StampCollector

“Bigger than the biggest thing ever, and then some,” wrote the late Douglas Adams in the Hitchhikers’ Guide to the Galaxy.

I’m not quite sure to what he was referring, but it has been pointed out that the description could well apply to the huge enormous immensity of Chile’s Torres del Paine National Park. The place is a windswept vastness of soaring and mysterious granite mountains, glaciers, forests, unpredictable weather and international tourists.

In the best tradition of those tramping a trail through South America, we made a four-day trek through the park a week or so ago, me carrying a heavy camera bag laden with potentially unnecessary equipment and not enough changes of underwear.

For the sake of brevity, below are five pictures that typify the different aspects of the park. There are no shots of the impressive glacier, Glacier Grey, that we saw on the first say, as I have many more dramatic shots of Argentina’s Perito Moreno glacier to come next week.

A shot from day three, when the clouds finally lifted during the daylight hours and the view became a majestic combination of sun, snow, lake and sky.

The weather was often a bit rubbish, to be honest, but on some occasions the cloud cleared just enough to grab a special shot. This one, of one of the park’s highest peaks, was taken near the end of our first day of 22km trekking, testing the effectiveness of the vibration reduction on my new Nikon 70-300m lens.

The trails throughout the park are well marked and well-trodden. In some places rain turns the path into a boggy mess and walkways are built. It’s remote and lonely work for those sent up to build the platforms, no matter how nice the view.

Sometimes the trek was just fun – as on this occasion when I clambered into a raging river to get a picture of little Caroline crossing the big wobbly suspension bridge.

And somtimes it was tough – on the final morning we climbed out of our tents at 4.30am and clambered over rocks for an hour (me, once again, with a full camera bag and tripod strapped to my back) in the hope that sunrise at the Torres del Paine themselves was worth watching.

We missed the path, got caught in a hail storm at the top and had but a few fleeting minutes before the Torres disappeared in a haze of cloud, but when the sun did finally shine on them, it all felt worth it. And I had a new-found respect for those photographers who brave the elements to capture shots of the world’s most famous places.