The Tale of Torres del Paine and The Wall
Long-term travel isn't always sunshine and rainbows!
Well, nearly more than four months after my intended arrival, I finally made it to Torres del Paine, the destination that you all selected as the start of my trip! (Does that mean all of my experiences up to this point don’t count?)
There are a number of reasons that my arrival in Chilean Patagonia was so delayed. The first issue was Chile’s COVID-related entry requirements, which prevented me from starting my trip in the country until the government verified all of my vaccines (which took longer than the five days I had between the surprise and my departure). Next, when I wanted to cross into the country from Argentina, all the land borders were closed. Then, when I finally did manage to enter Chile, high season in Patagonia was in full swing, so all of the Torres del Paine camping permits were fully booked for months.
And that, my friend, is how it took me until March 15th to finally reach my first destination. But the important thing is that I did indeed make it there!
So what did you do in Torres del Paine?
When you hike in Torres del Paine, most people do one of two multi-day treks: the W or the O. The W, so called because the trail looks remarkably like the shape of a W, takes 4-5 days, and is by far the most popular option, as it takes you to the park’s two biggest highlights, the giant Grey glacier as well as its namesake stone torres (towers). The O is an extension of the W, adding a semi-circle between the two open ends of the letter to form an 8-day circuit of 136km (85 miles).
With nothing but time to burn, I opted for the O.
Of course, I wasn’t alone for this particular journey. My friend Galen flew down from the US to join me for the Torres trek, and it was so nice to see a familiar face and have her infectious energy along for the adventure.
I’ve never done a trek anywhere near this length before, so I had a lot to learn, especially as it relates to carrying 8 days’ worth of food (which is heavy!). Apparently I was a quick learner, because other travelers were shocked at how small our backpacks were. Most of the credit goes to Galen though, because she brought fantastically small and light gear for us to use.
We were phenomenally lucky with the weather during our time in Torres del Paine. The park’s climate is infamously unpredictable, especially outside of the peak summer window in January/February, but we were blessed with seven beautiful days on our 8 day trek. The only downside is that the one rainy day we did have was the morning we hiked to the famous Torres to see the sunrise. As you can see in the photo below, no peaks or sunrise were visible, but we did have a nice emergency blanket to cuddle under.
My favorite part of hiking in Torres del Paine was the social experience on the trail. Since we were doing the O, our first three nights were spent camping with the exact same group of people. And since you are all cooking in very small permitted kitchen areas, you get to know each other quite quickly. Then, once the O meets the W for the final five days, you already have a group of friends and don’t get overwhelmed by trying to meet people at the much larger campsites.
Our crew on the trail was great. Galen and I got especially close with four German girls — Leo, Louise, Darja, and Berenice — and a French guy, Gaspard. Eight days is a really fun amount of time to spend in an intensive experience with people, because it allows you to dig deeper and share more stories than you normally can on the road. I really, really enjoyed my time with that wonderful group of people.
The second night of the trek was particularly memorable. If you’ve been reading all of my emails, then it shouldn’t come as a surprise that there was a big squad of Israelis hiking with us, and that night happened to be Purim, a Jewish holiday that I had previously never heard of. Galen is Jewish, so she asked if she could celebrate with them, and as a result Leo, Louise, and I got to tag along as well.
They shared a story in Hebrew (and kindly translated it into English for the four of us), we all booed every time the evil character’s name was said, and each chapter’s conclusion was celebrated with a mini shot out of water bottle caps. (They made clear to us that the shots were their own addition, not necessarily a traditional celebratory practice.) After the story was finished, we had a dance party in the kitchen area until the campground host came and shut us down (lame, but fair). It was super fun!
(Speaking of Jewish holidays, Happy Passover!)
Give us a hot take, Sean!
You want a hot take? Here’s one: Torres del Paine is beautiful, but I’m not sure why it’s so firmly lodged in the American public’s mind as the dream/ultimate trekking destination. I think they are just really good at marketing.
