From Colour to Ice: An adventure in the Chilean Fjords

Most people think Patagonia equals glaciers. But it doesn’t start there.

From my arrival in Santiago, it’s a short vehicle transfer to Valparaiso. This port is colourful; a bit rough around the edges, full of personality. Painted buildings everywhere, street art on every corner, and little tucked-away bars which I really love.

It feels alive. And slightly chaotic. And completely different to what I was  expecting.

Looking back, that contrast is important—because from there, everything slowly starts to change.

As you head south, the landscape shifts almost without you noticing. After all, Chile is a famously elongated country, so there are huge geographical and weather differences between the very top and the very bottom of the country. 

Around Valdivia and Niebla, it’s green. Proper green. Dense rainforest and quieter too—not silent, just calm in a way that’s hard to explain.

Then the mountains start to appear with snow on top, waterfalls running down dark rock, and lakes that are so still they don’t quite look real. At times I had to remind myself I was in South America.

Chiloé has its own feel altogether—wooden churches, houses on stilts, slower pace. It’s easy to like. But one of my favourite days wasn’t anything particularly “famous.”

We went out to a Patagonian estancia, and it ended up being one of those days you talk about afterwards more than anything else.

Watching the Australian cattle dogs work was fascinating—they’re incredibly respected over there. And there was one horse that spent the entire time pulling the most ridiculous faces. Honestly, it entertained us all day.

It was a simple day—a barbecue, chatting to locals, seeing how people live—but it felt real. Not staged, not polished.

You’ll see plenty of glaciers.

And if you’re lucky enough to hear one calf break off the shelf, it’s an awesome experience. 

For me though, it was the colour.

The blue in the ice is extraordinary. It doesn’t look real. It almost glows. And you find yourself just standing there, not saying much, just taking it in.

I travelled on the Scenic Eclipse II, and I loved it and I have championed this vessel ever since.

Just 220 passengers. It’s billed as the world’s first six-star luxury expedition yacht. It feels much bigger once you’re on board—lots of places to sit, which you appreciate on a longer journey.

The dining makes a difference too. The Night Market was probably my favourite—smaller, more intimate, and watching the chefs cook right in front of you.

But interestingly, I found myself going to the buffet most days for lunch. It was just easy, fresh, and one of the best I’ve had.

My cabin was also a highlight—around 32 square metres, which is very generous. The bed was incredibly comfortable (which always matters more than you think), and the whole space just worked.

Even though it was often too cold to sit outside, I still liked having the balcony. Opening the door for fresh air or stepping out quickly when there was wildlife—it’s worth it.

I’m lucky enough to have traveled through the Norwegian fjords and now the Chilean Fjords. The experience is quite different. The Norwegian Fjords are almost postcard perfect. The Chilean Fjords are harsher, more remote, but just as beautiful. 

Arguably, one of the biggest differences is that on my Chilean cruise there seem to be more opportunities to interact in a meaningful way with locals. It felt a little less touristy than Norway. 

From the Strait of Magellan down to Cape Horn, you’re following a route that explorers once navigated without maps. And you can feel that it is something special. 

And I loved the way the whole journey transformed as we sailed south from colour… to green… to rock… to ice.

We disembarked in Ushuaia, very windy Ushuaia, and then caught a flight up to Buenos Aires. The scenic eclipse after refueling was ready to head on to the Antarctic Peninsula. A perfect combination in my view will be the Chilean Fjords and then stay on and carry on and visit Antarctica.