First stop was the IGN, the map office, where we were unable to find good maps of Paine. But instead we found a native of Punta Arenas, full of tips. And also long roll-up maps of the long thin country we were to fly down.

Then out exploring, along the roaring Alameda to Cerro San Cristóbal, and up the funicular railway there.

The story really begins in Providence, in May, when I told Dad we should go to Patagonia. He looked a little shocked, at first, then almost immediately switched to a grin.

After six months rather haphazard planning, slowly pruning a grand tour fit for 3 months down to a realistic 3 week plan, we boarded various aircraft in late December, and found each other in sunny Santiago.

There is of course a giant statue, very Catholic, who on clear days enjoys a view of the Andes.

At right is the view towards the Barrios Altos, further up the Alameda, where the rich have been fleeing for almost a century.

In the morning, we took two flights down along the spine of the Andes. To green green Puerto Montt, and on to Punta Arenas.

As we flew over the lake district I tried to spot the volcanos Osorno, Villarica, and Mt Tronnador... but gave up after finding each twice.

Day one, Laguna Armarga. We picked up our bags wondering whether we bought too much food, tightened our still conspiciously new boots, and set off.

Almost immediately we had a glimpse of the towers, which after this would remain hidded behind hills for several days.

There was lunch, and more walking, and our first glacial-green lake. And an amazing field of red grass, and many fields of daisies...

... some of which were a little soggy, but not our first campsite, Seron, thankfully.

We met a Chilean veteran by the time-honoured method of sounding like we might have tools to fix his MSR stove, and quizzed him about weather: lenticular clouds mean rain, he said. And we hadn't seen any.

It rained all the same the next day, blowing and cold. But cleared up again that afternoon, making the appearance of camp Dixon quite a spectacle.

Day 3 was all rivers and forests, and warm enough for the bugs to venture out at lunchtime.

We saw our first little glacier, and then sat down to welcome the new year:

(Tom's picture, that's how I'm in it)

and we started up the pass:

2007, above tree line

Despite the cheap whiskey, which we didn't want to carry for another week, you see, everyone was doing just fine in the morning