Journeying South: Bringing Our Baby to Patagonia's Untamed Landscapes
Miya loves the outdoors. She has limited patience for staying inside – particularly in rooms without natural light or restaurants unless we are on a patio.
Because we constantly move around, we can’t set up elaborate playrooms for her, so staying inside becomes boring. We often make makeshift play areas using sheets, blankets, our blankets and pillows – whatever we can find in an Airbnb – and the few teething toys she knows as “friends.”
We are scrappy—Miya is scrappy. She’s so intelligent that she finds a new toy boring within a few minutes. Most of the time, she would rather play with her diapers and Kleenex boxes over anything store-bought.
Her new favourite thing is blowing raspberries on Matt’s stomach or figuring out how to stand fully using the couch – all the while staring at us with her bright, brown eyes and shaking her backside back and forth.
We love that about her. She learns through interaction – staring into people’s eyes intensely, overhearing conversations, and feeling the wind, sun, and rain. She’s so much like us it’s crazy – and not crazy since she’s been moulded into who we are since birth.
Sometimes we wonder what she would be like if she had stayed in the same house and playroom in the same suburban neighbourhood for all her babyhood.
Would she look at new scenery or a different bed with the amount of excitement she does now? Would she reach her hand out lovingly to Mexican grandmas who coo over her in the streets or scream at the ocean in an identical way that she does now? Or, without fault, explode a number two every time we are out?
We’re unsure, but glad we never have to find out. She’s our curious baby, and we hope she continues to develop that thirst for exploration and adventure for the rest of her life.
The first quarter of 2023 kind of disappeared on us. We were in Buenos Aires, learning yet another city –wandering new streets, trying new cafes, and figuring out life and Miya in between.
And then suddenly, we were travelling again.
Going to Patagonia was something Matt desired. He’s not much of a city person – and if he’s not in Vancouver, he wants to be near a coast, mountain or, better yet, a forest. Patagonia was all that and more.
Seeing we were in Buenos Aires anyways, it made sense to go to the southernmost tip of the world. Flying to Patagonia is not exactly a short trip from anywhere.
We spent almost three weeks on both the Chilean and Argentinian sides. Both are fairy tales in their own ways, and travel depends on the weather, especially with a baby.
On days when it rained, we stayed inside with Miya, worked, and stayed warm by cosying up together. On the odd day when there was no rain, we packed up the car with all her supplies – 500 diapers and wipes, bottles, food etc.— drove around national parks or took long hikes.
In Chile, most of the best viewpoints of towering mountains or short hikes to glittering turquoise lakes were accessed right off a national park road in Torres del Paine, and we went everywhere by rented car.
We stayed in a uniquely built triangle-shaped cabin house in the middle of a field in Puerto Natales, somewhat overlooking the ocean. We mostly cooked our own meals (because Chile is expensive) and stared at horses outside our window.
Puerto Natales was wet, windy and a bit grey. It was the perfect amount of moody – a Vancouver kind of moody, so it felt like home.
We dressed Miya in a warm, furry bear suit to brave the cold. Her cheeks became rosy from the wind, but she loved our moments outside. She stared at the mountains and lakes with such concentration we think, at times, she almost forgot we were there. Occasionally, she would coo just a little.
A few bus rides later, blow-ups from baby and Robyn, and a missing luggage mishap (we left Miya’s suitcase by accident in another town), we ended up in El Chalten back on the Argentinian side.
This was your typical mountain town – all craft beer pubs, patios on a warmer day, and hard-core hikers – young and old -- everywhere. The internet was a struggle (to Robyn’s dismay and complaint), so we made the most of being outside, especially since most days were sunny.
We didn’t see a single baby until the hiking trails, and even then, we saw one, and he was about a year and a half older than Miya.
What we loved most was the encouragement and surprise from other hikers. Younger couples loved seeing her on the trail in our little carry-pack strapped on Matt’s back.
I think some women (by how they looked at their partners) especially saw the potential – that they could bring a baby on a long hike – and not be stuck going to all-inclusive resorts, cruises, or Positano for the rest of their life.
And we took her on long hikes – ranging from 10 to 21 km – where the terrain wasn’t too difficult. Matt (to Robyn’s other dismay) ended up going by himself on one of the more challenging hikes to a genuinely spectacular viewpoint.
But, the hikes we brought Miya to – Laguna Capri and Laguna Cerro Torre – were equally mesmerizing.
Miya saw incredible mountain peaks, glacial lakes, and forests peaking with magnificent fall colours – entire orange, yellow and red panoramas. She would reach out to touch trees, laugh at us singing on the trail, fall asleep behind Matt on the pack, and wake up just to see the best scenery a baby could ever experience.
A fellow hiker hoped Miya would return to Patagonia, knowing she went with Mommy and Daddy. We thought the same. We said to each other after the Laguna Cerro Torre hike that it was one of our best-loved days with her so far – just a memory we will cherish forever.
We will return when she’s big enough to run down the trails herself. We hope she will return as an adult and hike the most demanding trails one day with her partner or family.
Travelling with a baby and living nomadically is sometimes tricky, but moments like those in Patagonia make it all worth it.
People bitch and complain about babies travelling or how the experience is stressful for them. But, like anything, it just takes work and patience. And babies do feel and process even if it’s not a fully realized memory. Our Miya is feeling and absorbing everything.
We can't wait for her to experience more— whether in Latin America or elsewhere in the world. Middle East, Asia, and Africa— the world is waiting for her.
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