ushing our small Mercedes bus all over the road. The rolling, windswept steppes were dotted with sheep with lambs nuzzled against their mums for protection. Properties of more than a million hectares are not uncommon and station homesteads were few and far between.Slowly the undulations became hills. The hill became larger with each bend in the road. Then we sighted distant mountains with menacing snow, capped peaks.
Hosteria Lago Grey did not impress at first sight. This was our accommodation for the next two nights. A dusty gravel road, a rusted battered sign and the relic of a rusted out bus greeted us.
Looking like a cross between an abandoned youth hostel and a Russian re-education camp I wasn't all that inspired. Never judge a book by its cover. Twenty metres to the right of reception I witnessed themost amazing view from any hotel at any time in my life.
I was surrounded by snow-capped mountains, a
white-capped lake and an awesome glacier of ancient times. If that wasn't enough in
the foreground was a huge, opalescent blue iceberg. It could not have been positioned more if one had tried.
Two hundred frames later I traversed a short boardwalk to our hotel room. This was a room the eco-environmentlaists dream about;
huge picture windows overlooking the lake, glacier and iceberg enveloped in a shroud of the snow-capped Torres del Paine. Artistically designed with two huge beds with fluffy doonas and large overstuffed pillows, changing areas for hikers, centrally heated and wi-fi just for starters.
Peace and quiet, in pristine wilderness and an iceberg on my doorstep. As a photographer I could want for little more.
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