Filled with natural beauty and adventure, Patagonia is a place of ice attractions and open space. No journey to Argentina is complete without visiting this southernmost part of South America ... by Jeremy Jowell

The chill hint of autumn cuts through my clothes as I arrive at Buenos Aires domestic airport. Stepping out the taxi, I shiver in the dawn air. I need to get accustomed to cold weather as I’m heading way down south, to the windswept and icy region of Patagonia.
The Aerolinas Argentinas flight takes off and we fly over the South Atlantic Ocean. Three hours later, we start our descent for Ushuaia. Looking out my window, I catch my first sight of Tierra del Fuego, the extreme southern region of Patagonia.
Down below are jagged snowy peaks, their woody slopes covered in brilliant displays of autumn foliage. Long valleys are shrouded in mist and turquoise lakes glint in the sun. The American tourist sitting next to me seems to read my mind. “It really does look like the end of the world, doesn’t it?” he says peering around my shoulder.
Our aeroplane circles several times over the dramatic scenery. But I soon discover it’s not meant as a joyride. A thick mist is blanketing Ushuaia and the captain is having difficulty landing the plane.
We swoop down low and in zero visibility, hear our wheels touch the ground. “In America, a landing in these weather conditions is illegal and would never have been allowed”, says the visibly shaken tourist.
Widely promoted as the southernmost city in the world, Ushuaia is situated at the tip of Patagonia in Argentina. It is the gateway to Antarctica, and each year in the summer months between November and March, dozens of luxury cruise liners anchor in the harbour en route to the continent of ice.
Ushuaia is a picturesque city overlooked by a row of permanently snow-capped mountains. The busy thoroughfare of Avenida San Martin has all the trappings of a rich tourist town. Lining the street is clothing boutiques, hotels, souvenir shops, internet cafes, photographic outlets, casinos and jewellery stores.
Argentines take their food seriously and there are a wide variety of places to eat.
It’s difficult to walk far without being tempted into a café by the aromatic smell of brewing coffee and a sweet croissant. There are also pizza parlours, expensive seafood restaurants, ice cream shops and the carnivores delight - the parrilla - a steak house where one pays a set price and eats to your hearts content.
Ushuaia is a good base from which to explore southern Patagonia. This is adventure country with 4x4 excursions, glacier treks, canoeing and great hiking opportunities. Another enjoyable outing is a boat trip on the Beagle Channel, the waterway that links the Pacific and Atlantic oceans.
It’s late afternoon when we board the catamaran and an icy wind picks up as we set sail from the harbour. First stop is Bridge Island where we walk ashore to see the shell middens left over from the early Indian settlers. In mid channel, we stop at an outcrop of rocks where a colony of imperial cormorants have set up home. At another rocky island, sea lions squabble and fight while a group of penguins float motionless in the water.
The sun filters down in silvery streaks, highlighting the snowy mountains behind Ushuaia. Up on deck it’s freezing, but I cannot tear myself away from this beauty. We motor back to the harbour with the Argentine flag fluttering.
It’s another cold day on the southern tip of South America. I have woken early, hoping to take sunrise photographs of Ushuaia. But I look out the window to a grey overcast sky.
A lazy day passes as I stroll the streets, browsing the curio shops and drinking coffee at small cafes. I also catch up on e-mail and buy a floppy leather hat.
For nature lovers and hiking enthusiasts, a trip to Tierra del Fuego National Park is a must. The wind is whipping and a rainstorm threatens, so I wrap up warmly in a jersey, jacket, gloves and balaclava before venturing outside.
I catch the bus to the national park and set out on the Hito XXIV Trail that winds along the shores of Lago Roca. An icy chill drifts in off the water and I walk briskly to work up some heat. Even though it’s an overcast day, the subdued autumn colours are beautiful. Lush green moss grows in thick layers on trees. Mushrooms sprout on the root-strewn track and yellow leaves carpet the path. I inhale deeply, savouring the fresh fragrance of the forest.
I walk alone in silence, enjoying the tranquil sounds of nature. A tall tree trunk creaks. Birds sing out. Lago Roca laps gently on the shore. In some places the path is muddy after last night’s rain and I slip down several steep banks. Ninety minutes later, I reach the Chilean border where an ugly beacon covered in graffiti marks the international line.
The next day, after a breakfast of cornflakes, coffee and croissants, I set out on a 4x4 adventure to a glacial lake. Our guide Fernando is originally from Buenos Aires but moved to Ushuaia 11 years ago. “I love Buenos Aires, it’s a great city. But for what I want to do, I need mountains and nature, so Patagonia is the perfect place.”
We pass a large peat bog field that in winter is a venue for cross-country skiing and husky dog toboggan races. At the top of Garibaldi Pass, a few pockets of snow are still visible from an unseasonable snowstorm a few days back.
Rain starts to splatter down and tendrils of mist rise from the southern beech tree forest.
