To add to the story below, we took our final bus journey this past weekend. Now I hope that I didn't leave a negative impression in anyone's mind in regards to our fondness for the South and Central American bus systems. I can't say that I have much (or anything) to compare it to, but still, I believe it to be second to none. Seriously. We were looking at a map and realized that we have darn near covered the distance from Mexico to the Southern tip of Argentina (minus the Darien Gap between Panama and Colombia where the PanAmerican highway disappears completely, and snakes and wildlife might have eaten us, also, the southern most part of Mexico and Northern Guatemala). That is about 5500 flying miles, probably 15,000 road miles with the zigzagging, mountains, backtracking and everything else, and honestly, with the exception of a few inconveniences, we have never had a problem. Could we really have said the same if we had traveled that far by Greyhound? I doubt it.
Back to this weekend... do you see how easily I get off track? You should see me in a classroom :). So, we took our last opportunity, Argentine Independence weekend, and traveled to Las Cataratas de Iguazu or Foz do Iguaçu (isn’t Portugues funny) between the boarder of Argentina and Brazil. For our last bus experience, I must say that it was memorable!
We showed up to Retiro, the bus depot in BsAs, and saw a window with a promotion to the Falls. "Great." we though, "leaving in about an hour, we can get some dinner and be on our way." "What is super-cama?" I asked Adam. We had taken the luxerious coche-cama before and more often the semi-cama, but super-cama was new to us. "Who cares," he said, "the price is right, heck it's a promotion... how bad can it be?”
I'll tell you how bad... FREAKING AWESOME! Probably the best bus in the history of the world. We had a little cabin like area where our seats fully extended into beds—que lujoso. We had curtains and a hot young steward-guy that brought us coffee and dinner. He even gave us champagne! If I had known such things existed, I would never have stayed a night in a hotel/hostel. Think of the miles we could have covered!!! Super-cama lives up to its name as a SUPER bed. The 16 hours just flew by. Ok, that's it for the update.
There is honestly nothing in this world like long distance bus rides. It is the best way to see the landscape and to get to know the people… intimately. We have logged weeks worth of bus hours, and as a result have plenty of stories to tell. Stories of wheel wells catching fire, a mix up (or maybe not) of a porn video instead of the Van Dam movie they normally show (see picture)
, a bus accident that left us stranded on the side of an unpaved rode in the middle of the night, military searches, boarder crossings, being dropped here there and literally everywhere. We have slept in bus stations and found travel companions in the ticket lines, but few memories are as clear and vivid as one particular ride from Villazon, Bolivia to Potosi.
From the get go, we knew these particular 12 hours were going to be grueling. The bus was beyond sold out, and as we were some of the last to purchase tickets, we were stuck in the very back. The back row had 5 seats, but had been sold to 8 bodies, Adam, three adults, three children and me. It was an over-night ride which presented more of a space problem than it would have had it been day; there is just something about the night that makes people want to spread out and cuddle with whom ever is nearest to them.
The roads in Bolivia are how I imagine the surface of the moon, only with very earthly gravity pulling the bus towards the edges of the sheerest cliffs known to man. I admit that I am easily frightened of things like airplanes and fiery bus crashes, but I feel that I was more than justified during this journey. My knuckles were white with fear as I gripped the seat in front of me, yet amazingly, the other passengers seemed calm, and even began to drift off to sleep between the violent, jerky bumps. It grew very cozy in the back row. We made small talk with the family and were soon like old friends. The kids got hungry and started in on a bag of cookies. Wet, half eaten bites flew from their hands as the bus weaved in attempt to hit each and every pothole. The crumbs were ground into our sweaty, closely pressed skin and clothes. Adam had the window seat and was sheltered from most of the debris, while my arm became sticky with sugar and baby drool.
Babies have to eat, even on long bus rides, so I was not offended in the least when the woman next to me whipped one out and fed her child. I am pretty desensitized to this action and feel that it is natural and necessary. It wasn’t until the woman began to drift off to sleep that I wished her large, milk engorged breast clothed. She started to lean in the way that people do when they fall asleep upright. Her child unlatched and was gently shifted toward me. A baby in my lap was one thing, but with each bump the breast was also encroaching on my space. Slowly it crept. I tried to barricade the child between its mother’s right boob and myself, but alas, it was hopeless. The breast jiggled and shifted with the contours of the road until at last, it came to rest
- firmly in the crook of my left arm. The lactation had apparently not ceased from the recent feeding, and warm milk pooled in my elbow crease. I was wedged in my seat; pinned by my husband to the left and by a giant breast to the right. Helplessly, I shifted and tried to gently lean my left shoulder into the sleeping woman, but it was no use. In the end, I repositioned the child in my lap and focused my attention not on the lactating boob, but toward the terrifying mountain scenery hundreds of feet below the wheels of the bus.
