Photographing Torres del Paine National Park: Wind, Some Horses, and 15 Minutes of Magic
First Impressions (and Questionable Roads)
After what can only be described as a character-building drive, we finally made it down to Torres del Paine National Park in Patagonia. You know when you arrive somewhere and immediately think, yeah… this is going to be good? That was this!
Mountains in the distance, the potential for really moody light, wild landscape in every direction. Even just outside the park boundaries, there was already plenty to shoot. Dead trees, shrubs, rivers, layers of texture everywhere.
But there was one immediate thought: What else am I actually going to shoot here, apart from the same mountains but with different foregrounds… all the Torres del Paine viewpoints I’d researched all seem be very similar!
Also, about £30 each to get into the park for a 3 days ticket. Not horrific, but not exactly free either. So naturally, I was hoping for at least one decent sunrise. We bought the tickets online here before our first adventure into the park. At the south entrance, we just pulled over at the entrance building, went inside and got the QR codes scanned and went on our merry way.
Waking up Early Day 1…
Morning one: Nothing.
No sunrise. No mountains. Just cloud, rain, and zero visibility. Back to bed. Coffee. Questioning life choices. Patagonia has a bit of a reputation for unpredictable weather. Turns out that reputation is well earned.
The second phase of the Patagonia photography trip was off to a very slow start…
When It Finally Comes Together (Sort Of)
Eventually, the clouds cleared just enough for us to head into the park. We had to at some point, I had a YouTube video to shoot, photos to take, and a worry that the crazy expense on accommodation wasn’t going to be worth it (more on that later).
First stop was a viewpoint near one of the hotels, Salto Chico. And suddenly there it was. The light creeping over the hills, starting to hit the foreground, mountains sitting quietly in the background. It wasn’t dramatic golden hour, but it had mood and the sun was still at a relatively low elevation. And honestly, I will take mood over nothing (or completely clear skies) anyday!
From a photography perspective though, one thing became very clear very quickly. There are only so many ways to photograph these mountains.
The Walkway leading line. Lake. Trees. Mountains in the background. Repeat.
The Composition Problem
This became the theme of the trip. Not a lack of beauty. Far from it. A lack of variety.
There are only a few spots on the limited area’s within the park where you can stop and walk that get a decent view of the epic mountains. A lot of the time (from the road at least) the view is obscured by the smaller foothills.
So the challenge was not finding something to shoot. It was this: How do I make this look different from the other thousand photos taken here?
Some shots worked. Some did not. A lot sat firmly in the “that will do” category to pad out my YouTube video. Which, if I am honest, is par for the course on a lot of my photography trips.
Wind. Lots of Wind. (not that kind…)
They say it is windy in Patagonia. They are not exaggerating.
At one point, I stepped out of the car, immediately questioned my life decisions, and nearly ended up on my arse trying to shoot handheld. 5 minutes later, I did end up on my arse!
Tripod might have helped, but only at wider focal lengths. Telephoto would have struggled. With the increase in wind, came a blanket of clouds which flattened the light. It was time to change tack.
It became less about chasing mountain compositions, more focusing on textures, colours, abstracts, and details in the landscape away from the obvious. Because sometimes the big scene just isn’t working, and forcing it rarely helps.
Wildlife, Chaos, and Distractions
Day one turned into a bit of a tour of viewpoints. Drive. Stop. Get out. Look around. Try and make something work. Repeat. And if you decide to visit Torres Del Paine national park, you’ll be doing exactly the same too.
Each spot had potential, but also the same underlying problem. The mountains looked incredible, but actually building a composition around them was harder than expected. Too many trees in one place, not enough in another. Foregrounds that looked promising from the car and then completely fell apart once you were standing in front of them.
At one stop, I was convinced I had something in the trees. Light starting to hit, mountains sitting nicely in the background. Spent a good ten minutes moving around, trying different angles, different focal lengths… and just couldn’t get it to click. It was probably a me problem, but still!
It is a strange balance. So much to shoot, but not always something worth shooting. Choice paralysis maybe, or maybe just too many mediocre choices with nothing really standing out.
So you start simplifying. Zooming in. Picking out details. Letting go of the idea of “the fore/mid/background theory” and just reacting to what is actually in front of you. I love to do this. It’s less traditional, more minimal.
Day 2 and The 15 Minutes That Made It Worth It
Then, on our final morning, it happened. After the complete bust of our previous sunrise, the early twilight sky looked very promising. Coffee’s prepped, cameras charged, we jumped in the car and headed to the closest good view of the mountains (which is still 20-25 minutes drive from just outside the park!)
