Unlike our trip to Iguazu, during which we splurged for first class bus tickets with Crucero del Norte (highly recommended, btw, and still pretty cheap!), the journey to Patagonia found us in two rows of “Ejectivo” (second class) seats on a slightly, er, a-hem “older” bus… the seats did not recline fully, the washroom was disgusting at best, and the “pillows” were more like thin sheets of Styrofoam. The biggest problem, however, was that there were several large, centrally-shared TV screens.
Try putting two 9-year-old boys to bed while some sort of gory monster movie is playing three feet ahead of them! Even without sound (of which there were short, random bursts, despite the fact that one needed to plug headphones into a special jack to properly hear the full movie), the visuals were riveting, and not in a good way.
My frequent attempts at redirection failed; I was convinced that their consumption of this crap would lead to bad dreams, which inevitably meant I, too, would not get much sleep this night; but one cannot reasonably force a person to close his eyes!
Eventually, sleepiness won out over on-screen action, and the boys drifted off, giving me some time to myself to properly mourn the loss of my vest* -- which I had stupidly left on a chair at the bus terminal in Buenos Aires -- while waiting for dinner; the latter was served in typical Argentinean fashion, at 10:30 p.m.
Try putting two 9-year-old boys to bed while some sort of gory monster movie is playing three feet ahead of them! Even without sound (of which there were short, random bursts, despite the fact that one needed to plug headphones into a special jack to properly hear the full movie), the visuals were riveting, and not in a good way.
My frequent attempts at redirection failed; I was convinced that their consumption of this crap would lead to bad dreams, which inevitably meant I, too, would not get much sleep this night; but one cannot reasonably force a person to close his eyes!
Eventually, sleepiness won out over on-screen action, and the boys drifted off, giving me some time to myself to properly mourn the loss of my vest* -- which I had stupidly left on a chair at the bus terminal in Buenos Aires -- while waiting for dinner; the latter was served in typical Argentinean fashion, at 10:30 p.m.
Jeanette had plugged in and was watching the monster sci-fi horror flick, and Tats -- whose ticket we had purchased at the last minute due to the prior week’s health uncertainties -- was far away from us, tucked into a window seat at the back of the bus with two large canisters of tea and a big, warm blanket.
This left me to enjoy the twilight view out the window, in the foreground fields of green and gold and the occasional herd of cattle, in the distant background, the mountains.
This left me to enjoy the twilight view out the window, in the foreground fields of green and gold and the occasional herd of cattle, in the distant background, the mountains.
What a change from the concrete jungle of Buenos Aires, I mused as I stared out onto a crimson sunset, and wondered what tomorrow morning’s landscape, in Puerto Madryn, would hold.
The blankets, at least, were decent, and after consuming what non-animal and marginally edible foodstuffs I could locate on my plate and relinquishing the rest of my tray, I wrapped myself in said blanket, and drifted off to sleep
The blankets, at least, were decent, and after consuming what non-animal and marginally edible foodstuffs I could locate on my plate and relinquishing the rest of my tray, I wrapped myself in said blanket, and drifted off to sleep
The next morning, we celebrated Jeanette’s birthday on the bus. The boys had made her a card, and we had brought along some balloons, silly glasses and a few small gifts.
It was not much longer now until Puerto Madryn, and the landscape outside reflected the change from Buenos Aires and even the surrounding countryside. We were definitely in the desert now, and the dry Patagonian steppe stretched for miles around us.
It was not much longer now until Puerto Madryn, and the landscape outside reflected the change from Buenos Aires and even the surrounding countryside. We were definitely in the desert now, and the dry Patagonian steppe stretched for miles around us.
The last 20 minutes of a 20-hour bus ride are definitely the most challenging, and we were all eager to get off the bus once we had arrived safely in Puerto Madryn!
Dany, the co-owner of the lavender farm where we were staying, was there to greet us and pick us up; he and his partner Patricia are already proving to be gracious hosts… The internet here is a bit slow and sketchy, but stay tuned for more photos soon!
* In case anyone feels sorry for me and is wondering what to get for my birthday (March 30!!!), feel freel -- they don't seem to have the maroon colour anymore. :( But any brilliantly warm and super lightweight vest I will be truly thankful for -- women's size large, please, lol!
Dany, the co-owner of the lavender farm where we were staying, was there to greet us and pick us up; he and his partner Patricia are already proving to be gracious hosts… The internet here is a bit slow and sketchy, but stay tuned for more photos soon!
* In case anyone feels sorry for me and is wondering what to get for my birthday (March 30!!!), feel freel -- they don't seem to have the maroon colour anymore. :( But any brilliantly warm and super lightweight vest I will be truly thankful for -- women's size large, please, lol!