Patagonia - Argentina

If you listen hard, you can hear the Pacific rolling gently on to the black beach. Look out of the window, and all you see are forested mountains plunging down into the sea. In the distance, a glacier glows turquoise and blue.

Early morning in remote Patagonia can be quite unlike anywhere else on earth. On a clear day, like today, it seems like some temperate paradise.

Patagonia is one of those places that have acquired their own place in the public imagination, a mysterious province at the end of the earth, with mountains and rivers and the occasional colony of German or Welsh settlers. Few travellers go there for the very good reason that it is a very long way away and there is not much to do when you arrive.

They call this place Bahia Mala (“Bad Bay”) and we had reached it by plane, Jeep, and, for the last hour and a half, boat. On the last stage of the journey, we had been pursued by leaping dolphins, barked at by indignant sea-lions on a foul-smelling rocky island, and peered at by albatrosses.

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