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Published: November 28th 2011
Day 46 - Friday 25th November
Today was the start of a trip we had both been dreading, an agonising two day bus journey up the “legendary ruta 40” in Argentina. As I may have explained before, there isn’t a lot to see as a tourist through a large swathe across South America. The huge Patagonian ice sheet that covers much of lower Chile has few access points other than the lower portions which we had visited via Argentina. The middle portion of Argentina is largely cattle, sheep and oil country with few tourist sights other than possibly sighting the snow peaked mountains of the Andes. Most sensible people fly down to the lower accessible portions of Patagonia and Ushuaia and then out again. We however got several long bus journeys down and now chose to get one very large one out.
Ruta 40 is a highway that runs the length of Argentina alongside the Andes, that until recently was nothing more than a rough dirt road but is quickly being asphalted. I had read lots of accounts of this road that described it romantically as a marvellous adventure, full of quaint towns and fabulous vistas. Having spent a great deal
of my childhood travelling down rough dirt roads with my father, and also time in other countries trapped on endless bus journeys, I looked on the this trip as possibly being the worst points of both….trapped on an endless bus journey whilst travelling down crap dirt roads, and I was right. This journey is billed as a great tourist adventure down a great old road through a remote part of the country. For Europeans this sort of travel is really novel but for Australians it is common place. We both love travelling through remote territories but it is always best done at your own pace where you dictate where you stop and for how long; both options are unavailable on a bus journey.
Our journey started at the hotel where after breakfast we completed our packing and came out to the foyer for our promised lift down to the bus station. As predicted by Shelley, the hotel owner was not there and we had to resort to getting a taxi down town to the bus station. For once our timing was spot on and the bus turned up shortly after our arrival. We were underway right on 9am and heading
out of town, past mountains that were bare on arrival, but now heavily dusted in snow. An hour out of town we had to stop and wait for another bus to turn up with additional passengers from El Calafate. Underway for only twenty minutes before we once again stopped at a service station, where everyone piled off for a toilet stop.
It was nearly ten before we started again and about a hundred metres down the road we hit the dirt and the bus slowed to a crawl. Nearly the entire day was spent travelling down a rough dirt road and only occasionally would we hit tar. A new road was under construction adjoining this track for the entire distance, some of it was preliminary earthworks whilst some of it was near completed and seemed to tease us with its shiny new coat of asphalt. The bus was constantly switching from one side to the other of this new road, and it appeared that the road had been under construction for a long, long time. The wind outside was so strong that often the cloud of dust created by the bus actually overtook the bus so that we were enveloped
by it cutting our visibility.
Ruta 40 although shown as travelling the length of the Andes, does it from quite a distance so that most glimpses were exactly that “glimpses”. Having spent so much time climbing mountains we weren’t that impressed at seeing them from such a distance. Most of the scenery was just endless low rolling hills covered in scrub, similar to anything you may see in Australia. We met a South African traveller who told us they would call this a “Mamba road”, named after the Mamba snake as it snakes endlessly and it also stands for “Miles And Miles of Bugger All”. The description fitted perfectly.
As for the bus, well we had more leg room than we have had for a while, but once again the driver refused to turn on the air conditioning and in fact for the first part of the journey had the heat on. As the day dragged on it got hotter and hotter and incredibly stuffy in our tin can. Shelley coped really well with it but I just couldn’t stand it, and as the day dragged on it I just got worse. The bus did stop a couple of times,
but in this corner of the world there really wasn’t much to stop at. The stops were mainly for a driver change every 2 hours, which was good to see. The bus actually had 3 drivers who would alternate and they were by far the noisiest people on the bus; these guys would talk under water with a mouth full of marbles. Years of holding conversations over the roar of a diesel engine had perfected their pitch so that even someone travelling in the car behind would possibly know what they were saying.
