and the odd icefall from the hanging glacier above.

Our spirits had been so lifted that we ambitiously decided to try to hitchhike the 118km to Puerto Rio Tranquilo, our next destination. I had taken the strategy of cheerfully saying hola! to everybody and it paid off when a guy I'd met in the local shop offered us a lift. It was freezing as we sped along in the back of the pickup until the guy's dog decided to sit on me, providing extra warmth.

We were taken 40km of the way. When the guy picked us up I had thought that the whole journey was 60km, so we could walk the last 20km if needs be. When we realised that there was another 78km to go Simon looked like he was going to kick me, so I got walking. After many failed hitchhiking attempts we came across an English guy on a bicycle going the opposite way. I am convinced it was the fact that he was wearing a neon orange shirt - the next car that came past stopped and picked us up. The driver even was going all the way to Puerto Rio Tranquilo - un-named English cyclist, you are my hero.

There is one reason to visit Puerto Rio Tranquilo - Las Cavernas de Marmol, the marble caves. Over millions of years, the ice-laden waters of the Rio Tranquilo have carved these amazing caves out of the solid rock.

The colours are so vivid and range from deep-blue to ice-white, with everything in between.

We took a boat tour through the caves and were pretty impressed with the captains skill at navigating into the tiniest of spaces.

There were three others on the boat. A girl from Chile and guys from Canada and Austria. Christian, the Austrian guy, had a car and offered to drive us the 5km back to the village. The only catch was that he was driving to a few lookout points first - this was music to our ears so we jumped in!

On the way back, his car started making a funny noise. It turned out a metal guard had broken and was hanging down, banging across the road. There was only one thing to do - find a massive stick and try to snap it off.

It turned out the really big stick was a part of some one's fence. They did not look impressed. Anyway, after some bending and bashing the metal plate broke off - success!

That was the end of our adventure across the Carretera Austral. We took a bus to the border town of Chile Chico and crossed the border. We were completely screwed over by a Japanese girl who assured us that the distance between the Chilean and Argentinian immigration stations was only one kilometer. It turned out to be 7km and took over an hour- which we walked with all our stuff. To add insult to injury, she overtook us in a taxi halfway along the road. Japanese backpackers have gone down in my estimations.

So I'm back in Argentina! The town of Los Antiguos to be precise. Next stop is the hikers paradise of El Chaltean. Chao for now!

Sitting by the glacial lake at the top of Cerro Castillo I feel a bit peckish so chow down on some genuine glacial ice.

The campground had two little puppies. I spent all my free time teaching them circus tricks. They responded by trying to eat my left shoe.

The trees are alive!