Canada to Patagonia at a Worrying Age

…is the Perito Moreno Glacier at the full moon.

Most people go in the day and there are a lot of them.  Our van had 3 locals, two Colombians, two French and us.  The driver (not a mate of the other bloke) stopped at an offy on the way having announced he had a cool box.  That was a night off the ale ruined.

We got to the glacier by some back road route and didn’t have to pay to get in the park – Adriano just nodded at some bloke in a hut.

First sight of the glacier is a bit ‘wow’, but the moon was still low in the sky on this clear night.  Once we got to it, however, the full majesty began to reveal itself.  You start off in a high car park and think it’s wonderful.  Then you hear the first thunderclap as a piece the size of a car falls off.  Then you get to the first viewing platform and wonder how the hell can I get a picture of this and crack open your first can of Quilmes.  Then you get to the second platform, the moonlight getting ever brighter, and you get the full panorama of the thing reflecting off the lake.

Eventually you walk the 400m to the closest platform and think ‘God, it’s big’.  Then you crack open your second Quilmes while the hippies pass round the wine (they’d left their bongos in the van, thankfully).  Then Adriano comes down and says, “Would you like to touch the ice?”  He didn’t need to ask me twice, although Cath was unsure until he uttered the magic words “It’s not allowed”

You get  to the glacier like this.  Get over a fence designed to stop such naughtiness.  Then get over a barbed wire fence, expressly there to prevent such madness.  Then walk through a forest and past a sign saying ‘Danger’.  A pictogram indicates a bloke having his head caved in by falling ice and another sign saying go no further.  Carry on through the forest and you hit the rock, the glacier only metres away.  You can hear the cracks of falling ice as you swiftly run to the face.  Then you hear them receding as you swiftly run away again when you realise those noises are incredibly close and that those white tumbling things are not exactly snowballs.

We got off the ice and sat on some rock near the ice filled lake and all chilled out and got spiritual.  But it wasn’t a third world beach and I wasn’t wearing spandex trousers.  So that’s OK.  We were there for quite some time and eventually I put a bit of Cafe del Mar on the MD.  Bloody great.  The moon was well high now and we were half a dozen people under the awesome sight of a (moving) towering glacier.  Astonishing.  Goosebumps as I write this…

So, forget the day trip.  If you come here, time it for a full moon and hope for a clear night.  I’ve got the tour guide’s email address.  Thanks Adriano.  I’ve made the solemn (stupid?) decision not to go in daylight as I want to remember what happened last night as my impression of the glacier.  Maybe I’ll come back one day.

Chill out time in the van on the way back, with a lot of fun (offer of a party – declined), no sleep and Redemption Song on the stereo, so that will do.  Home at 3.30am.  When will I get to sleep at night on this part of the trip?

PS – Poster advertising the trip was designed by a certain M Parry.  Evidence of the Welsh tribes of Patagonia, of which more in future.

Later read this in the Rough Guide…

“Once at the glacier do not stray from the boardwalks; as notices tell you, 32 people were killed by ice falls between 1968 and 1988, either being hit by lethal ricocheting chunks of ice or swept of the rocks into the freezing waters by the subsequent water surge.”  Oops.

Tags: Argentina, Travel

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