“The tree line here stops at 700 metres above sea level because higher than that, snow is ever present and the temperature is too cold for trees to survive,” explains Fernando.
Our route turns onto a pot-holed path and a weak sun breaks through, illuminating the colourful trees and lengai forests. We arrive at the shore of Lago Fagnano which up to 15 000 years ago, was one massive glacier. After a biscuit break, Fernando steers our Landrover up a steep path and along a track full of watery potholes. We battle through the squelching furrows and at times our vehicle is axle deep in mud.
Bumping down slippery slopes, we return to the lake, where I climb on to the roof carrier for an aerial view. For the next 10 kilometres, I bounce along as we traverse the shallows and rocky shore. In some places I’m forced to crouch low to avoid overhanging branches. After a barbecue lunch of rump steak and baked potatoes, we head back to the civilisation of Ushuaia.

The next stop on my Patagonian adventure is El Calafate, a small town surrounded by stark yellow mountains and a turquoise lake. El Calafate is the base for excursions to the famous Moreno Glacier, one of the few advancing glaciers in the world.
The temperature is below freezing when our bus leaves before sunrise and winds along the banks of Lago Argentino. The sky in the east slowly starts to lighten and overlooking a vast yellow plain, we stop to photograph the pink Patagonian dawn.
We enter the World Heritage Site of Los Glaciares National Park and drive through a valley formed by glacial movement millions of years ago. Then we arrive at the Moreno Glacier itself.
Just a month before I arrived here, a large section of the glacier collapsed. An event of this magnitude only occurs every 20 years and 15 000 people, including our guide Daniel Salinas, were here to witness this natural phenomenon,.
“It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” says Daniel. “After three days of minor collapses, an entire wall of ice fell down and the power created was unbelievable. For 30 minutes, it sounded like non-stop thunder, like a war with great bombs exploding.”
The Moreno Glacier measures 30 kilometres long and five kilometres wide. Sixty metres of ice rises straight up from the lake with a further 150 metres submerged in the freezing waters of the Canal de Los Témpanos.
We hike along the shoreline of Peninsula de Magallanes with spectacular views over the blue valley of ice. But being here is not just a visual experience. It’s also an auditory assault on one's senses. Great chunks of ice splinter and crack, crashing down into the water. Big bangs thunder and echo across the gorge.
We stop at several vantage points, each giving a new perspective to this shimmering white landscape. As a finale, we take a boat cruise for a ground level view of the glacier's north face. Standing on deck while sipping a glass of Bailey's coffee cream chilled with glacial ice is a perfect ending to the day.
Back in El Calafate, I stock up on chocolate and crackers before catching the bus to El Chalten, a tiny town in the Fitz Roy area. The Fitz Roy mountain range is a paradise for hikers with a wide range of walks, including glacier trekking and mountaineering.
I check into Albergue Rancho Grande and at 6am the next morning, our guide arrives for the trek to the Cerro Solle Glacier. Patagonia is infamous for its wind and as we venture out into the dark, an icy breeze chills me to the bone.
Our guide Rodrigo leads us up a steep mountain path and after walking briskly for ten minutes, I’m already starting to sweat. We stop to watch a crescent moon that plays hide-and-seek among shifting layers of clouds. Then the sun rises to illuminate the Cerro Solle Peak.
Two hours later we arrive at base camp where we are fitted with harnesses and issued crampons for the ice. Looking out to the mist-shrouded glacier, conditions are not promising. A heavy rainstorm is sweeping down from the mountain.
We reach Laguna Torre and feel the full force of the glacial wind. Gusting up to 60-km/h, it whips into us, carrying flakes of sleet and snow from the glacier. With the wind chill factor, the temperature is close to -15°C.
“It’s not going to happen today,” says Rodrigo, shaking his head. “This wind and rain makes trekking on the glacier very dangerous. We can try again tomorrow.”
We take an alternative route back and head along the Madre y Hidje Trail where wooded valleys are ablaze with the red, yellow and orange colours of autumn. Along the way, we pass blue lakes surrounded by snow-capped peaks.
After 11 hours and 35 kilometres, my thighs and feet ache with every step. Finally, freezing and dog-tired, I arrive back at the hotel and immediately wolf down some steaming bean soup and spaghetti bolognaise.
On my last morning I sleep in, enjoying the warmth of my bed while listening to a wild wind outside. I’m stiff from yesterday’s marathon so instead of another hike, I hire a mountain bike for a few hours.
After a few kilometres, I turn off the main road onto a forest track. Without cycling pants, my backside feels every stone on the path. I cycle on to Chorilla de Salto, a beautiful 15m waterfall. There’s no one else around and time flies as I immerse myself in photographing the nature.
Later on, I pack my bags and wait for the evening bus back to El Calafate. The sunset is an explosion of colours and the Patagonian sky seems on fire with swirls of pink candyfloss clouds. For a few magic moments, the last light of day touches the jagged Fitz Roy Peak.