Torres del Paine Hiking Circuit, Day 5 (Camp Grey)

We had been really hoping for some warmth the next morning so we could dry our clothes and warm the chill in our bones, but such is the way with mountain weather that we woke up the next morning to another day of snow.

All the same, there was little that could dampen our moods. We had completed the hardest part of our trek, and after today, we would gradually start entering the slightly more touristy part of the park, commonly referred to as the "W" on account of the shape of the trail.

With no real reason to dilly dally in this tiny, freezing campground, we quickly hit the trail. Today, all along the entire way, the trail followed along Glacier Grey. It afforded us frequent viewpoints and glimpses of the glacier. Dark clouds had gathered ominously across the sky, occasionally burying us in bursts of snow or rain, but for the most part they had the decency to hold off on the intense precipitation. Not that it would have mattered in any case, Delta and I were in a decidedly elated mood.

The face of the glacier was deceptively tall. The icebergs at the edge of the water, the smallest ones, were the size of Manhattan skyscrapers. The entire glacier was alive - from time to time, it emitted murmerings and rumblings that spoke of movement beneath the surface.

One has to be very lucky to actually see a large chunk of ice break off the glacier, and Delta and I had been hoping for a glimpse of this. We waited by the edge of the glacier for a while, watching for any cracks or movements in the ice.

Nothing.

But as soon as we got up and turned to leave, and there was an enormous clap that filled the air, as loud as a clap of thunder in a desert storm. This was followed by a loud, grinding roar, and we rushed instantly back to the glacier, but we had missed it by a second. The iceberg had already fallen into the water. The plunge created large waves that resonated outwards towards the shoreline of the lake. We watched on, stunned.

We waited for a few more minutes, and were just about to head out once more, when it happened again. A loud clap that caused my heart to jump into my mouth, and suddenly a grinding roar as another hunk of ice dislodged itself from the glacier. It was the size of a Manhattan building, plunging into the water below. The waves created were enormous.

Delta and I watched on, our eyes like saucers. We were just grateful to have had a chance to witness any of it at all.

Then silently, filled with awe, we turned in unison and headed further down the path.

When we reached Camp Grey that night, and set up camp, it instantly started raining again. By this point, Delta and I had been wet, cold and shivering for two days straight, and we just couldn't bear the thought of another evening in the rain. So we headed over the refugio and bought ourselves a hot dinner and a bottle of wine.

The refugios only cook one item for each meal, so you don't have menu options. So we just ordered "dinner", whatever it was. When the food came out to us, it was a large steak. Delta turned to me in concern, since I don't eat red meat.

"How are you going to eat?!" he asked.

I turned to him. "What do you mean?!" I was already half way through devouring the steak.

After being starved and cold and hungry for so long, nothing was going to keep me from a hot meal. Not even red meat.