El Chalten... few hours from El Calafate and we arrive in the young town that is celebrating its 25th birthday this year! Built by the Argentinians, in a hurry, before Chile claimed it! It lays at the foot of Fitz Roy Mountain and is set in the national park. A small town, though a bit bigger than imagined. Away from civilisation, but has by now most amenities! A cashpoint was installed in the last year, though whether it works is hit and miss, whilst the bus station only opened in Dec 09. In the guide book it also mentions it planned to open a cemetry. I dont know whether they had, whether anyone had died in the town yet... but there was no sign of it as far as I could see!

We arrived mid afternoon, to warm but blustery weather. It was very hard to stand still let alone walk in a straight line, whilst the grit got to you at times, hence being well covered up! Having arrived, we went to the hostel that Sam had enquired with the day before. They had room, but wanted us to contact them to book by phone, but we hadnt. So, on arriving, they only had one bed left! They in fairness rang around other hostels and after a while, found one with beds for 2 people. The lady did say `we might not like it`! Oh.. we thought! But, it was at least a bed for the night!

We arrived there and it wasnt too bad. The rooms were tiny, no storage space or anywhere to lock anything away. The bathroom was ok, but the kitchen was in need of a little assistance! It wasnt great, neither was the communal eating/living area... whilst, as in Sams words... it was more suited to the `free spirited`! Given that when Sam put a stale piece of bread in the bin, she found one of the residents picking it back out!!! Aargh!! We decided to stay the night (well, we had to), but go back to the other place to book the following 2 nights!

In fairness, I had a better night sleep at the original hostel... and one thing I did notice was the silence (once it hit midnight!)... no traffic noise or any noise from outside! The ´better´hostel we went to had some noise, given some boiler type thing was humming in the bedroom.

That first afternoon, we decided to head for a short walk, or should I say trek. A trip up the mountain for better views of the mountains and glaciers along with the town. It was very beautiful. Then onto another route for some lake views. Bliss and at some points we were sheltered from the wind.

The next day was a lovely and sunny still day, so we headed on a 22km round trip up to one of the Lakes (Torre I believe). A trek that would take us up to 350m high into the mountains. It was a lovely walk, though long! There were some steep slopes, but then kilometres of flat terrain, through forests and a valley. We could hear the river at points down below and from time to time, would lose sight of the moutain and glaciers, as we were approaching them. The terrain was wonderful and diverse. Trees were either lush green or looked dead! (Something I have noticed often and yet to find out why, whether its the weather or some plague thats killed them). The path would vary, from stony ground, to soil, to a path that seemed to be made of chips of slate. Care was needed with lumps of rock across the path and in particular tree roots that would stick out from the ground.

We stopped at a couple of view points, to take in the scenery and take some snap shots. After a few hours, we got to our destination. Glacier Grande and the Lake. Set up in rocky landscape, with snow capped hills looking over it. Very picturesque. Bits of ice floated on the lake, or should they be called icebergs! It was peaceful, sunny and dry.. bliss! After a while of admiring the lake and glacier, and having a spot of lunch, we headed back down. We took another route down and then realised how high we were and how close to the cliff´s edge! Getting back seemed a long trek! Feet, knees and legs a bit achy by this point! It was only on descending into the town I realised it wasnt as small as I thought, and was a bit disorientated. I found some key buildings, headed back to the area I knew and stopped for a glass of wine! I slept well that night!!!

Next day, I wasnt too bad, I expected to be stiff as a poker! I had a leisurely day, as it happens it was a bit overcast and we couldnt see the mountains from the town, so was glad to have done the treks the days previously. I met up with Sam, Tom and Clare (whom I met in El Calafate) and stopped for a hot chocolate at a Waffleria. I opted for a piece of cake, whilst the waffles the others had looked delicious! They had in fairness attempted a walk that day, but returned given the drizzly weather!

Later that afternoon, I stop off in an internet cafe in the town, and was surprised to find that Facebook was defaulted to the welsh language, its usually spanish here, or sometimes english, depending who has been on it!

The days we spent in El Chalten also coincided with a Trekking festival that was taking place from 17-20th March. A festival to commemorate the first ever person climbing the Fitz Roy on 18 March 188= something, though I hear that that has been debated! Apparentlly the guy was Italian, whilst some years later, some Italians did come over to conquer Fitz Roy! Its a very steep mountain, rather them than me.... and I do wonder, what does possess one to do such a thing!!! :o)

As I mentioned, there was a festival and with that, bands played in the evening! I popped along to the town hall on my last evening to check it out and it was a delight! I think I missed the dancers, given I saw girls in similar skirts, but the band was fantastic. It kind of reminded me of Dafydd Iwan, Ar Log, a celtic band... on speed... the atmosphere of the Cnapan many moons ago! Many varied intruments and very lively singers and instrumentalists!!

El Chalten is a gem of a town and well worth a visit. Some people camp, but I prefered the hosteling option. It was bad enough trekking up the mountain with only my small bag and lunch, never mind hiking up with camping gear too. I met a couple of guys as I was heading down. They had only been heading up an hour or so and there was at least another 2 hours ahead of them, and they were off to camp! One was sweating buckets and the other didnt seem to have a droplet of sweat. An aussie and an englighman. The english guy studied in Cardiff and was from Somerset. It was the aussie bless him that was suffering the most! After a brief ´howdy´, I let them get on with their climb.

The next day, I was heading to Esquel... part of Welsh Patagonia. After some deliberation, I opted to make the journey via Ruta 40!!!!!