Late in the afternoon we stopped at a service station where we could stop for a bite to eat and a toilet stop. Of course there was only one female and one male toilet for a bus load of people that hadn’t seen one all day so it ended up being a long stop. We managed to stretch our legs for a bit and get a coke and some more water. On the road again and we soon got some more small samples of asphalt but dirt was still the order of the day.
Finally at 8.15 after being on the road for over 11 hours we
made it to the tiny town of Perito Moreno. When we went to get our bags from the compartments in the bottom of the bus we were glad to see our bags buried at the bottom as all the bags on top were smothered in that crappy fine road dust. It was great to finally get off the hot stuffy bus till of course we saw our room for the night. The bus company we had chosen (El Chalten Travels) is the only company that does this run and they also organised the hotel room for our stay in Perito Moreno. The Hotel Belgrano acts as the bus stop in town and nearly everyone that travels this route stays here. We had decided to stay here as we thought that due to our late arrival and that the bus stopped at its door step it would make things easy. The room was $70 aussie dollars, which was about $65 over priced and would win the prize as our worst hotel room on this trip. The room was dirty, and included a used band aid on the table, mould growing in the shower and most surfaces covered in grit. The room
was tiny, had shuttered windows that couldn’t be opened and the room had that dank musty, stuffy smell like the windows hadn’t been opened since Eva Peron had been alive. Thankfully the bed appeared to have clean sheets so at least we could get a goodnight sleep.
As soon as we got the room we had a quick shower to wash the dust off us and also before the hot water ran out. The hotel had a restaurant but after seeing the cleanliness of the room we took the option to eat elsewhere, and so after our shower we ran out the door as quick as we could. Found a supermarket down the road where we thought we could pick up supplies for the next day’s trip but before we could pick up much they were closing so only had time to get a bag of chips and some biscuits. Thankfully on the next block we discovered a pastry shop where we could pick up some empanadas and a cheesy bread thing. This was going to be the best we could do for breakfast and lunch for tomorrow.
The icy wind that had plagued us for the last two days,
was persisting and we just about froze as we wandered back through town trying to find somewhere to eat, and ended up settling for a hotel restaurant that gave us a fairly ordinary feed, but at least the beers were cold and cheap. Came back to our hotel and decided to have another beer in the hotel bar before going to bed. I don’t think we really wanted to face our room and I half contemplated just sitting in the bar drinking all night, but the thought of spending the next day on the bus with a hangover kept me at one beer. The owner of the hotel was a large slob of a man and he was wandering around the bar area with his shirt half hanging out being annoying. He had given us a cursory grunt as he handed us our key on arrival, and I probably shouldn’t jump to conclusions about him as we didn’t have much to do with him, but you know when you get the feeling that someone is best avoided.
Two doors from our room was the shared bathroom for the “non deluxe” rooms, and the smell coming from it was horrific and
was filling the entire hallway, making us thankful we had our own bathroom.
Day 47 - Saturday 26th November
Surprisingly the bed had been comfortable and warm and we both slept well. We could have paid $18 pesos ($4.50) each for breakfast at the hotel but once again chose not to eat here and instead had a couple of cold meat empanadas instead. Have had plenty of meat pies for breakfast back home, but never cold, and it was probably a big risk having them as we had bought them last night and they had been just sitting on the table all night. As we keep saying “what doesn’t kill you can only make you stronger”.
With breakfast over we got our bags together and stood outside in the freezing cold wind waiting for our bus that arrived half an hour late. The bus today was of a slightly better quality externally, and we had two drivers and a woman who would make announcements to our time schedule and stops but was basically on board to try and rope people into staying at the company hotel in Baroliche. Although my hopes were raised on seeing a better quality bus
the journey was no better than the previous days. The main difference was that today’s trip was predominantly on asphalt and we spent minimum time on the dirt road so we could at least travel at a decent speed.