Don’t get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoyed my time trekking in the park; I loved the mountains, glaciers, and forests I encountered, and the people I met were even better. But in my view, the natural beauty was not anything greater than you can find on the Argentinian side of Patagonia, and the Chilean side is much more complicated and expensive. Also, if you are looking for a rustic or rugged trekking/camping experience, this isn’t it; you can charge your phones and buy WiFi at every campsite. You can even buy all of your meals along the way and stay in real beds if you want! (Though that would be super, super expensive, be warned.)
I also feel like many of the hiking experiences weren’t too far afield from ones you can have in the US. Like honestly, if you take out the one big glacier on the trek (which you hardly see if you are only hiking the W), then I would have believed you if you told me that I was in Olympic National Park in Washington.
To be clear: Torres del Paine is beautiful! And I really enjoyed my experience there, so once again thank you so much for sending me. But just wanted to share that food for thought when you are thinking about your own travels. (A lot of people would disagree with me, to be clear.)
After my time in Torres del Paine, I headed up to Puerto Varas, a very picturesque town in Chile’s Lake District. I first learned of its existence on The Amazing Race, and I was not disappointed by the prominent volcanic view from town.
I had a tentative plan lined up to spend a few more weeks in the Lake District, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I wasn’t excited about it — I was just going to do it because I was already there and felt like I was supposed to visit those places. And if my Bolivia experience taught me anything, it’s that I should follow what excites me.
As a result, I ended up taking a last-minute flight to Colombia!
Ooo, what’s Colombia like?
I’ve now been in the country for about two and a half weeks, and I have really liked it so far. I’ll wait until whenever I write next to share more details about what I’ve been up to, but I will tease that the highlight so far has certainly been learning to scuba dive. It’s truly like visiting another planet, I cannot recommend it enough.
The one general thing I will say about my time in Colombia so far though: unlike the rest of the countries I’ve visited so far on this trip, this place is crawling with foreign travelers. Whereas I often had to proactively seek English-speaking opportunities in Argentina, Uruguay, and Bolivia, I have to go out of my way to speak Spanish here.
I shouldn’t be too surprised — Colombia is at the heart of the Latin American backpacking trail. It’s a natural starting or ending point for anyone looking to take a trip through either Central America or South America. (As a random interesting data point, I’ve met a lot more people here doing the Central America route than South America.) Plus, everyone who goes to Colombia raves about it to fellow travelers, so it’s no surprise that so many people end up here.
As a perfect illustration of how central Colombia is to the Latin America backpacking world, I’ve already reconnected with a few friends that I met earlier in my trip. Remember Hannah and Malte, the German couple that I traveled with for a couple weeks in Argentina? We crossed paths for a day in Bogotá and grabbed coffee!
Then, not even a week later, I happened to be in Santa Marta at the same time as Fabian, my German friend that I spent nearly a month with in Argentina. I forgot to take a picture of both of the reunions, but I promise that they happened. I also ran into that Israeli girl who gave Noa and I beds for Carnaval in Bolivia, though both of us had to admit that we didn’t remember each other’s names. I now know that her name is Maya, in case you were curious!
It was an interesting moment to reunite with Hannah, Malte, and Fabian, as all three of them are now at the very end of their own grand adventures (I believe it was 7 months for Hannah and Malte, 1 year for Fabian. Living proof that everyone seems to start or end in Colombia!). Their feelings about their trips’ impending conclusion were remarkably similar — they are grateful for the memories and will cherish them, but they are ready and excited to head home.
After these reunions, I’ve been thinking a lot about my own trip, too. Specifically, I’ve been thinking about two conversations I had before my adventure with friends who had previously embarked on long-term journeys of their own.
I met my friends Luke and Davis in Istanbul back in June 2018. We shared the same hostel, and when Lizzie joined the trip, we were able to convince them (as well as an Australian named Hayden) to ditch their dreams of Greece so that they could follow us through Turkey and Georgia instead.
Luke and Davis are both unique among American travelers because they took a trip that lasted longer than a month. How unique, you may ask? Let me put it this way: I have met thousands of travelers over the past five months, and I wouldn’t even need all of my fingers to count the number of Americans I’ve encountered who are planning to be on the road for more than a month.
