Yoga, hiking, being outdoors—it’s my favorite kind of trip. A few years ago, I met a woman running SUP yoga classes around Boston. That’s how I found out about her company, SUP YO Adventures. She wasn’t just teaching yoga; she was leading retreats all over the world that blended movement, nature, and adventure.
Since then, I’ve joined her trips to the Galápagos, Tanzania, Iceland, and twice to Croatia. So when I saw she was offering a Patagonia hiking and yoga retreat, I thought: why not? It looked beautiful, it involved nature and being outside—my favorite combination—and it was with a group I’d already traveled with and trusted. That was enough for me.
Patagonia itself stretches across the very bottom of Chile and Argentina. It’s a huge, mostly wild region—mountains, glaciers, and windswept plains with very few towns in between. Our trip was on the Chilean side, in Torres del Paine National Park, which is known for its jagged granite towers, turquoise lakes, and some of the best hiking in South America.
After four days exploring Santiago on my own (see: 4 Days in Santiago: Exploring Chile’s Capital) , I checked out of Hotel Ismael in Lastarria and flew south to Punta Arenas, where I met the group I’d be traveling with for the week.
Once all 12 of us had arrived, we piled into a van with our guide and driver for the five-hour drive north to EcoCamp. About three hours in, we stopped in Puerto Natales for lunch, then continued on gravel roads the rest of the way into the park.
At first, the road out of Punta Arenas was flat and empty, nothing but sky and land stretching for miles. The farther we drove, the more the landscape shifted. Mountains rose on the horizon—faint at first, then sharper as we got closer. Now and then a lake appeared, its turquoise water bright against the land around it. By the time we reached the park, the peaks were right there in front of us, filling the horizon.
Pulling into EcoCamp, it felt like arriving at the edge of the world. Nothing else was around—just green geodesic domes scattered across the hillside, with mountains rising all around them. I knew right away I was going to love this place.
At the time I booked the trip, I decided to pay a little extra for the Suite Dome, which I’d be sharing with another traveler. EcoCamp has three options: Standard Domes without bathrooms, Superior Domes with heat and private bathrooms, and the larger Suites, which offer more space and comfort. I was glad I chose the Suite—it came with a private bathroom, a wood stove, and enough room to actually unpack instead of living out of my bag. We never felt cramped, and the stove kept us warm on nights when the temperatures dropped.
EcoCamp is built around sustainability. The bathrooms had composting toilets, the showers ran on timers to conserve water, and all the toiletries were biodegradable. Even the domes themselves were designed with efficiency in mind—the windows were placed to maximize natural light, so you barely needed electricity during the day.
The Community Dome was where we gathered for meals and downtime, and there was also a yoga dome, which I knew right away would be my favorite place to stretch and unwind after hiking.
All meals happened in the Community Dome. Breakfast was a buffet—coffee, tea, fruit, cereal, cheese, eggs, sausage. After that we’d pack up our lunches from another spread: bread, cheese, fruit, trail mix, hard-boiled eggs, whatever we wanted to stuff into our packs. There were always vegetarian and vegan options, which made it easy for me.
After hiking, we came back to cocktail hour—wine, cheese, crackers—and then dinner: a three-course meal with soup, salad, and a main dish that worked for everyone, vegetarian or not. The food was fantastic and plentiful.
If you read my earlier post, 4 Days in Santiago, Chile, you might remember I managed to slice open my forearm while hiking near Volcán San José—a cut that needed to be cleaned and bandaged. Because of that, I had to skip Day 2’s kayaking trip on Grey Lake.
After breakfast we left EcoCamp and started the hike toward Refugio Grey. The trail opened to views of snowcapped peaks in the distance, with stretches of lenga forest and wide valleys along the way.
From the refugio it was just a short walk down to BigFoot Patagonia’s base camp on the shore of Grey Lake. Prayer flags were strung between the trees, and a “weather stone” sign gave us a laugh. Most of the group boarded a boat here to reach the kayaking site, while I stayed back with a guide and kept walking along the shoreline.
As we headed north, the trail crossed two suspension bridges with wide views of Grey Lake scattered with icebergs—some jagged and sharp, others smoothed into pale, translucent shapes. Every so often the sound of cracking ice carried across the water. Beyond it all, Grey Glacier stretched across the horizon, glowing blue against the gray rock and cloudy sky.
Later we rejoined the group and returned to EcoCamp. After yoga and dinner, I walked around the camp as the sky shifted into soft pinks and oranges, the mountains fading into the evening.
We were up early, grabbed our packed lunches, and set off from EcoCamp toward Hostería Las Torres to begin the climb into the Ascencio Valley. It was a crisp morning, and I layered up—long underwear, a puffer, and a hat.
The trail wove through beech forests, across ridges, and over streams. Near the top was the moraine—a steep field of loose boulders we had to scramble across. That part wiped me out. I wasn’t sure if it was the climb itself or if I was coming down with something, but it felt tougher than it should have.
Then—there they were. The Towers. Three massive granite spires rising straight out of a turquoise glacial lake, silent and demanding your full attention. We took our packed lunches at the base, then scrambled out to a rock in the lake for a group photo.
One of my favorite moments on the hike was coming across a field of horses grazing in the afternoon light. It was quiet, beautiful, and felt like the perfect counterpoint to the climb.
