Into the heart of Patagonia

Poles? Check. Boots? Check. Waterproof jacket? Check. It felt like the list of items that I needed to hike the five-day W Circuit in the Torres del Paine, Chile, was endless. It was the biggest hike I had done to date, and I was doing it on my own

The Torres Del Paine National Park is located in Chilean Patagonia. It's a land of wild landscapes, where high, craggy mountains dominate the skyline. They are complemented by sparkling lakes, vast glaciers and some very extreme weather conditions.
There are two ways to hike the "W" trek - either from west to east, or starting from the east and going straight to the Torres, after which the park is named, and working westwards. Both have their benefits - I'd been told that the west to east route had better views of the Los Cuernos mountains and started with a relatively easy day's hike to ease you in. So this is what I chose.
The moment I stepped off the catamaran to start the hike, it started raining. Not just a drizzle, but a full downpour, accompanied by strong winds. I'd been warned that the weather was notoriously unpredictable. Winds frequently reached 80-90km/h, and hikers could expect to experience rain, wind, fierce sunshine and snow in the course of one day.
Knowing that the rain might not stop for a few hours at least, I set off. After a few short, steep climbs, the rain had stopped, the sun was shining and I was treated to my first incredible view: of Lago Grey. Less grey than a brilliantine blue, I could just see a few icebergs floating on the lake in the distance.
The rest of the day's hike towards the shelter called Refugio Grey was enjoyable. There were frequent climbs and descents but, on the whole, it was not too challenging. I passed through meadows of foxgloves, rocky outcrops and spied a few tantalising glimpses of the glacier along the way.
Unfortunately, that part of the park was severely damaged by a fire in 2011. The fire burned for five days and covered an area of 40,000 acres. The land is recovering, but the damage is still evident in the sections where the only flora is the burnt out trunks of hundreds of trees.
In seemingly no time at all, however, I'd arrived at Refugio Grey where I flopped onto my bed for a short rest before heading to the lively communal area for dinner.
The next day should have been another relatively easy one - a hike of 1 ½ hours up to the viewpoint for Glacier Grey then back to the Refugio before making the return journey to Paine Grande. Unfortunately, the morning dawned with heavy rains and strong winds.
As the weather was supposed to get worse that afternoon, I was faced with a difficult decision. Should I hike to the viewpoint (where the weather conditions made it unlikely that there was going to be much of a view to be had) and then risk not being able to make it to Paine Grande? The other option was to walk to a nearer viewpoint, 15 minutes away and then go towards Paine Grande. The view from the nearby viewpoint was disappointing enough to make me glad that I hadn't spent another three hours to see much of the same.
Soon after, I started out for Paine Grande. Even with my heavy pack on, there were a few instances where the wind managed to blow me off course. About halfway through the hike, the wind died down and the rain stopped. It wasn't long before I could see the lodge looming on the horizon - another day's hike was done.
I had always known that the third and fourth days of the W were going to be the most challenging. So far, I'd hiked about 12km each day. Day three the hike would be 28km with a steep uphill climb into the Frances Valley.
The first section of the path between Paine Grande and Campamento Italiano (a free campsite at the base of the Frances Valley) was wonderful. The path was relatively flat and there were plenty of glacial springs where I refilled my water bottle. After an hour or so, I got my first proper look at the Cuernos mountains - dark and imposing, rising 2,500m into the sky.
On arriving at Campamento Italiano, I dumped my large pack at the rangers' station and then started uphill towards the first lookout, "Mirador Frances". It was steep, and fate would have it that the day was hot and clear. After an hour scrambling uphill, aided by some strategically placed ropes, I had made it to the lookout.
The view was worth the effort: from the height you could see the full scale of Lago Nordenskjöld, framed by the valley through which I'd just climbed. Cerro Paine, the tallest mountain in the park at 2,850m, loomed high - and, to the side, I could see the Torres in all its glory.
I still had a fair walk before arriving at Los Cuernos Refugio, my night's accommodation. The first part of this section was on a wide-open flat with the stunning views of Cuernos that had been the deciding factor in my trekking the W in this direction. After a while, the terrain changed, turning into a wooded habitat through which the path wound its way. Uphill, downhill - it seemed endless. My pack was feeling heavier and heavier with each step and I was starting to flag.
Luckily, by the time I was starting to question whether the Refugio actually existed, I came across a small lakeside beach - the perfect opportunity to take off my boots and dip my feet into the bracing water.
Refreshed and cheered, I put on my pack and walked back onto the path. No sooner had I done so than I saw the Refugio peeking out from the trees, a welcome vision on the horizon.
That evening was a fun one. By now, I'd come to recognise the other hikers. They were a mixed bunch, ranging from 20-75 years of age, and from all over the world. We swapped the day's battle stories over dinner and drinks, heading down to the lake's shore in time to witness a beautiful sunset.
Soon enough, it was time to say goodbye to Los Cuernos Refugio and embark on my last full day of hiking to Refugio Chileno and then on to the Torres peaks themselves. It's a steep climb out of Los Cuernos and already very hot, despite it being before 9am. But as I walked higher, the view became ever more riveting, providing a welcome relief for my tired lungs.
The going was quick after the initial uphill burst, at least for a few hours before the path started to climb towards Chileno. It was a slow two hours of hiking up steep inclines that were rarely punctuated with any flat sections.
Finally, I spied the refugio. It was with a great sense of relief that I dropped my pack when I arrived.
The day's hike was not yet over. Everyone recommended going up to the Torres in the afternoon if it was clear, as there was no guarantee that the visibility would be any good in the morning.
Once again, I started out. It's an hour's walk from Refugio Chileno to the free campsite Campamento Torres. The path is mostly uphill through forest, with a few rickety bridges crossing fast-flowing mountain streams.
At Campamento Torres, I consulted the map and was relieved to see it was only 45 minutes to the viewpoint for the Torres. What a 45 minutes. The path was so steep as to be almost vertical. It was hot, rocky and strenuous work.
Towards the end of the path, I emerged above the tree line. Instead of being surrounded by lush canopy, I was instead faced with a terrain covered in boulders that looked impossible to surmount. It was difficult work making my way from boulder to boulder. More than once, I considered turning and heading back. When I came to the top, I was glad that I had. There they were, the Torres del Paine, up close. Jagged peaks rising from a green lake to complete the picture.
I sat, rested and soaked it all in for a few minutes before packing up my bag and going back down. It had started to rain. I'd made it just in time.
The next morning was cloudy and rainy - making me thankful that I'd gone up to the Torres the day before. There would have been no glorious sunrise to see.
I packed my bag and geared up. There was nothing left for me but to walk the 5km down to the base and start my journey back to Puerto Natales and, with that, a clean shower.