(I have a lot more to say about how the US culturally views travel vs. the perspective from the rest of the world, but I’ll save that for another time.)
Anyway, the point of that digression is to say that both Luke and Davis know what it’s like to be on the road for a long time (10 months for Luke, 6 years for Davis). And before I left on my journey, they both shared their thoughts on the hardships I likely had ahead of me on a long-term trip.
Luke’s biggest warning for me was about The Wall. Basically, he said that in his experience, most long-term travelers just hit a wall around five or six months into their trip. They aren’t as excited about meeting new people and they aren’t fully enjoying the places they’re experiencing. In short, they’re tired.
Well, I’ve officially been on the road for five months, and I’ve also officially hit The Wall.
For me, the fatigue has been equal parts physical and mental. Physically, I have just been pushing my body too hard over the past couple weeks given my specific context of having some stomach problems after a string of nearly sleepless nights. Mentally, the fatigue is related to a topic that Davis and I talked about before I started this journey.
Davis shared his wisdom with me over some Kenyan food during my last week in Seattle. My favorite tip he gave me is to never waste initial eye contact in a hostel — even if all you do is smile, it makes breaking the ice so much easier later on. It is honestly such good advice.
More related to long-term travel fatigue, he also spoke of his emotional experience on the road, specifically how he occasionally found himself really craving companionship. I now really understand what he meant.
You meet so many people when you are traveling — I wasn’t exaggerating earlier when I said that I’ve met thousands — and 99% of them are wonderful. But 99% of them also never get very far past the standard set of introductory travel questions: Where are you from? How long are you traveling for? Where have you been? Where are you going?
Personally, though, I’m struggling less with a lack of companionship on the road and struggling more with feeling less connected with the people I care about back home. There was a particular day in Bogotá where this fact really hit home with me. I had a few conversations with friends throughout the day and learned some really big updates about their lives — months after they had occurred. Perhaps that doesn’t seem too outrageous to you, but as someone who prioritizes my friendships above virtually everything else in my life, it was a pretty jarring moment.
So what am I going to do from here? Well, first of all I’m going to take it easy for a few days — I think I’m likely to skip a few destinations and instead chill here in Minca, a nice mountain jungle town. I’m also very excited about the month ahead of me, because I’m going to have a stream of friendly faces venturing down to Colombia! I’ll get to see my friends Emily and Kevin in Cartagena, then Michelle in Medellin (with a scuba-inspired trip to Colombia’s Caribbean island enclave of San Andres in between).
I’m optimistic about the road ahead, but I also want to ask you for your help. These emails I send are a one-way mirror — you gain a decently clear picture of what’s going on in my life, but I can’t see anything in the other direction, and I want to feel more connected to you.
My request to you: Please reach out and let me know what’s going on in your life! Have you made any big decisions lately, or tried something new? What’s something that’s been on your mind? What has been a recent moment where you felt content? Tell me a story or two!
Please don’t feel like you have to send a long essay, but please do consider sending something, whether over text, Facebook, or just by responding to this email. I miss you and I want to hear about your life!
What I’m reading and listening to
What I’ve read since I last wrote: I’ve really been slowing down on my reading!
Nothing to See Here by Kevin Wilson (Thank you Ellie!!)
No Filter by Sarah Frier (Thanks Edgard, very interesting!)
What I’m reading right now: Even Silence Has An End by Ingrid Betancourt (Thanks Alex, very relevant to Colombia!) and Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir (Thanks Kate, I just started it tonight and am already devouring it. I love Andy Weir!)
Song from the shared Spotify playlist that I’ve been thinking about: It’s not on the playlist, but there is this hostel/bar/club in Santa Marta, Colombia that for some reason is obsessed with “Titanium” by David Guetta and Sia… They play it multiple times per night!
Want to contribute to my bookshelf or shared playlist? It’s not too late! Here are the links:
Spotify:
Bookshelf:
https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1HkLwGTZVGe_uWcxAWqdS0qy185QDi82RTobO1KyWx50/edit?usp=sharing