A couple of months ago, a friend of mine posted a photo on her facebook-timeline: A small boat floating on a light turquoise lake in front of a high wall of ice.
What a mesmerizing sight! It just sucked me in. Just looking at this picture, I felt the cold crawling up my spine. I was convinced I could see my breath if I exhaled. This place must be a mysterious place, a world of its own, governed by some beautiful, chilled ice-queen.
It was the National Park Los Glaciares in southern Patagonia.
I had to see this place for myself. As soon as possible.
Dramatically jagged mountains, covered by a picturesque layer of eternal snow overtowering fir-covered hills. Trouts jumping in ice-cold turquoise waters of glacier lakes, rivers, and creeks.
Not Swiss enough? Well, the town of San Carlos de Bariloche cranks it up a notch by manufacturing some of the world’s best artisan chocolate and making you pose with a Saint Bernard dog – including the small barrel of rum around the neck; his neck, not yours.
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