Although the first part of our 28 hour bus journey from Bariloche to El Calafate was rather pleasant, we endured a testing final straight after waking up in the southern city of Rio Gallegos.

Despite there being nothing really worth seeing in the area, the bus terminal is somewhat of a transfer hub for most of the services running through Patagonia; the fact that we had done a massive detour to get from Bariloche to El Chalten via the city is testament to that. Seriously, look it up on a map; it's so out of the way.

Anyway, a few local idiots embarked onto the bus and sat in the seats directly in front of us, reclining them to the maximum position, while being rather loud and omitting a stench that could only be described as a mixture of stale smoke and unwashed armpits.

Fortunately, we survived the trip without regurgitating the contents of our beige bus meals (or succumbing to the murderous urges) and reached our destination in early afternoon. It was actually a bit of a surprise when we did arrive, as we'd travelled through hours upon hours of Patagonian desert and then all of a sudden we were in a rather sizeable town.

Our stay in El Calafate and El Chalten was to be broken up into three parts: One night in El Calafate followed by six nights in El Chalten and then a further three nights back in the former. We chose to do it this way as we just wanted to hold up in one place for an extended period, rather than having to unpack and then repack our bags every few days, which, as any traveller will tell you, can become rather exhausting.

So, having dropped our bags off and washed up at the rather comfy and cosy Hostel Del Glacier, we headed into the town to spy out some things to do on our return and stopped for some pizza at a busy restaurant. Unfortunately, we made the rookie mistake of sitting outside and within no time, we were surrounded by six street dogs all vying for a piece of our dinner and all with different tactics. Needless to say, Anne was in her element.

Hikes, lakes and beers

The following day, we made the short bus trip to El Chalten and after being given a talk by the Park Ranger, we planned our week or so according to his recommendations and the weather forecast.

As we arrived late afternoon, we decided to stretch our legs and complete the 1 hour taster walk up to Mirador de los Condores (Condors Lookout). We reached the summit in time to watch the sunset over the mountains surrounding the town, whilst sipping on some newly purchased 'hiking whisky'.

The next few days were spent completing the other main walks on offer, with a rest day in between each. The first was to Laguna De Los Tres (Three Lake / Lake of the Three / Something about a lake and the number three): This was a 6-7 hour return journey (so about 3 hours each way with an hour for lunch). Aside from a slight incline to begin with, the first three quarters are relatively level and lure you into a false sense of security for when you meet the death climb.

At parts, the steep uphill climb on loose terrain was about a 60 degree angle, so there was a bit of scrambling required in order to make it to the top. When we eventually did, we were rewarded with a close up view of Mt. Fitz Roy and its adjoining two peaks all sitting pretty on top of the deep blue lake. On the other side were panoramic views that stretched as far as Lago Viedma to the south (a lake that is not too far off the size of Greater Manchester).

Our second walk was the comparatively easy 5 hour return trek to Laguna Torre (Tower Lake). Again, there was a slight incline at the beginning, but fortunately there were no steep ascents to contend with at the end; just an easy flat path to the lake. Despite managing to snap some extremely picturesque photos of the autumn forests and icebergs in the lake, the views simply didn't measure up to the previous walk. That's not to say that they weren't stunning, but if I were to recommend an order, then I'd probably say do it the opposite way to us.

Our final walk was the hour and a half return to the waterfalls down the road from the village. They're definitely worth the short hike, but they can be missed if you're pushed for time.

Down time in the village was mostly spent enjoying the offerings of the local micro-brewery La Cervecearia, a quaint pub/restaurant that brew their own pilsner and stout onsite. We had got friendly with a great Canadian couple from Toronto called Kevin and Maggi and shared dinner with them in La Cerveria on two separate nights. They're both in the finance industry but have taken a break from work to travel firstly in South America and then onto Australia and Asia.

Put the trekking on ice

Our final day in El Chalten was to be spent trekking on the Viedma Glacier, located at one side of the aforementioned Lago Viedma. Being able to actually step onto the ice is dependent on weather conditions and as we found out after a two-hour bus and ferry ride, it can often be cancelled.

