Even after I step into the lobby of the Arakur and leave behind the grassy hummocks cushioning the mountain outside, it’s impossible not to feel like I’m still buffered by nature. Smooth lenga wood floors extend a friendly reception, while the life-size tapestry behind the check-in counter is more like a warm, cozy hug. Although most guests (me included) don’t realize it at first, this woollen embrace represents an initial meeting with the strait that connects the Atlantic and Pacific oceans. What I’m looking at is the Beagle Channel — beautifully rendered in felt.

I’ve arrived in Ushuaia, at the southern tip of Argentina, a couple of days ahead of a trip to the Antarctic Peninsula. The city, I discover, is more hectic than I had expected for a place that doesn’t hesitate to call itself “the end of the world.” It’s been like that since cruise-ship traffic to Antarctica started booming two decades ago. Good thing, then, that I booked a room at the Arakur, a 20-minute drive out of the city, up a mountain and into a nature reserve.

To ease myself into the unanticipated busyness of this Patagonian outpost, I spend my first day at the hotel. I quickly lay claim to a comfy leather chair by the floor-to-ceiling windows in the lounge, where I drink espressos, nibble crab empanadas and read about the Southern Ocean. The panoramic view lets me rest my eyes on the Beagle Channel — the real one flanked by rocky shores, one in Argentina, the other in Chile. Around lunchtime, the background soundtrack of murmuring voices and heels on hardwood is overwhelmed by the lively notes from a piano. It turns out that in addition to daytime live music, the property puts on bigger acts on some evenings and also hosts art exhibits highlighting regional talent, not to mention wine tastings in the on-site cellar. And if you don’t feel like going into town for dinner, sit down at La Cravia for everything from hake ceviche to king-crab ravioli to grilled lamb, washed down with crisp albariño or robust malbec.

Easing it in doesn’t mean you have to stay put. I, for one, alternate between Arakur’s great indoors and the hiking trails in the nature reserve that surrounds the property. The Reserva Natural Cerro Alarkén, at some 100 hectares, is a microcosm of the southern Patagonian flora and fauna. Lichen-draped southern beech, chartreuse mosses, spiky calafate-berry bushes and bright orange Darwin’s fungus flank trails that tunnel through forest before widening in grassy meadows. If you’re lucky (I was), you might spot the large Magellanic woodpecker, and if you’re extra lucky (I wasn’t), the South American grey fox.

The hike in the woods, paired with the cool wind and drizzle, are good reasons (if you need any) to sink into the pools and hot tubs at the spa. I linger in the heated outdoor infinity pool, taking in the port and the nearby snow-capped mountain. I dunk my head and hear whale song emanating from underwater speakers; high above, caracaras are doing aerobatics. Even right here, in this tiny spot amid the vastness of Patagonia, the ocean and mountains have a way of meeting, of merging the elements that make up the drama of Tierra del Fuego. I may be, as the locals put it, at the end of the world. But frankly, that’s not the end of the world.