970x125
Last fall, which was early Spring in South America, my husband and I went on an “expedition” in Patagonia, on the island of Tierra del Fuego, one of the most remote places on earth.
The company we traveled with has a slogan: Go Deeper—into the wilds, into yourself. And we did.
Now, I’m not an “outdoorsy person.” But on this trip, we were in the remote outdoors. And, despite myself, I enjoyed being there. And, I did “go deeper,” and learned a lot. Here are three take aways.
I have nothing to prove. I’m likely older than (some) travelers who go on that expedition and, as I said, I’m in no way a typical outdoorsy hiking type. Yet, the trip was much about hiking, and we did plenty, in four completely different ecosystems in Tierra del Fuego alone. On the first hike, about half-way up the mountain, I reached a point where the path was too slippery, steep and scary. Even though my wonderful guide talked me through the tough parts, I finally realized I’d have to do the same thing going back downhill.
So, I stopped.
I sat on a moss covered rock. I enjoyed the forest flowers and tree bark and birds and ferns and more. She and I talked, and I learned more about Chilean culture and history than I would have if I’d continued puffing up the mountain, staring at my feet. And I realized I was happy with what I did, since I really (at my age) have nothing to prove. That made the rest of the hikes a joy.
Let the seasons (somewhat) drive the observations. On my last hike of the trip, in a national park north of Tierra del Fuego, I lingered behind (as usual), because I wanted to look at the scenery, the flowers, and the rocks. One of the guides stayed behind partly because I was slow, but he was slower. I turned once and saw him lying flat on the ground, camera pointed at something right in front of his face: Darwin’s slipper flowers. They look like small yellow scoops, with white and brown-red inside stripes, and are originally from Tierra del Fuego.
As we walked together, he said, “In springtime, I like to pay attention to the small things, the plants and flowers, the budding tree blossoms. In autumn, it’s time for the big views—when the leaves change color, they are best seen from a distance, so I photograph bigger scenes. Nature and the season teach me what to look for.” I love the idea of switching perspectives and learning how to see both big and small.
The people make the experience. I know that people make the difference when it comes to most experiences—whether a job, a party, or an expedition—but it really hit us hard in Tierra del Fuego.
We spent seven days with a small group that became an impromptu family: four travelers and seven staff people (the chef and assistant, hospitality expert, van driver, guides, logistics person, and team leader), so we were well taken care of. We got to know the staff members, appreciated their expertise, and how good they were at anticipating our needs. And, in 20+ hours of driving in that remote world, we saw two other vehicles and perhaps five other people. At one point, there were more penguins than people.
When we left the team and flew to our second stop, we joined a hotel and the normal life pattern there, and went through culture shock—going from the small family of eleven of us, to a big, less personal experience in a hotel. Also wonderful, but different. It surprised us to realize how important that intimate group had been for us.
Going deeper, in experiences and in life, matters.