By the time we were close, a family stuck on the side of the road flagged us down. I could see the colour starting to come into the sky as I helped them get a jack properly placed so they could change a tyre. The one on there was completely shredded! The roads are gnarly here!
Thinking all was lost, we carried on back to Salto Chico, ran (brisk walked) up the walkway to start shooting.
Fifteen minutes. That is all it lasted. But in those fifteen minutes, the mountains lit up an awesome orangey pink with fluffy cloud swirling around the iconic peaks.
Suddenly, all the frustration and all the waiting made sense. That is the thing with landscape photography, you can spend days getting nothing, and then everything happens at once.
Flow State in the Chaos
Those moments are incredible. You are trying to shoot photos, film video, not get blown over, and actually experience what is happening at the same time.
It is chaotic, but it is also where things click. You stop overthinking. You react. You follow the light. That is probably my favourite part of the whole process. I’m in the zone.
From the outside, I must look like a complete lunatic. But on the inside for a brief time my mind is like an F1 engine, firing on all cylinders, perfectly engineered, operating at peak performance.
The Other Shot I Actually Wanted
And then finally, the horse shot I was looking for (does Jedi hand wave).
We had been driving up and down the same straight stretch of road which leads from the south entrance, trying to make it happen without stopping (which would incur the wrath of the park rangers!)
At one point, I was climbing between seats trying to photograph a group of horses from the correct side of the car, only for us to pull a U-turn, come back towards the horses, and find that the buggers had moved to the other side of the road!!
Why did the horse cross the road? To piss Tony off. Standard.
Eventually though, it all lined up. Sometimes persistence pays off. Sometimes it just wastes fuel. This time, it worked.
This is the reality of photographing Torres del Paine National Park…
It is easy to look at images from Torres del Paine National Park and assume it is all epic conditions and endless opportunities. It is not. It rarely is with Landscape Photography, Patagonia Landscape Photography is no different, and anyone who has done it for a while will tell you the same.
Weather changes constantly, even more-so in wild mountainous environments
Good light is often short-lived (unless you catch a good conditions at a latitude where the sun gives you 6 hours of golden ‘hour’… I’m looking at you Lofoten)
Compositions are harder than they look when movement is restricted due to park rules
But that is part of the challenge. You do not just turn up and collect photos. You have to work with what you are given.
Where to Stay in Torres del Paine (and How to Get There)
Torres del Paine is very different my El Chaltén photography experience, and noticeably more expensive. I said I’d come back to this point.
El Chaltén worked out at £100 a night for us but there were cheaper options. Torres Del Paine on the other hand… our little cabin cost us £310 a night!! Hence only two nights.
If you’re planning a trip, you’ve got three main options:
Stay inside the park – best access, but very expensive
Stay just outside (what we did) – still pricey, but more reasonable and only 20–25 minutes from key viewpoints
Stay in Puerto Natales – cheapest option, but around 1.5–2 hours drive into the park through a myriad of potholes.
You’ll also need a park pass. We paid around £30 each for 3 days, bought online and scanned at the entrance.
Getting there takes a bit of effort. Most people either:
drive from El Calafate (Argentina), often combined with El Chaltén
or fly into Puerto Natales or Punta Arenas (Chile) and rent a car
Either way, expect long drives and some rough roads. It’s not the easiest place to visit, but when it all comes together, it’s absolutely worth it.
The End of the Trip (and the Beginning of Something Else)
After Torres del Paine, that was pretty much it. A long drive back to El Calafate then…. Cancelled flights!!
Panic, dropping the car off a day early, a slightly chaotic detour on a bus to Puerto Natales down the same road we drove up the day before. Squeeze in a taxi and just about get to the airport on time. Flight to Santiago. RELAX. And eventually, the day after home. Not before exploring Santiago airport and the photographic opportunities there.
But the bigger takeaway was not the travel. It was this question I kept coming back to:
What am I actually trying to do with my photography?
Because as much as I love trips like this, big landscapes and big locations are expensive, time-consuming (I’m thinking about limited holiday days from work…) and something I can only do a couple of times a year at best.
So now I am thinking about:
more intentional projects
more learning
more focus on the art itself
Less just “go somewhere cool and take photos”
More “why am I taking these photos in the first place?”
What’s Next
This might be the end of the Patagonia videos, which came straight after my Antarctica photography trip, but it is not the end of the journey. If anything, it feels like the start of a different phase.
More thoughtful. More deliberate. Maybe slightly less chaotic and adventurous, although let’s be honest, probably not.
Watch the Full Video
If you want to see how all of this actually played out, the wind, the chaos, and the 15 minutes of magic, you can watch the full video here:
