El Calafate and a Patagonian Doma Festival

The bus departed Puerto Natales at 8:00am, following a route across the vast Patagonian steppe. Much of the landscape was open and seemingly endless, with low scrubland stretching towards distant mountain ranges. The weather was calm, offering clear views across the plains that dominate this remote corner of South America.

Crossing the Chile–Argentina border was straightforward, although it added a pause to the journey as passports and customs formalities were completed. Once back on the road, the scenery gradually changed from rugged Patagonian wilderness to the flatter grasslands that surround El Calafate.

The journey then continued east across the vast Patagonian steppe towards El Calafate. For much of the route the landscape seemed almost endless, with rolling grasslands stretching to the horizon beneath enormous skies. Despite the apparent emptiness, wildlife was never far away. Guanacos were a common sight grazing beside the road, while several rheas could be seen wandering across the open plains. The occasional bird of prey circled overhead, taking advantage of the strong Patagonian winds. Although the journey was primarily a transfer between destinations, it provided an opportunity to experience the sheer scale and remoteness of Patagonia, a landscape that feels untouched and wild even when viewed from the comfort of a bus.

One feature that became increasingly noticeable during the journey was the network of fences stretching across the Patagonian landscape. Installed primarily to manage sheep farming, these fences have helped shape the region for over a century, but they also create challenges for wildlife. In several places, guanacos could be seen moving alongside the fence lines, and sadly we also passed the carcass of a dead guanaco caught in the wire. While guanacos are capable of jumping fences, young animals and those attempting to squeeze through can become entangled. Conservation groups in Patagonia have increasingly highlighted the impact that fencing can have on native wildlife, not only for guanacos but also for species such as rheas and foxes, as it fragments habitats and restricts natural movement across the steppe. It was a sobering reminder that even in one of the world's most remote landscapes, the relationship between human activity and wildlife remains complex.

A lunchtime stop gave us the opportunity to try a traditional Argentine choripán– a grilled chorizo sausage served in a bread roll. Cooked over charcoal and enjoyed in the warm Patagonian sunshine, it was a simple but memorable meal and a welcome break from the long journey to El Calafate.

After arriving in El Calafate, we checked into the hotel and headed out for a wander around town. Almost by chance, we came across a horse-breaking festival taking place nearby. What began as a casual walk turned into one of the most memorable afternoons of the trip. We spent several hours watching the riders, horses and crowds, absorbing a vivid slice of gaucho culture. It felt raw, traditional and deeply rooted in this part of Argentina — a reminder that Patagonia is not only about glaciers and mountains, but also about the people, skills and customs that define life on the steppe.

A traditional Patagonian horse-breaking competition, known locally as jineteada, is one of the most iconic displays of gaucho culture. The event tests a rider's skill, balance and courage as they attempt to remain mounted on a powerful horse determined to throw them off. Unlike rodeo events in North America, the emphasis is on the rider demonstrating control and endurance rather than controlling the horse itself. Competitors are judged on their riding technique, posture and the length of time they remain in the saddle while the horse bucks, twists and leaps around the arena.

The event is carefully organised with safety as a priority. Once the allotted time has elapsed, or if the rider is in danger, a team of experienced horsemen known as apadrinadores rides into the arena. These skilled riders position their horses alongside the bucking animal and help the competitor dismount safely while both horses remain in motion. Watching the apadrinadores at work was almost as impressive as the competition itself, demonstrating the exceptional horsemanship that remains an important part of gaucho tradition across Argentina.

Not everyone in the arena appeared to be competing. Some riders simply seemed to be enjoying the chance to ride, circle the arena and be part of the afternoon’s atmosphere. These images capture those quieter moments: individual horsemen and women at ease in the saddle, showing the confidence, pride and connection with their horses that sit at the heart of gaucho culture.

After spending much of the afternoon at the doma festival, we headed down to the shores of Lago Argentino for a leisurely walk along the waterfront. We had hoped to spot flamingos feeding in the shallows, but they remained elusive.

Even without the flamingos, it was a relaxing end to the day. Families and friends were gathered by the lake, many drinking mate, the traditional herbal infusion sipped through a metal straw known as a bombilla. After the noise and energy of the arena, the lakefront offered a quieter glimpse of everyday life in El Calafate.