7 Things to Know about Visiting the Perito Moreno Glacier

The Perito Moreno Glacier—okay, first off, this isn’t just any chunk of ice. The Perito Moreno Glacier is an actual spectacle in the heart of Argentine Patagonia, nestled inside Los Glaciares National Park. It’s 250 square kilometers of slow-moving, cracking, thundering drama that honestly feels like watching Mother Nature breathe in slow motion. The thing is alive—well, kinda—and I swear you could just sit and watch it for hours as chunks of ancient ice thunder into the milky turquoise lake below.

But like, before you grab your puffer jacket and go full explorer mode, lemme hit you with some real-world stuff you need to know. Trust me, I learned some of these the hard way—like standing at the wrong bus stop wondering why no one else seemed stressed. Classic me.


1. The glacier is actually located in El Calafate (not “Perito Moreno” the town)

Yeah, the Perito Moreno Glacier is not in the town called Perito Moreno, which—plot twist—is over 600km north. Wild, right? I remember landing in El Calafate, pulling up Google Maps, and going, “Wait… are we lost?” You’d think Argentina would throw us a bone and name these things logically, but nope.

So yeah, the glacier is located just outside the town of El Calafate, which, while kinda underwhelming itself, is your go-to base camp. Local tip? Locals pronounce it “El Cala-fat-eh,” and they’ll side-eye you hard if you butcher it too badly.


2. The best way to get there is to take a taxi

Hands down, taking a taxi to the Perito Moreno Glacier is the real MVP move. I split one with two French backpackers I met over cheap empanadas at the hostel and we paid less than the tourist-packed bus—and got there way earlier too. Our driver, Ramón, even gave us insider tips and waited three hours while we roamed the boardwalks like glacier nerds on the loose.

Buses cost about 550 pesos per person, but a taxi (especially split 3-4 ways) is just easier. Hitchhiking is also a thing here if you’re feeling brave (or broke). Just know that Patagonia drivers tend to stop for everyone, even if you’re half-frozen and waving with a hiking pole.


3. Be prepared to give it several hours

Look, the Perito Moreno Glacier is not a quick photo op—it’s a full-blown event. We planned to spend an hour, ended up hanging around for four. It was like watching a living sculpture slowly rearrange itself. Every so often, CRACK—a chunk of ice breaks off and crashes into the lake like a mini earthquake.

There’s food, bathrooms, and a solid visitor center, so you’re not exactly roughing it. But bring snacks anyway—Argentine sandwiches are mostly bread and vibes. Take your time. Every angle, every trail, every hour brings a new shade of blue or a new thunderous collapse.


4. You can visit on foot or by boat or both

You’ve got choices, my friend. There’s the classic boardwalk stroll (free with park entrance), but also boat tours if you want to get up close to the icy beast. I skipped the boat this time because I’d already cruised by Glacier Grey in Chile and figured, “How different could another glacier be?” Spoiler: very different, but I had no regrets.

If you’re feeling baller, do the “Mini Trek” on the glacier itself. Yeah, crampons and everything. It’s not cheap—over 7,000 pesos—but it’s bucket list-worthy. You get to stomp around the actual glacier, channeling your inner Arctic explorer while an English-speaking guide casually explains why that creaking sound doesn’t mean instant death. Good times.


5. Get there early to avoid the crowds

The Perito Moreno Glacier is one of the few glaciers in the world that’s advancing, not shrinking. So yeah, everyone and their grandma wants a look. That’s why getting there early is key—like doors-open-at-8am early.

The day we went, we showed up around 8:15am and had the upper platforms basically to ourselves. By noon, the place looked like a cruise ship dumped its entire contents onto the trail. Local tip: if you can’t do early, try the reverse and go around 5pm. The light’s golden, the crowds have bailed, and it feels like you’ve got Patagonia to yourself. Chef’s kiss.


6. The autumn is a beautiful time to go

We hit the Perito Moreno Glacier in April, which is fall in the Southern Hemisphere, and holy wow—the colors. The trees around Los Glaciares National Park were doing their best New England impression with fiery reds, burnt oranges, and golden yellows. Against the stark blue of the glacier, it looked like a Bob Ross fever dream.

Plus, fewer tourists. Patagonia thins out a bit in the shoulder season, so if you can swing it, aim for late March to early May. Pack layers, because the weather flips faster than a pancake at a hostel breakfast. Also, pro tip: the wind here is no joke—I literally lost a beanie mid-selfie.


7. Feel free to stay on the outskirts of town

Let’s be real: El Calafate is kinda meh. Like, cute shops, overpriced pizza, and more tourists than locals. It’s not bad, but it feels like a layover town, not a destination. I stayed at a place on the edge of town called Hostería Miyazaki (yes, like the filmmaker) that had killer views and way more chill than the downtown hostels.

If you’ve got more time, I’d spend it in El Chaltén, a few hours away and Patagonia’s actual gem. Or hop across the border to Torres del Paine in Chile. But yeah, don’t waste all your days here just because it’s the closest town to the glacier.


Final Thoughts: Go for the Ice, Stay for the Show

The Perito Moreno Glacier is one of those places that lives up to the hype. Whether you’re staring it down from a platform, creeping toward it in a boat, or crunching across its back in crampons, it demands your full attention. It’s thunderous. It’s majestic. It’s kinda humbling, honestly.

So yeah, the Perito Moreno Glacier is not just some frozen wall of boredom—it’s a full-on sensory experience. Just be ready for the wind, the unexpected crowd surges, and the moments where you’ll gasp like “DID YOU SEE THAT?” as a building-sized hunk of ice crashes into oblivion. Patagonia doesn’t play around—and neither should you.

Safe travels, layer up, and don’t forget your beanie (seriously, mine’s probably still blowing across the lake)