Only a couple of weeks ago we didn’t think we would be doing this trip as the Hudson Volcano in Chile had sprung to life and was threatening to go up big time. It erupts on average every 20 years and the last time was in 1991 and had buried Perito Moreno and a large swathe of Argentina in ash, killing 250,000 sheep and cattle. When it sprung to life last week it was described as a monster, the area was put on the highest alert and towns were evacuated, but thankfully it settled back quickly and I think has now gone back to sleep allowing us to sneak through. So it was with a great deal of relief that we finally slipped out of Perito Moreno at about 8.30.
Like yesterday we only travelled for a short while before stopping at a service station in the middle of nowhere. When we had picked up the tickets last week the woman
told us that there would be plenty of stops, and so we had assumed that there would be heaps of quaint towns to see but the reality is that there is bugger all to see on ruta 40, and it truly is a lonely stretch of road. Once underway again we had to endure yet another stifling hot trip, with no air conditioning and no air. It wasn’t till after people started complaining did the staff pop the roof vents, which made next to no difference.
Sometime around 1.30 we stopped at a small town for lunch. The woman announcer on the bus told us we had the option of a restaurant or a nearby service station. When the bus stopped in front of a restaurant the 3 staff running the bus quickly jumped off and ran in for a feed leaving the bulk of us to wander off trying to find an alternative feed and a bathroom. Most of the people on the bus wandered around till we discovered the service station down the road where we swamped the bathroom and some picked up snacks. We spotted a bakery on the walk and ended up having pastries for lunch, which made me feel like we were doing a road trip at home, where you seem to be eating all the wrong types of food and nothing healthy…started feeling kind of home sick.
Everyone stood around for about half an hour eating their snacks and/or pastries waiting for the staff to emerge from the restaurant, and we didn’t get under way again till 2.30. From here the road started heading back towards the Andes, so the flat endless plains started getting hilly and eventually we started spotting and then travelling through snow peaked mountains once more. Stopped at a crossroads to the town of Esquel to allow some people off before pushing onwards. It was now about 5 on the final day and we were finally passing through quaint towns and seeing spectacular scenery. Our final pit stop for the day was at a service station in the “hippy town” of El Bolson. We had contemplated staying here for a night or two but we may just opt to stay in Bariloche a bit longer. It is hard to gauge a town through the window of a travelling bus but El Bolson didn’t look much and we didn’t think it would be worth the 4 hour round trip from Bariloche.
It was after 7 by the time we got under way again, and it was another 2 hours before we finally reached our destination of Bariloche. We had spent another 12 hours on a hot stuffy bus but we had at least made it in one piece. As we approached and proceeded through town we had the Lonely Planet map out and were able to pinpoint our position. The bus station is 3 kilometres out of town but fortunately our bus dropped us in the centre, just around the corner from our hotel…you have to win sometimes. Got our bags out of the bus and on our back and only had to hike 30 metres to our new home. The Premier Hotel is a 2 star budget hotel, but it is only 200 pesos ($50) a night and is located in the middle of town so it was a great option. Our room is located at the back of the first floor and although basic is clean and airy and a million light years better than the crap we had the night before.
We both stunk after such a hot sweaty bus journey but decided to forgo a shower and just see if we could find a beer to wash away the dust and maybe have a small feed. Had a short walk around the streets before settling on a tiny bar three doors from our hotel, that was little more than 4 small tables and a bar that sat 3 people. As we entered we were not only greeted by the owner but by the 2 old men sitting at the bar making us feel like we were walking into our own local. Got a small burger and a couple of beers before weariness overtook us and we headed back to our hotel.
The last two days on the bus has been the second hardest trip of my life (it is hard to top 15 hours in a cattle class train in India), and a lot of this was because I wasn’t in a good frame of mind. I had been worried about how Shelley would cope but in the end she came through a lot better than me. A good well worn mantra when travelling is that the journey is more important than the destination, but the last two days has proven to me that this isn’t always the case.
Day 48 - Sunday 27th November
Woke up around 8 feeling a whole lot better than when we went to bed. Today being Sunday we just knew there wasn’t any reason to be leaping out of bed and racing around, as nothing was going to be open. The breakfast in the Hotel was nothing flash but still fairly good considering the price we are paying. Shelley at least got to pig out on a lot of fruit, which she has been missing.
Slow start to the day, and didn’t get out the doors till 10 and as we predicted the town was pretty well dead. Bariloche is (along with Mar Del Plata), Argentina’s premier tourist town. In winter it is the nation’s number one ski town and in summer still attracts hordes of local tourists who flock here for the scenery and for the fact that it is cooler than the coast. The town is also the number one spot in Argentina to pick up chocolate and whilst waiting in bus stations in other towns we had noticed tourists arriving by bus from Bariloche carrying boxes of chocolate so big you could be buried in them. The town however had been hit badly by the ash spewing out of the nearby Chilean Volcano, which inundated the town and picturesque lakes. We had been worried that the town may be off limits because of the ash but everything we had read on the internet suggested that things were back to normal and the place was cleaned up.
We had high hopes for this town and both imagined a high end tourist town with lots to see and do, but unfortunately the town wasn’t what we had expected. The town is actually quite small and looks a bit shabby around the edges and this may be as a result of a loss of trade due to the ash, and other than souvenir and chocolate shops, there isn’t a lot to see. Sunday isn’t a good day to go shopping in any town (including Sydney) and a lot of places were shut so we were forced to do more window shopping than anything else. The main town square is really pretty and from there you look across a huge lake to snow peaked mountains so we could at least appreciate the setting and understand why so many people flock here. The square also had several people wandering around with St Bernard dogs and having tourist pay to have their photo taken with them. The people were treating their dogs quite harshly and yanking them around in to positions for the tourists to pose with them so we refused to have anything to do with them. Strangely enough all through the town the image of the St Bernard was plastered across every tourist trinket imaginable. I guess it had something to do with this being a ski town but other than that we couldn’t understand the connection. Likewise was T-shirts with Homer Simpson on it and labelled “Bariloche”.
As we walked around the wind kept getting stronger and we were constantly being showered in fine ash. It wasn’t really bad but we did keep getting some of it in our eyes and mouth. The view across town and the lake was also very hazy and we are unsure if the volcano is still spewing out ash or if the wind is just whipping up the old stuff. We did feel sorry for the shops as a light dusting of ash was all through the shop window displays and it would be impossible to keep out. We wandered around the town for a while till Shelley started getting the poops with the place and the lack of things to see and do, so we picked up some chocolate and headed back to our hotel. We sat and blogged for a bit and ate our chocolate, which wasn’t bad, till it got to 5 and we headed out again. The wind outside was now icy cold and blowing a gale and black clouds were rolling over and threatening to rain. We walked around till we found a place where we could book a tour out to the mountains tomorrow or the next day and then looked around for somewhere to get a drink and perhaps a feed later. Hardly any restaurants were open and there were no bars, and we ended up walking around in circles for an hour in the light rain till we finally found a café open where we could at least get a drink. Shelley hadn’t been in the best of moods today and was struggling a bit with how there wasn’t much open in town. We had contemplated having dinner at the café till we saw how bad the food was, so we pushed on looking for an alternative.
Shelley discovered that the town’s only Chinese restaurant was open and decided that we needed a change of pace and should give it a go. The fact that she rarely eats Chinese at home should give an indication at how desperate she was by this stage. As soon as we sat down and got the menu, we just knew that we had made a mistake, and we both just burst out laughing. The menu was bilingual, Chinese and Spanish, neither of which we knew, god knows what we were thinking. Started scrambling through our Spanish phrase book trying to decipher a Chinese menu and was at the point where I was just going to pick a random number, when our waiter came to our rescue with an English menu.
The meal ended up being tasteless and horrible but it was an interesting experience having a Chinese meal in Argentina. Whilst we ate the Asian waiters were glued to the television watching soccer, so that at least gave us the feel that we were still in South America.
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traudy glasencnik
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Great rant! 11 hrs...torturous!