Nature Calling
I road-trip through Patagonia on Argentina’s luxurious long-distance buses and Chile’s less-luxurious ones. There are days when I wake up in one country and fall asleep in the other.
Patagonia is unspoilt, remote, pristine. To my pleasant surprise, the place is practically empty. 
I make it to the southernmost point in the world in Tierra del Fuego, Argentina.
Here is the end of the Pan-American highway that stretches to Alaska, so many thousands of miles north.
The nature here is supersized. So is my ambition. Folks at home would fall down in shock if they saw how uncharacteristically active I am here.
My friends may think I’m lazy because I love to sleep until noon and despise all forms of ritual exercise (aka the gym), but take me out of the country and it’s a whole different ballgame. Suddenly I’m scaling mountains and hiking to temples and sea kayaking.
I take a bus to a small town that’s on the brink of exploding due to its proximity to some of Patagonia’s grandest mountains. The sole reason: to go ice climbing. I strap on crampons and spend 12 hours trekking across glaciers before scaling an ice wall with pickaxes. I’m loving every minute.
I try to keep up with Diego the guide, who traverses the icy crevasses like a mountain goat. There are many places where the ice has split into a deep crack, and the color inside is the bluest blue imaginable. I wanted to drink that color, it looked so pure.
After crossing the Andes on two buses and a boat, I sleep on a massive ferry for four days while cruising through glaciers and fjords in southern Chile. To alleviate cabin fever, the ship holds nightly dance parties in the main cabin where the captain performs double-duty as the DJ.
We celebrate the sight of land with pisco sours and jigs of joy.
Once on land again, we resume the pursuit of nature on foot. I spot llama-like guanacos and turquoise lakes in Torres del Paine National Park.
The wind rushes toward me and onto the towering mountains in the background. In my photos, my hair is flapping wildly in the air and covers my face as I laugh and try in vain to pose for the camera. But Nature won’t have any of it, and as I look through the snapshots, I can still feel the gusts of wind flying through my hair.
