[008] The O Trek, Torres Del Paine
I'm travelling in South America. Here's what I'm up to, some photos and other bits
The start of the O Trek is like Glastonbury. People wrestle with backpacks and fret if they’re on the right bus. People should be excited but they look slightly anxious. Questions are circling their minds. Do I really need 10 packs of instant noodles? Are these £5 Regatta waterproof pants actually a piece of shit? Will the park rangers find the bag of pills hidden in my butt?
Then people settle in and start talking to their neighbours. Which camps do you have booked? Are you doing the O Trek or the W Trek?
There is a funny subtly acknowledged hierarchy. The W is a popular 3-4 day walk in and out of the most picturesque valleys of Torres del Paine National Park (in the shape of a W), and the O circles anti-clockwise around the back of the mountains before joining the W, taking 6-8 days in total. I strapped in for the O with 7 days of food and a tent on my back.
 |
 |
 |
The scenery was gorgeous. There was every season in one day and many landscapes in one small area - it felt like middle earth. The trek started in a gentle meadow filled with wild horses and black-faced ibises. I walked against the glacial blue river flowing wide and strong but silent, and I sat on the bank and watched the swallows dance and pick off flies.
On a wet and humid day three we climbed through forest and the river turned narrow and violent. It rained through the night and on day four we left camp in darkness to climb over the highest pass of the walk. The rain turned to snow as we rose. At the summit it was cold and I couldn’t feel my fingers. Then we started the long descent beside Glacier Grey.
 |
 |
 |
I’d wanted to walk alone and did so for the first three days. I didn’t want to feel rushed along the path or held back, and time in silence is good to clear the head. This came quickly, the only thing my brain focused on was which rock to put my foot on next, and why did Marvin Gaye include the line ‘ain't no valley low enough’ - how could a valley be too low to walk across? Answers on a postcard please.
But the allure of companionship is a little strong. I was recruited into a first rate gang when we summitted the day four pass, and I was happy for the company. Our group was a solid combination of a German poker player, a Dutch geography enthusiast, and an ice-fishing volleyball player from Minnesota.
It’s special how a shared challenge can create such closeness. I knew these people for two days and only the basics of their lives, but it felt sad breaking ties on a sunny day five as me and my German mate carried on to crack the back of the W. The final two days were tough. I was hungry, I’d run out of good food and my knees were knackered. I had blisters inside my blisters. I became less present and more agitated, focusing on finishing the walk and getting the the end.
But we did it, and the results were so rewarding. We went inside the tall valleys and soaked in the most sublime views of the walk.
 |
 |
 |
I didn't use my phone all week which was special and strange. Near the end I had anxious thoughts. What if my family or friend was in an accident? (but surely they could find me on the trek, and what impact could I make anyway?). Or what if there was some major world event e.g. ant infestation in London? (but others coming fresh onto the trek would talk, and knowing didn't matter).
Now it's not realistic to live to this extreme, but it’s reassuring to know the world keeps turning and people will get by without you. I'd like to take this mindset into the every day. Not to check my phone. Not to be constantly plugged into the news cycle. To respond to someone's message when I feel good to do so.
I devoured a giant sandwich before my bus out of the park, then I limped through Puerto Natales to my guesthouse. There was music on the streets, and it sounded so beautiful after a week of none. A tinny version of Fascination by Alphabeat escaped through the window of a kiosco, and a busker absolutely nailed Tears Dry by Amy Winehouse from her spot on the street corner.
Back in my ramshackle room I prepared to re-enter a world filled with people not walkers. I confined my stinky clothes to a dry bag and cut a big Compeed into little toe shaped Compeeds with my knife. More music floated up through the thin floorboards from the restaurant below. First a live pair playing a country song on acoustic guitar and harmonica, then The Coors, The Verve, Courtney Barnett. It sounded real good.
I’m back in Argentina now visiting El Calafate and El Chalten, taking things a bit slow.
Go well
George x
