Steven Callas

I crossed into Chilean Patagonia from Punta Arenas, taking the three-hour drive north to Puerto Natales. The road narrowed as the landscape opened. Windblown plains, turquoise lakes, and jagged peaks filled the horizon in every direction. I had arranged a private transfer in advance through my lodge, and by the time we reached the outskirts of Torres del Paine National Park, the road had turned to gravel and the sky had begun to shift. 

My base for the next four nights was Awasi Patagonia, a Relais & Châteaux property with just fourteen private villas spaced along the hills outside the park. Each villa has its own fireplace, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a personal guide and 4x4 vehicle assigned for the entire stay. I arrived late afternoon and was greeted with a glass of Carménère by the fire. The manager walked me through a suggested itinerary for the coming days, but everything remained flexible. The weather controls the pacing here more than the clock does. 

First Full Day in the Park 

The next morning, my guide Tomas picked me up at 8:30. We drove east through the park and stopped frequently along the way—guanacos, condors, and a distant puma sighting. We reached Lago Nordenskjöld before noon, with the Cuernos del Paine rising behind it. Tomas had packed a full picnic, and we set it out on a sheltered hilltop. Roast chicken, fresh bread, cheese from Puerto Natales, and a thermos of maté. 

In the afternoon, we took the short hike to Salto Grande, a waterfall that feeds into the lake. The wind was strong, but the trail was manageable, and there were only a few other hikers. Patagonia in March is quieter than in peak season, and it felt like the park was mostly ours. Back at the lodge, I spent the early evening in the main lodge bar, then sat down for a slow dinner of seared guanaco loin and a warm chocolate tart made with local berries. 

Off the Trail and Into Estancia Country 

On the second full day, we stayed outside the national park and drove south toward Estancia Cerro Guido, one of the region’s historic sheep ranches. I met a local gaucho who introduced me to the dogs, horses, and shearing facilities that still operate today. We walked a short loop near the cliffs overlooking the valley, and then had lunch in the ranch’s old dining room, served on blue-and-white china with hand-embroidered linen napkins. 

That evening, back at Awasi, I booked a massage in the villa. The therapist arrived just after sunset. They use unscented oils and thick alpaca wool blankets. The room stayed warm from the wood-burning stove, and afterward I sat in the reading chair with a glass of Malbec, listening to the wind move through the lenga trees outside. 

Lago Grey and the Glacier 

On the final full day, we drove west to Lago Grey and took the boat to the glacier. The weather held. The boat carried fewer than twenty passengers, and the guides were clear and well-informed without being theatrical. We passed icebergs, sharp blue and cracked white, some of them larger than the vessel itself. The glacier came into view slowly. The front wall is jagged and uneven, but still. When a piece calved off into the lake, it echoed like a distant gunshot. 

On the ride back, the sun broke through and lit up the mountains from behind. I stood outside on the back deck, zipped into a borrowed windbreaker and holding onto the railing. That moment stayed with me more than any single view. 

Dinner that night was grilled Patagonian lamb with chimichurri, a salad of bitter greens and apple, and a glass of Syrah from the Colchagua Valley. The staff at Awasi had packed my luggage for me already. I spent the last hour of the night by the fire, talking with a couple from Canada who had come from the Atacama Desert the week before. 

Final Notes 

Patagonia is less about sightseeing and more about space. It gives you a scale that resets your sense of time. With the right lodge and the right guide, you move quietly through one of the most visually dramatic regions in the world without needing to chase it. Everything is built around flexibility, comfort, and being present to the land.