Wind, Ice, and the Art of Plan B.
Days 54-55 – Stranded by Wind, Saved by Birds.
On Monday we were supposed to take the bus from Puerto Natales to El Calafate. We even set the alarm for 6:00 a.m., like responsible adults. And then… ping!
A message: all roads to El Calafate closed due to extreme winds.
Of course they were. With steady winds at 80 km/h and gusts hitting 130 km/h, even the buses said, “Absolutely not.”
The Argentinian authorities told everyone to stay home; apparently that included us.
So Monday became the glamorous activity known as: sitting on our suitcases, waiting for updates. Luckily, our lovely host let us stay another night and said she’d only charge us if we actually slept there. On the Argentina side, the lady at our next lodging said she wouldn’t charge us at all. See? The world is mostly made of good humans.
Finally, at 18:00, the verdict came in: no buses until Tuesday.
We arrived early the next morning, knowing the station would look like an evacuation scene from a disaster movie. We were right. It was packed.
But the bus company had their act together; they boarded all of Monday’s stranded souls first, then the Tuesday people. So instead of Monday at 8:00,
we left Tuesday at 9:00. Not terrible… except…
We had booked our rental car in El Calafate for Tuesday at 10:00. Yes. 10:00. As in one hour after the bus left… from another country. 😱🤦♀️
Thankfully, our superhero team at @TripsSouthAmerica, specifically the saint named Laura, called the rental agency and convinced them to hold the car until 15:00.
I may build her a shrine.
We finally rolled into El Calafate under clear skies (and wind, because Argentina believes in consistency). With a few hours to kill, we needed something doable.
Our original plan was out, so I found a nature reserve on the edge of town: Laguna Nimez, a bird sanctuary. Perfect for unwinding after two days of forced patience.
Now, I’m not exactly a “Bird Woman”, and honestly, after seeing condors, every other bird feels like a budget version, but I do love the idea of strolling around with big binoculars like I’m in National Geographic.
And you know what? It was lovely. Peaceful. A perfect decompression walk. Out of 140 bird species in the reserve, we proudly identified… about nine. Maybe. 😂😂
But the point was: we were finally moving again, breathing fresh air instead of recycled apartment or bus oxygen.
Tomorrow: the majestic Perito Moreno Glacier. Stick around… this one’s going to be spectacular.
Day 56 – Glacier Flirtations and Cold Rejections.
Some days revolve around a single place. A place so mind-blowing you just surrender and let it own the whole day.
Today, that place was the incomparable Perito Moreno Glacier.
We woke to a miracle: no wind. Not a breeze, not a whisper. Add no rain and even patches of blue sky (actual blue sky!), and we were basically giddy. After a breakfast worthy of a Patagonia fairy tale: eggs from the free-range chickens wandering our garden and homemade jam from the garden fruit, we headed to
Los Glaciares National Park.
The one-hour drive through the Patagonian steppe was a dream: lambs, cows, regal horses, mountains in the distance… and one fox who sprinted across the road
so fast he could’ve been the Road Runner’s stunt double. No photo. Just a memory.
Then came the glacier.
A cheerful ranger directed us to the parking and the minibuses that take you up to the system of catwalks: five different trails that offer every possible angle
on the glacier. But what everyone really wants is the soundtrack: the glacier cracking, roaring, and sending giant chunks tumbling into the water.
Perito Moreno is a diva. When she speaks, you freeze. Everyone freezes. Time stops. It’s pure hypnosis. We planned 3.5–4 hours to wander before heading back
down for lunch and our 14:30 boat ride to get even closer.
Arriving early was genius (thank you, Iguazú trauma). For the first two hours the place was heaven: quiet, spacious, intimate. We wandered, listened, gasped,
and watched entire blue towers of ice collapse into the lake. And then… the crowds arrived. Lots of them. The magic dimmed but never disappeared; we still
walked all the routes, just with a soundtrack of excited tourists.
By 13:30 we were back at the parking area and discovered a magical invention: a warm building with tables, chairs, and a microwave for people bringing their
own lunch. (Let’s be honest: probably meant for the park staff, but we all pretended not to notice.)
Lunch done, we headed to the port for our grand finale: the boat ride.
Except… the pier was blocked by free-floating icebergs roughly the size of mid-sized apartment buildings. The crew attempted to “persuade” them to move
by lassoing ropes around them and dragging them away. It was heroic, chaotic, and mostly unsuccessful. After 40 minutes of iceberg rodeo, the tour was cancelled.
Not the ending we hoped for… but hey, tomorrow is another day, and who knows, maybe the universe saved something even better for us.
Stick around.
