Patagonia by John Warburton-Lee

In a landscape sculpted by wind and ice, the Towers of Paine stand proud: blades of granite soaring six thousand feet into the Patagonian sky. There is wild and then there is Patagonia. This spectacularly remote region, tucked away at the foot of South America, is an eco-heaven of snow-capped mountains, sweeping ice fields, natural beech forests, crystal clear rivers and windswept pampas. Wildlife abounds, the fishing is superb and the air is so clear it has won awards. Patagonia is the new get-away-from-it-all destination for those wanting to play Charles Darwin meets Gerald Durrell but in five-star comfort.

The flight south from Santiago is stunning. At our cruising altitude of 30,000 feet I can see across the entire breadth of Chile: out of the left window the horizon is cluttered with the jagged line of Andean peaks that forms the border with Argentina; out of the right window the Pacific Ocean beats a harsh rhythm against a rugged coastline of sheer sided fjords and myriad islands. We fly above perfect conical volcanoes, glittering lakes and lush farmland as we pass over the Lake District before crossing the vast Patagonian ice cap, the largest ice-sheet outside the polar regions.

At Punta Arenas airport liveried vans are waiting to transport us to the Explora Lodge deep in the heart of Torres del Paine National Park, the jewel in Chile’s Patagonian crown. For six hours we speed through sensational country, looking out for dolphins in the Straits of Magellan, and rheas, South American ostriches, as we cross the Patagonian steppe. Forests of stunted trees alternate with broad valleys of fenced ranch land. Estancia houses stand isolated, islands in a sea of swaying grass. The landscape is seductively wild.

For a wilderness lodge, location is everything; Hotel Salto Chico, the Explora Lodge in Patagonia has it in spades. Set beside a roaring cataract, the lodge looks across a Tiffany-blue lake, to the Paine Massif, a towering array of spires and peaks laced together by knife edge ridges, whose coloured rock and snow covered flanks make it look as though it has been dipped in chocolate and dusted with icing sugar.

Inside, the lodge is bright, light and cosy. Highly polished wooden floors and panelled corridors give one the feeling of being on board a ship. Huge windows make the bedrooms an extension of the landscape. Even the bathrooms have a porthole so you can lie in the bath and gaze out at the view through the looking glass of your bedroom to the wilds beyond whilst idly topping up the hot-water with a casual flick of your toes.

Over drinks in the bar, Anne, the English Head Guide, outlines the range of activities on offer from short walks to a range of view-points; day-long hikes up into the mountains; horse rides on the pampas; boat trips to the glaciers; or wildlife viewing by vehicle all led by the Explora’s team of young and enthusiastic guides. At the lodge, there are saunas, jacuzzis, a heated swimming pool and an outdoor hot-tub for a spot of gentle pampering. Spoilt for choice, my week-long stay already appears too short.

On my first morning Anne leads a group of us on a short walk to the shore of Lago Grey. As we stroll along she tells me that she used to be a commercial illustrator in London, before escaping the rat race to come to the park with her boyfriend in 1995 to work as volunteer rangers. They have been here ever since.

We cross a swing bridge over the Grey River and make our way through a forest of mature southern Beech trees to a wide shingle beach. Gigantic icebergs clutter the edge of the lake, dwarfing us. They have calved off the Grey Glacier and been blown along the lake by the wind; weird, magical natural sculptures that emanate an eerie blue light from deep within them. A backdrop of mountains and glaciers, and condors soaring high overhead, make this the perfect antidote to the bustle of every day life. In place of the constant irritation of demanding telephones and relentless traffic noise, there is just the whispering of the wind and the lapping of waves against the beach.

Another day, driving through the park, we photograph the wildlife: Black-necked swans and Chilean flamingos feeding on the many tarns; huge flocks of upland geese settled on the grassland; and guanacos, a species of wild llama, posing on the hilltops. There are 105 species of birds in the park and mammals ranging from Andean foxes to pumas that only rarely venture down from their mountain lairs.

The lodge owners have bought a private ranch bordering the park where we are taken for a traditional Chilean barbecue or asado at the Quincho, a custom-built barbecue house. We quaff delicious Chilean cabernet sauvignon and nibble morsels of local cheese and smoked salmon whilst whole lamb carcasses sizzle on iron crosses over an open fire. Gauchos in berets and pantaloons slice off hunks of tender meat with their razor sharp knives onto our plates. Vegetarians may find it a bit reminiscent of scenes from the Spanish Inquisition but in South America they pride themselves on the quality of their meat and the carnivore is king.

After lunch saddled horses stand waiting for us. There is something impossibly romantic about riding alongside a gaucho in the wilds of Patagonia. Even I, a confirmed sceptic of horse-riding, find that I am enjoying myself enormously although I have a sneaking suspicion that the rise and fall of our guide’s shoulders has more to do with his inability to stop laughing at my somewhat undignified Don Quixote-esque riding position, than his own perfectly executed rising trot.

A week passes all too quickly. One is left with a kaleidoscope of images: a pair of crested cara cara perched in a tree in rich evening light; the hammering of a magellanic woodpecker; the brilliant flash of green as a flock of austral parakeets fly past; a horned owl perfectly camouflaged in a dense thicket; an Andean fox watching from the grass.

Two views encapsulate the Patagonian experience. Both require a long day’s hike over arduous terrain but compared to stalking in the Scottish highlands it is, after all, just a walk in a park. From a raised promontory at the end of Lago Grey you are greeted by a fantastic panorama: it is an ice-fest. Bergs float in the bay at the foot of the Grey Glacier, a great river of ice that cascades down from the Patagonian ice-field which extends all the way to the horizon and beyond for another 320 kilometres. The surface of the glacier is impossibly broken by crevasses; all about mountains claw their way towards the sky. This is landscape on a breath-taking scale.

I save the best to last. The walk to the Towers of Paine up the Ascensio Valley is one of the hardest. The final scramble up several hundred feet of scree leaves us panting hard and questioning whether that extra bottle of wine at dinner last night was such a good idea. Cresting the ridge, all the effort is instantly forgotten. Directly in front, the Towers of Paine loom over us. It is a dramatic stage; the three sheer faces of finely chiselled granite with tendrils of ice curling around their flanks defying all comers.

Wild, windswept and interesting, Patagonia recharges the most flattened of personal batteries with inspirational scenery and all the space in the world to enjoy it.