“I am the guardian of the glacier,” says Andrea Carretta. He does not mean this as a boast but rather a simple acknowledgment of service. The 46-year-old park ranger slowly lowers himself until he is on one knee. In quiet tones he asks the glacier for permission to lead us onto the secluded ice.
We’re at the approach to the Exploradores Glacier, situated in southern Chile’s Laguna San Rafael National Park. It’s early September, a season of less rain and fewer tourists. Swollen gray clouds loom over us as the dense forest recedes. We strap crampons onto our hiking boots and crunch our way through a terrain of slick morainal sediment that suddenly cascades into a swirling panorama of pale blue ice massifs and minty glacial waterways. The primordial might of Exploradores must be respected, even by someone like Carretta who visits the glacier on foot daily, often spending evenings at its edge in a firelit cabin bedroom where he dines on canned food. As a new visitor, I find the glacier beautiful but also terrifying, as with any indomitable force.
It’s a bit jolting, then, to hear Carretta say, “The glacier is dying.” The words are both tender and factual. Born in the Italian Alps, an accomplished but wayward mountain climber, Carretta found his paradise in Patagonia in 2016. He relocated to Chile with his wife and son, who accept how his heart is divided. “I know the glacier loves me,” he says.
(This thrilling Chilean trek is the world’s southernmost hike.)
Today it is his lot to measure with sensors the steady recession of the glacier, about a yard every year. It’s there for Carretta to see. Where there was ice, now there are ponds. There is no mystery here. The melting of Patagonia’s glaciers coincides with rising temperatures that, in turn, correlate with the past half century’s acceleration of carbon emissions.
“The tourists who come here for a beautiful photo, I say to them, ‘Take your photo, and then come back in five years and take another, so that you can see the difference the way I see it,’ ” he says. “Maybe there’s hope. Or maybe the Earth will just punish us.”
As world-famous as Chilean Patagonia is, though, its extravagance lies in its lack of polish. Here nature—hushed, magisterial—is luxury enough. The region’s 775-mile north-south byway, the Carretera Austral, winds through the snow-draped Andean mountain chain and pastures, betraying only the vaguest evidence of human habitation, such as the odd cowboy on horseback flanked by his tribe of cattle dogs. With the exception of urban Coyhaique, the towns of Chilean Patagonia do not stray from the territory’s rough-hewn ethos. Its people are synchronized with the land rather than with greater civilization. The common adage here is, “He who
The website maxtravelz.com is an aggregator of news from open sources. The source is indicated at the beginning and at the end of the announcement. You can send a complaint on the news if you find it unreliable.
The first written evidence of beer being brewed and consumed dates back as far as 4,000BC, with the ancient Sumerians believed to have developed the earliest known methods for creating the alcoholic drink. Its history and connection to human civilisation runs deep, and a number of today’s beers have their own remarkable heritage.
Put your feet up, click on National Geographic’s wondrous new Animals Up Close With Bertie Gregory and feel remarkably energized. This six-episode series is a re-imagination of a previous program, Epic Adventures with Bertie Gregory. Premiering September 13th on Disney+, Animals Up Close is an eye-opening, horizon-expanding show — daring and dazzling in its content and cinematography — leading viewers on exceptional journeys to remote destinations. It is steered by 30-year-old visionary filmmaker Bertie Gregory, whose passion, charisma and engaging expertise entice aplenty. He soars and dives, climbs and splashes. An avid globetrotter, born in England, Gregory is a bright star among a fresh, fun, gifted generation of wildlife filmmakers. Gregory and I talked about some of this season’s prime highlights, below.
Whether you’re headed to Chile for the deserts of the north, glacial parks of the south, or the vast Pacific Coast, no itinerary is complete without a closer look at the Andes. Overlooking Mount Mocoen, within Fundo San Francisco de los Andes, this Airbnb gives you tiny house living with the Andean Range as your backyard – a mere two hours north of Santiago and 35 minutes from San Esteban, Valparaíso.
Post-pandemic “revenge travel” is in full swing, and tourists are flocking to Italy in droves like never before: with the country poised to break all tourism records in 2023, visitors–especially from the U.S.–are expected to beeline to Italy over other European destinations for the foreseeable future, to revel in the ineffable magic of la dolce vita.
The latest Sustainable Travel Index for 2023, released by Euromonitor International, highlights Sweden as the epitome of sustainable travel within Europe. Notably, a staggering 19 out of the top 20 positions on this index are firmly held by nations belonging to the European Union and the Schengen Area, as reported by SchengenVisaInfo.com, citing Euromonitor—an independent provider of strategic market research.
With the soaring Andes to the east, the pounding Pacific to the west, Patagonian fjords down south and an immense desert up north, Chile is the kind of diverse natural playground that adventure lovers dream about.
No, you weren’t just imagining your social media timelines full of all your friends posting from Istanbul and Turkey this summer. It happened to be true.
Authorities around the world are imposing or considering curbs on travellers from China as COVID-19 cases in the country surge following its relaxation of “zero-COVID” rules.