The reason for the scrapping of our particular trip was that the lake was too choppy and as such, the ferry couldn't get too close to the docking point - a plank of wood set across some low-lying rocks - for fear of damaging the vessel.

Therefore, we were taken in front of the glacier in order to take the necessary pictures and the rather subdued crowd of 20 or so were then transported back to our shuttle-bus to return us to El Chalten.

All-in-all, it was a rather disappointing morning, made even worse thanks to an American chatterbox who looked like a cross between John Lovitz and Mick Hucknall, and sounded like the really boring teacher from Ferris Bueller's Day Off (Bueller? Bueller?).

Jock Lovnall, as I'll refer to him as, didn't shut up for the entirety of both bus journeys and the two hours on the ferry, telling a rather uninterested couple mind-numbingly boring anecdotes.

He was one of those really annoying 'think-they-know-it-all-but-actually-know-f***-all' show-offs. You know, the type that claim to have seen the real Asia, because they'd spent a week in-between the full-moon parties of Koh Phangan and downing buckets of local whisky in Phuket.

To put it bluntly, he was an absolute bell-end.

Back in El Chalten, we were advised that we'd receive half of our money back from the tour operator for not being able to set foot on the ice and were directed back to our booking agent to claim it. However, I'm not sure that the proper message was relayed onto them, as they proceeded to give us a full refund.

Feeling somewhat delighted that we had got a free boat trip to a glacier, we hurried back to our hostel and spent the remainder of our time keeping a low profile; we were sure that they'd be on the lookout for us once they'd realised their error.

Baa baa, baa baa baa. Baa baa baa baa. Baa.

After bumping into a girl that we'd met at our extravagant dinner in Mendoza (I've always said that travelling is incestuous), we took the bus back to El Calafate the next morning and booked into ice-trekking on the Perito Moreno glacier for a couple of days' time.

The Perito Moreno glacier is one of the spectacles in the area: Covering almost 20 miles in length, it is one of only three Patagonian glaciers that is actually growing and therefore, ice is constantly collapsing from the rupture zone where it meets the lake.

Although we had wanted to see Perito Moreno, we had chosen Viedma for the ice-trekking purely because it was the lesser known and therefore quieter of the two, meaning that we could avoid the dreaded 'sheep-herding' that comes with the more famous attractions.

As we had lucked out with our chosen location, we decided to opt for the big brother instead; unfortunately, our shepherding suspicions were once again realised on the day.

After being ushered onto the crowded bus in the morning and taken into the National Park, we were then greeted by our 'guide'. At this point, it transpired that we were the only English speakers on that particular tour and so when he repeated everything to us, we had the 60 or so Spanish speakers all staring at us as well.

Anyone who knows me knows that I don't deal well with unnecessary attention and so I started going into my shell a bit; or to say it as it is, I was a complete grumpy arse.

I perked up a bit when we were allowed to freely roam around the balconies offering spectacular views of the rupture zone and the intermittent crumbling ice crashing down into the lake, but once back at the meeting point, and after getting bumped into by the hordes of other sheep being steered into their respective pens, I once again reverted to Captain Grumpypants.

Our guide then put us back onto the coach (baa), where we were then met by another guide who led us to the boat (baa baa), where one more guide took us across the lake to the jetty (baa baa baa), where - and I s*** you not - yet another guide picked us up and took us to get the crampons fitted for the trek (baa baa baa baa).

I feel obliged to point out that they all gave us almost exactly the same information about the glacier and so by the time we'd got to the base point, I just wanted to get back to the hostel and not see another person for as long as possible.

However, I'm happy to report that once we were split into the smaller groups of 10-12, and after actually getting onto the ice, I actually really enjoyed the whole experience and it was totally worth all the sheep-like stress.

The end of a glorious 11 days

On the whole, we both really enjoyed our time in the area, especially El Chalten, which Anne has boldly named the best place she's ever visited. I'm a little more hesitant at giving out such accolades, but I can definitely say that it's in my top 5.

The next stop is Ushuaia, the world's southernmost city; a place that, like El Chalten, we've both researched extensively and are very excited to scope out, even if it does mean a 3am start to catch our first bus.

Ah well, can't be worse than any of our Asian trips, that's for sure. I just hope that Jock Lovnall hasn't booked onto it too.