Patagonia, from the saddle.
A week on horseback through the valleys and passes of the Andes, with Kate Janicki.
Patagonia, from the saddle.
A week on horseback through the valleys and passes of the Andes, with Kate Janicki.
I've spent my life around horses. Starting young ones, riding rough country, learning to read an animal before it tells you out loud what it's thinking. It's the thing I care about most and I never stop learning.
This trip is a week on horseback through the Patagonian Andes, the valleys and high passes around Bariloche, on horses bred for exactly that ground. Full days in the saddle, sixteen to twenty-two kilometres of forest, river crossings, and mountain viewpoints you reach no other way. Nights under canvas out in the country, with the horses close by and a fire going. The horses here are not the ones I know at home. Different ground, different work, different temperament. Part of my excitement about meeting them for the first time too.
I'm not coming to teach you to ride. Most of what I do on a week like this is quieter than that. Noticing. Why the horse under you is calm on the ridge and uneasy at the water. What his ears are doing before you feel anything in the reins. The small conversation that's always happening between a rider and an animal, most of which people miss. If you already ride, you'll leave reading your horse differently. If you're rusty, a week in the saddle brings it back faster than you'd think.
The days are long, the country is big, and out there the rest of the world stops mattering, which is the point. We ride, we eat well, we sleep with the horses close, and on the last night we come back to a real bed and a long dinner above the lake, the kind of evening that lands harder for the week that came before it.
The Andes around Bariloche, where the mountains break into forest, river, and open valley. This is working horse country. You ride where vehicles cannot go and most travelers never reach: the Foyel valleys, the high passes of Cerro Diablo and Cerro Jhony, mountain trails that exist because of horses and the people who work them.
The riding is real. Some days cover over twenty kilometres of changing country, forest to river crossing to a viewpoint you couldn't have arrived at any other way. The weather does what mountain weather does. What you get for it is a week in a landscape that asks something of you, and gives back the particular quiet of country with no road in it.
Because this is one of the few places left where the horse is still the right tool, not a nostalgic one. The horses are Criollos and their crosses, bred over generations for exactly this ground: sure-footed on scree, steady through water, unbothered by weather that unsettles a softer animal. You are not riding through the landscape as a tourist. You are moving through it the way it has always been moved through, on an animal that belongs to it.
You'll trust an animal you just met to carry you across a river. Then you'll do it again the next day.
Long days in the saddle.
Full riding days through valleys, forests, river crossings, and high viewpoints, sixteen to twenty-two kilometres of it, on animals bred for this exact ground. Not a led trail ride. Real days, covering real distance, arriving places you reach no other way.
Kate alongside you throughout, doing the thing she does best: noticing. How these mountain-bred horses differ from the ones you know, what settles them and what puts them on edge, the small signals a rider learns to feel before they can name them. You will not leave a trained rider if you weren't one. You will leave one who sees more.
Camp under canvas next to the mountain huts, fire-heated showers, a campfire, dinner, the horses picketed nearby. No signal, no schedule built for anyone but the group. The last night comes back to a proper bed above the lake, and a long dinner to close the week.
Eight to twelve riders, no more. The trip is built for people who are genuinely comfortable on a horse and want real days in the saddle, not a led scenic hack. You do not need to be an expert, but you should ride, and ride well enough to spend long days in mountain country on an animal you are still getting to know.
Some will have ridden all their lives. Some will be finding it again after years away. What they share is a preference for the real version of a thing over the comfortable one. You arrive not knowing each other. By the last night above the lake, you will have crossed the same rivers and sat around the same fire.
Kate brings her experience. We handle everything else.
You see a week that simply works. Behind it: a Swiss company that designs high-end journeys most people never find. This is one of them.
It is all arranged. Every stay, every transfer, every guide, every meal. Out here that is not convenience, it is what lets you be fully present for what you came for.
This is one week of what we do. Come earlier, stay longer, or let us build something entirely your own, here or anywhere else worth going. The trip is fixed. The rest is open.
Our travellers consistently rate us five stars.Read what they say.
We've travelled a lot, but this one felt different.— Maximilian R.
Everything once you arrive in Bariloche. All transfers, seven nights (camp, mountain expedition nights, and a final hotel night), every meal and the drinks alongside. Guided riding throughout on horses matched to your experience, the full itinerary of rides, a soft first day on foot through native forest, national park fees, and bilingual guides. And Kate alongside you.
Just your flights, visas, travel insurance, tips, and premium wines and spirits.
This is for people who ride, who want the real version of a week in Patagonia rather than the manicured one, and who care as much about the horse under them as the country it carries them through.
We read every application ourselves, and reply to each one personally.
Still have a question? A few practical answers just below.
Applying isn't paying, and it isn't a commitment you can't step back from. When you apply, you're requesting a place while we confirm details together, it's the start of a conversation, not the final step. A deposit is what secures your place; nothing is binding before that.
We'll be in touch personally to go through the details, dates, room arrangements, your riding background, anything specific to you, before anything is confirmed. Once you're ready, a deposit secures your place. Everything from there, documents, logistics, the finer points, we handle with you directly.
We'd rather you knew this upfront than discovered it later: deposits are non-refundable once paid, reflecting the commitments we make to the camp, the hotel, the horses and the guides on your behalf. But you're not necessarily stuck. If someone can take your place, and both we and Kate are happy with the fit, we'll do what we can to arrange the transfer. We also strongly recommend travel insurance, which covers you for the situations we can't.
This is the one to feel secure about: if a trip doesn't go ahead, you receive a full refund. That risk sits with us, not you.
Riders. You don't need to compete or ride at a high level, but you should be genuinely comfortable in the saddle and fit enough for long days, because the riding is the trip, not a garnish on it. If you ride and you want the real version of a week in the mountains, it's for you. If you're a true beginner, this particular week isn't the place to start, and we'd rather say so now than have you finding your feet on day four. If you're unsure where you sit, tell us when you apply and we'll talk it through honestly.
Demanding, and honestly so. Expect full days in the saddle, several covering sixteen to twenty-two kilometres over mountain terrain: forest, river crossings, scree, high passes. The horses are sure-footed and matched to your experience, but the days are long and the country is real. You should be in good health and comfortable spending consecutive days riding and sleeping in camp between them. This is active and real, not a gentle scenic holiday, and that is the point of it.
Criollos and their crosses, bred over generations for exactly this ground: steady, sure-footed, unbothered by weather and water that unsettle a softer animal. They are working mountain horses, not riding-school horses. Kate is alongside you throughout to help you read the one you're on, which is much of the point of travelling with her.
Three kinds of night. First at a camp by Rio Manso and last at a hotel above the lake near Bariloche. In between, several out on the trail in expedition camps, canvas tents with real beds, mostly besides mountain huts with fire-heated showers, and flushable toilets. You will not be roughing it entirely, but some nights you are properly out there.
Yes. Tell us when you apply and we'll plan accordingly.
Still have a question? Write to us at info@theoccasionist.ch.