By the end of the day, we’d covered around 22 km (13.6 miles) and climbed nearly 900 meters (about 2,950 feet)—a solid 7 to 9 hours on the trail. Yoga and dinner back at EcoCamp were exactly what I needed.
While the rest of the group went horseback riding through Paine Hill, I stayed behind. Riding a horse with a large bandaged cut on my arm didn’t seem smart. There was also the option to go mountain biking, but between the injury and the fact that I was starting to feel under the weather, I decided to take it easy.
I spent the day walking around the area near EcoCamp, doing some light yoga, writing in my journal, and sketching. Mid-morning, I walked over to Restaurant Coirón, just a short walk from the EcoCamp lounge, and sat with a coffee looking out at the mountains.
In the afternoon I relaxed even more with a hot stone massage in—where else—the massage dome. It was perfect (minus massaging my left arm).
It wasn’t a day of big hikes or long distances, but it was its own kind of perfect. We rush so much in our lives—it felt good to slow down. EcoCamp is the kind of place where you don’t feel guilty for resting. With the mountains all around and the sky shifting colors throughout the day, simply sitting back and taking it in was enough. By the time the day ended, I felt better for having taken it slow.
We packed small bags for an overnight stay and set off on the Cuernos Trail, part of the famous W Trek.
It was about 13 km (8 miles) from EcoCamp to Refugio Los Cuernos, roughly five hours of steady hiking. The trail had a rhythm to it—rolling forested sections that would open to wide views of the lake and massif. Lake Nordenskjöld was beautiful: glacial turquoise, sometimes calm, sometimes whipped by the wind. Along the way we saw low shrubs, wildflowers, and birds flitting along the shoreline. The Paine Horns were never far from sight, a steady backdrop as we hiked.”
By late afternoon, we reached Refugio Los Cuernos, a rustic stop at the base of the mountains. There was a small bar, so we grabbed a beer—a welcome treat after the hike in. This was also the only place along the trail with a real bathroom and a chance to buy a drink, the kind of small luxury you don’t take for granted out here. Being on the W Trek, the refugio was busier, full of hikers from all over the world swapping stories and drying out gear.
Afterwards, we made our way to the bunkhouses, a short walk from the main refugio. They were nothing fancy—just one large communal room with rows of wooden bunks, thin mattresses, and sleeping bags. Basic and a little drafty, but after a day on the trail, it did the job.
By then, though, it was clear I was sick. I spent the night shivering, feverish, and wiped out—a rough way to end the day.
The next morning was clear and cold. I felt just well enough to keep going, which was good because this was one of the hardest hikes of the trip—and another core section of the W Trek. We’d spent the night at Refugio Los Cuernos, so sitting it out wasn’t really an option.
We left Los Cuernos and headed into the French Valley. Like the day before, the landscape was beautiful, but it kept shifting—forest, open ridges, rocky climbs, and constant new views of the peaks. At one point, we crossed a suspension bridge over the French River, the water rushing beneath our feet and mountains towering all around.
The higher we climbed, the more dramatic the landscape became. Glaciers draped down from the mountains, and rock formations called La Espada (The Blade), La Catedral (The Cathedral), and El Tiburón (The Shark’s Fin) came into view.
The way back wound through grasslands and forest, eventually opening to views of Lake Pehoé in the distance. By late afternoon, we reached Refugio Paine Grande, one of the main stops on the W Trek. Bigger than Los Cuernos, it had a small bar and restaurant, and we sat outside with drinks—tired but happy—while waiting for the catamaran across the lake. The ferry took us to Pudeto on the far shore, where a van met us and brought us back to EcoCamp.
In total, it was about 16 km (10 miles), with around 600 m (2,000 ft) of elevation gain—a solid 7–8 hours on the trail.
By the time I got back to EcoCamp, I was done. I skipped yoga and dinner and went straight to bed. Not long after, one of my guides came by my dome with tea, hot vegetable soup, and bread. I’d been too weak to get it myself, and I really appreciated her kindness.
It sucked to be sick, but I was glad I hadn’t missed the French Valley. It was one of the most dramatic parts of the trip.
The next morning came too quickly. It was hard to believe the trip was over, even if I was ready for some real rest. What made the week so special wasn’t just the scenery but the people who guided us through it. We had three incredible female guides from EcoCamp with us the entire time, which meant our group could split up when needed and everyone could hike at their own pace. That flexibility made all the difference.
The next morning came too quickly. It was hard to believe the trip was over, even if I was ready for some real rest. What made the week so special wasn’t just the scenery but the people guiding us through it. We had three incredible female guides from EcoCamp with us the entire time, which meant our group could split up when needed and everyone could hike at their own pace. That flexibility made all the difference.
And then, of course, there was Patagonia itself—raw, breathtaking, and bigger than I’d imagined. Even being sick couldn’t take away from it. The hikes were tough, the landscapes unforgettable, and the week gave me a true sense of what Patagonia hiking is all about.
My 7-Day Patagonia Retreat: Rough Itinerary
Hi, I’m JoAnne—writer, wanderer, and lover of places that surprise me. I’ve traveled to 60+ countries (and counting), usually with a camera in one hand and a notebook in the other. I’m drawn to mosaics, markets, and mountains, and I write to remember what moved me. When I’m not traveling, I’m working on my blog Travels Afoot, trying new creative projects, or planning my next adventure.
