Argentine Buses Disappoint

The first disappointment was getting into Argentina. I elected to cross the Parana River from Encarnacion to Posadas, which seemed simple enough.

I caught a bus quickly and it ploughed through the traffic to the Paraguayan customs post. Most of the passengers were locals, who stayed on the bus. Getting my exit stamp was quick and easy but the bus didn´t wait. Luckily the guide book had warned about this so I had all my luggage and my bus ticket with me. I just had to wait half an hour until the next bus from that company.

Getting two thirds of the way ocross the bridge was easy. The last third was a traffic jam that moved painfully slowly. Finally we were able to disembark and everyone went through Argentinian immigration. A charming lady who spoke good English listened to my request to use my NZ passport in Argentina when my Paraguayan stamps were in my UK passport. "Why not?" If only more government officials were this intelligent.

There was a queue for customs that moved at a snail´s pace. Eventually it transpired that this was the wrong queue, but I was not the only one misled by the lack of signs. A new queue formed for those not bringing in commercial goods and somehow I was at the back. Two customs ladies looked thoroughly disinterested, made me unlock and open my big pack and then merely glanced inside it. Maybe they had x-ray vision.

The 2nd bus was long gone and the driver had refused to give me my ticket back. The guide book did not explain that apparently you can hop on any bus from Argentinian Customs to the Posadas bus terminal. The route wound its way all over the city but did eventually end up in the bus terminal with just two passengers left.

And here was the answer to where are all the new buses in S. America. Huge, powerful new vehicles lined up to whisk the travelling public all over Argentina. Just you wait, I thought. One day you will be retired to wreck your suspension on Bolivian highways.

I adjusted my watch to Argentinian time and set about finding a bus to Iguacu. Miraculously there was one leaving in only 15 minutes and I got on it.

Other travellers had painted a rosy picture of Argentine buses, with seats that folded back to become comfortable beds. The better companies were praised for their selection of movies , the quality of the food they provide and the generous provision of alcoholic beverages. Coffee and water are constantly available. Lesser classes of bus are cheaper and deliver correspondingly less luxury.

This bus was "ejecutivo" class, which I now understand to mean that it will stop at any bus stop. Since these are placed along the road at about every 10th tree, this did not make for a high speed journey. There were frequent turns down lanes to little towns and stops along the main highway. Luckily it also meant that hawkers were allowed on the bus in Posadas so I was able to buy sandwiches and a soft drink. No steak meals here. The seats were "semi-cama". This means that they recline, but not to the extant of imitating a bed; just a tad better than economy class seats on a plane.


Even at this proletarian level of travel there was a coffee and water dispenser. The coffee was pretty good, too, if you like a tablespoon of sugar dissolved in an egg-cupful of black coffee. Oh well.


The countryside sometimes looked the same as Paraguay and sometimes not. I saw plantation forests for the first time on the trip. They were some kind of pine tree. For all I know they were pinus radiata, which is grown so much in NZ. Certainly they were well tended. Pruning was obvious.

There were also fields of bushes, which I took to be yerba, the basis of mate. The plants were at a convenient height for plucking leaves. In amongst this were cattle and a range of crops I could not identify. There was also plenty of bush, but from the height of the bus I could sometimes see that it was only a narrow strip alongside the road.

The road signs notified ever smaller distances to Puerto Iguacu, but the numbers went down so slowly. We were not going to arrive at 6:30 as scheduled. I amused myself by estimating the arrival time, based on assumptions like "we will not leave the main road again". I had settled on 7:30 to 7:45 when the distance to go shrank dramatically. We went from 50-something kms to 30-something to 11 in about 5 minutes. I swear I am not making this up. And we did not fly. I was awake all the time. We actually pulled in to Puerrto Iguazu bus station at about 6:50. I cannot explain it.

Exploring the Iguacu Falls will have a post of its own.

In the hostel the Via Barloche bus company was given a big boost. My informant had been plied with champagne and whisky. This is more like it.

Extensive enquiries failed to find a direct bus to Rosario at a convenient time. The best arrangement I could make was an overnight bus to Santa Fe, from where there should be lots of buses to Rosario, just 2 hours down the road. Via Bariloche was one of the two offices that offered this deal so I booked there, of course.

But the booking clerk invited me to accompany her to the other office with a Santa Fe service to issue the ticket. It wasn´t a Via Bariloche bus. Never mind. It was still cama class, with fold-almost-flat seats. It will be good.

It was a Plus Ultra bus and the seats were great. They are only three across and I had selected the side with a single seat so I had a window view and direct access to the aisle. No climbing over other passengers this time.

We left promptly and I leaned back. This was travelling!

For the start of the journey we were played a selection of music videos. There was no meal immediately, but Argentinians dine late and we left at 7:30pm. There was a paper bag of chocolate bars in the meantime.

By the time the movie started I was hungry, so I dug into my pack. I always carry food. It was a good film, too. Not the usual C-grade action flick. And I do applaud showing an English-language film with Spanish subtitles. I could understand everything in the rather involved plot. By the time the movie ended it was apparent that our paper bag was all that the company was going to supply. I dug deeper into my bread rolls and cheese.

I didn´t sleep as well as I expected. The seat was certainly comfortable enough so I cannot explain it. I could almost lie on my side as on a real bed.

By the time it was fully light we were driving through very flat country. Another former sea bed I guess. There was lots of grazing land here. On one estancia I even saw rheas, the S. American relative of the ostrich. Since they were in a paddock I assume they were domesticated and therefore not a tick.

I breakfasted on treacly coffee and more cheese rolls.

The distances on road signs suggested that we were making good time to Parana, and Santa Fe is just across the river from there. And indeed we pulled into Parana Bus Terminal with a full hour to make Santa Fe on time. People got off. Other people got on. The bus rolled back and changed to forward gear - and stopped. Very slowly the driver edged us forward so that we were not blocking any other buses and switched the engine off. Que pasa?

This nearly new wonder-bus had broken down. It was, of course, a Sunday. If Plus Ultra maintains a workshop in Parana there was no sign of it. The driver and his conductor opened huge doors around the engine and disappeared weilding spanners. They spent a lot of time on their cellphones. Passengers ran into the bus station for sandwiches.

Half an hour after we should have arrived in Santa Fe I started investigating the possibility of another bus. Yes, there was a direct bus to Rosario leaving in half an hour. I don´t suppose the fare was much more from Parana than from Santa Fe. I collected my day pack from inside the bus and requested my big pack from the luggage compartment. At that moment the engine restarted with a roar. The conductor tried to dissuade me, but I had already bought my new ticket.

The San Jose bus was semi-cama but plenty comfortable enough for the two and a half hour run to Rosario. And this conductor came round with snacks, sweets and coffees. No grog though. And the bus didn´t break down.

Rosario was the location of the 2007 Golden Oldies Hockey Festival. I got to the Riviera Hotel and my Hampshire Harlequins team mates at 4pm, with three whole hours to get ready for the welcoming ceremony. Excellent timing.

I have since checked the Via Bariloche web site. They have a "super-cama" service between Buenos Aires and Bariloche. I wonder what extra services you get on that run?