Is this heaven?” asked family and friends when I WhatsApped the pictures. If beauty is a criterion, it certainly was. The predominance of pristine blue-and-white all around me — the Argentinian flag fluttering on the boat, Lake Argentino, the snow on the Andes, the sky, the mesmerising hues of floating icebergs and the glaciers of the southern Patagonian icefields — were absolutely heavenly. 

My nose and hands, numb with exposure to the chilly winds on the open deck of the boat, might have also mistaken the place to be ‘heaven’. 

The boat had comfortable seating arrangements below but to stand on the upper deck, with an unrestricted 360 degrees view of the splendour around, always proves irresistible. This time too, I wasn’t disappointed. Sailing on the huge lake (1,466 square km) was like sailing on a slice of sea. White foam trailed the boat, chilly winds danced around, a sleepy sun cast a silver glance on the lake, the sky, snow-capped mountains and icebergs reflected their mirror images on water, and the passengers, awe-struck by the beauty, accentuated the silence of the surroundings.

Suddenly there was a ripple of excitement and squeezing my way between the passengers to peep over the side of the boat, I saw icebergs of all shapes and sizes floating on the lake. More snow-covered mountains, partly enveloped in mist, came into view and suddenly the boat started slowing down. In front of us lay the Upsala glacier — a pathway of ice stepping up from the lake and skirting the mountains to an unknown destination. The boat turned left and right, like a showstopper on the ramp, giving everyone enough time to get a fill of the beauty. 

The boat was now turning back. It was time to take a round of the lower decks. The crew had collected some pieces of floating ice and as I held one, my frozen hands froze some more. 

Our next halt was the Spegazzini glacier, which sat on a throne of elevated blue ice. As we moved away, I sat on a step, watching the cold, captivating scenery. 

After disembarking, we took a bus ride to Perito Moreno glacier through forests and snow-covered Andes. Named after explorer Francisco Moreno, this glacier is very popular because of its size and accessibility. It is said to have retained its mass when most glaciers in the world are receding. 

A number of steps and walkways take you down to the glacier, each bend giving a magnificent view. The first thing that strikes you about the glacier is the look — a seemingly unending, three-mile wide icy blue carpet with glimpses of a deeper sapphire blue. Face-to-face, you are spellbound. Another thing that strikes you is the sound — the thunder of falling ice. Mostly it’s out of sight but at times, if you are lucky, it falls right in front of you, 200ft below, shattering the calm of the waters. I saw three in quick succession.

The Southern Patagonian icefield of Argentina and Chile, located in the Andes, has 48 glaciers, of which 20 are in Argentina. These glaciers and the lake lie within the Los Glaciaers National Park. It was half-an-hour’s drive from El Calafate town to the port from where we took the glacier sightseeing cruise while Perito Moreno is about 78km from the town. 

Our hotel was a little away from the town but buses plied every half-an-hour. The small town, which gets its name from a local bush bearing yellow flowers and blue berries, has a charm of its own — sparse population, pretty wooden cottages, the lake, a backdrop of icy mountains and a vegetation to go with it. Along the waterfront, flamingos gingerly stepped on the water and then flew away in a flash of pink. In one of the chocolate bars in the town, I gobbled up a huge piece of cake. In another, I had some of the most mouth-watering delicacies I have ever tasted. 

If this wasn’t enough, I had an extremely cheesy pasta and caramel custard for dinner and decided to walk off the calories. The full moon was very inviting. Having been assured that it would be safe to walk down till my hotel, I set out for a moonlit sonata. As I left the town behind, streetlights and people gradually disappeared, the road became lonely and houses seemed fewer and far between. At a distance I could see the lighted waterfront.

Initially happy and content walking all by myself and soaking in the beauty of the moonlit night, worries surfaced after half-an-hour — the time I had reckoned it would take for me to walk down to the hotel. It was 9pm but the lodge showed no sign of showing up. I walked up to a house to ask how far the hotel was. Assured that it was another 400 metres, I started walking again. 

In the loneliness of the night, however, fear crept into my heart. What if one of the cars zooming by stopped? On cue, a car stopped just ahead of me. What if somebody stepped out? The door opened. In a flash, I scurried like a rabbit across the road and stumbled up a grass slope to the house up there. A dog barked somewhere, my ankle hit against a rock. I was past caring. I scampered up and pasted my face on the glass window of the house in a desperate attempt to catch the attention of whoever was inside. No one. I looked over my shoulder. No person or car was in sight. I could now see a lady inside. She later told me that my apparition almost gave her a heart attack. Suddenly, I had lost the stomach for a lonely moonlight walk. Everything is beautiful till fear creeps into the mind. Sensing my reluctance to proceed alone, the lady drove me to my hotel, which happened to be just around the corner. 

I had given the Amazon cruise a miss for El Calafate. All said and done, a visit to the place put all my initial regrets into the freezer.

A visit to Argentina would be incomplete without a mention of Buenos Aires, the country’s capital. My highlights of the city were Casa Rosada, the presidential palace from where Eva Peron, whose life is depicted in the film Evita, had served her country and its people, the obelisk that we had seen so beautifully lit up during Fifa World Cup 2014, the La Boca neighbourhood, which is home to Boca Juniors club made famous by the likes of Diego Maradona as well as Caminito street (which means a ‘little walkway’ in Spanish and is famous for the genesis of tango music), the city’s maddening traffic, a taste of its famous mate (a traditional south American drink, particularly in Argentina) and an amazing Tango show. 

This was the last leg of my South American sojourn. I had travelled half way round the globe to fulfil this dream. A bouquet of experiences in my bag, I now prepared for a long flight back.