The Long Bus Ride

Salta Travel Blog

 › entry 19 of 38 › view all entries
I saw the waterfalls on my first day in Iguazu and spent my next two days soaking in the warmth beside the resort sized pool, playing pick up sports, and meeting people from all over the world. English was definately the predominant language and to be honest it felt like my trip had changed from South American adventure to spring break in Mexico for a few days. I met lots of nice people including a girl from Montreal, Marie Claude, who will arrive at my hostel in Salta in a few days.
My trip to Salta was a long and rather illogical bus ride. My original bus ticket from Iguazu only took me as far as San Ignacio, about 4 hours south of Iguazu, but I didn't even get off of the bus. It was pelting down rain as my bus pulled off onto the dirt (dirt plus rain equals mud) shoulder. There wasn't a bus station and I didn't relish the idea of wandering around the ruins with my big pack on in the pouring rain for a few hours. So, I stayed on the bus to Posadas. It was still raining in Posadas so I asked around at the ticket booths for tickets to Salta *and possibly a bus to Chaco National Park*. No buses were going directly to Salta until the following day but a bus was leaving for Tucuman in 20 minutes. I got on it and rode Semi Cama for 17 hours to Tucuman. Even though it was semi cama and I did not get the front seat (which gives you bonus leg room) I slept better than on any of my previous bus rides. I think it was because I had so long on the bus I could get a full night's sleep without worrying about missing my stop. I quite enjoy the long bus rides and don't find them torturous at all (well except maybe for the choice of movies. In the last 2 days I have watched, or half watched, 7 of the stupidest movies I have ever encountered.) In the middle of the night we passed by some sort of festival. There were cars and buses full of people parked in the dark, in the mud on the side of the road for miles and miles. The crowd was young people, old people, men and women. It was very strange. I arrived in Tucuman at 9 am on Sunday morning. It was raining and cold. I had breakfast (a breakfast completo here consists of 2 croissants, a cup of coffee, a glass of mineral water, and a glass of orange juice) and spoke with some girls from England who had just come from Bolivia. I couldn't find any information in the station on what to do in Tucuman and since I hadn't planned to go there I was a bit at a loss. I ended up buying a bus ticket to Salta *another 5 hours*. By the time I reached the hostel in Salta I had been travelling for 31 hours straight (all semi cama) and felt strangely rested.
The nationalities of the hostel guests in Salta differ greatly from the guests in Iguazu. There are many Argentinians here, as well as, Swiss, Israelis, and Mexicans. I was told when I checked in that there were two people from Quebec staying at the hostel and I was pleasantly surprised to discover that they were friends of mine from the hostel in Cordoba. Marie Claude arrives on Wednesday so maybe I will take some more Spanish lessons in the mean time.   
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photo by: wvijvers