(Bus picture of Adam drinking Cocaquina)
It is time to say goodbye to this beautiful city which has been our home for the past year and a half. We fly out today at 9:00 pm and will be back on the west coast at 1:00 pm tomorrow. We are packed, cleaned and ready for our departure. Here are a few last minute photos of our final days in the Big BsAs. We will see you all soon!
Have you been to the falls? Conoces las cataratas? Whenever the topic of Argentine travel comes up, this is the first question asked. Until last week, the answer was always "no," which was then met with an infatic "well you must!" But now, after our trip to the Argentine/Brazilain boarder, we no longer have to say "no," we can say "yes, and they are beautiful!" Here is what Wikipedia has to say about Iguazu Falls- "The waterfall system consists of about 270 falls along 2.7 kilometres (1.67 miles) of the Iguazu River. Some of the individual falls are up to 82 metres (269 feet) in height, though the majority are about 64 metres (210 feet).
The Garganta del Diablo or Devil's Throat (Garganta do Diabo in Portuguese), a U-shaped 150-metre-wide and 700-metre-long (490 by 2300 feet) cliff, is the most impressive of all, and marks the border between Argentina and Brazil. Most of the falls are within Argentine territory, but from the Brazilian side a more panoramic view of the Garganta del Diablo is obtained."
These are called coati mundi, they are all over the falls and although they look cute, they are sneaky little thieves!
, a bus accident that left us stranded on the side of an unpaved rode in the middle of the night, military searches, boarder crossings, being dropped here there and literally everywhere. We have slept in bus stations and found travel companions in the ticket lines, but few memories are as clear and vivid as one particular ride from Villazon, Bolivia to Potosi.
- firmly in the crook of my left arm. The lactation had apparently not ceased from the recent feeding, and warm milk pooled in my elbow crease. I was wedged in my seat; pinned by my husband to the left and by a giant breast to the right. Helplessly, I shifted and tried to gently lean my left shoulder into the sleeping woman, but it was no use. In the end, I repositioned the child in my lap and focused my attention not on the lactating boob, but toward the terrifying mountain scenery hundreds of feet below the wheels of the bus.
After being here for about a year and a half we finally made it to a Boca Juniors game. Boca is the most popular team in Argentina and when we first came to Argentina we lived near the neighborhood of La Boca. We became fans instantly and have tried to follow them throughout our time here. We always said we wanted to go to a game and after talking with people here it seemed it would be difficult to get tickets. Not the case. Last week, as were doing some sight seeing we stopped by the stadium and were able to buy tickets easily.
We go and stumble upon this crunchy chunk of ice.
We took a little trip down south for Semana Santa to see the Lake District and the Patagonia. If traveling was a professional sport, we would have won a gold medal for this trip. Offense wins games, but sleeping in bus stations and hitchhiking with oil truckers wins championships. We got ourselves in a bit of a pickle at the wee tip of Chile. With only 4 days remaining until we had to be back at work, we were told by one grumpy ticket clerk after another that the buses were either full or not running for the holiday. Nay-sayers! "No buses until Monday!" they scoffed, "You will never make it back in time!" About 48 hours of solid bus riding stood between us and Buenos Aires, leaving on Monday was a serious problem. Our thumbs had already come in handy a few times during the week, but were they ready for such a task? They sufficed when we needed a lift to or from a national park, but more than 2000 kilometers is a whole different ball game.
Out of our clenched fists they rose, and like tiny, fingernailed pillars of hope, they attracted the likes of Daddy Yankee thumping teenagers (and mothers), famous Argentine wool barons, and a petrobas truck driver named Louis. Boy can those South American truckers haul gas! (I know, I know, keep those sweet puns rolling!) So to all the haters at Tasca bus, Valle, ViaBariloche, Joakim Noah and Express Patagonia... Where were you this sunny Easter morning? We were taking long over due showers in the comfort of our apartment in BUENOS AIRES!!!
