Tuesday. 12:00. I leave Bariloche and begin the longest bus ride of my life (I hope). There are three passengers, including Rose and I.
12:01. A movie consisting of terrible 80s music videos begins. Rose covers the screen with her jacket.
12:08. I see the biggest eagle I’ve ever seen in my life, the size of a large sitting dog.
12:30. Gorgeous views of lakes and mountains. I really want to go hiking or camping or kayaking, but I just have to enjoy the views from the bus.
12:45. “Love Hurts.” Actually, Nazareth hurts.
14:00. A terrible Adam Sandler movie starts. Rose tries to watch it.
14:04. Rose covers the screen with her jacket.
14:30. There’s a fly buzzing in my window.
15:00. The landscape changes from lush mountains to dry steppes.
15:30. We drive on the left side of the road for long stretches to avoid potholes.
15:32. There is still a fly buzzing in my window.
16:00. I kill the fly and eat it to celebrate. Kidding.
16:40. We stop at a small bus station for our first break. Rose starts walking into the men’s room before I save her.
17:00. Rose starts watching an American movie dubbed in Spanish with English subtitles.
17:48. Rose says she still has no idea what’s going on in the movie.
17:51. Matt Damon sends a text while his phone is in his pocket. Only Matt Damon.
20:05. Rodrigo, one of the drivers, asks if we want to watch a movie. We’re pretty happy that we have the power to choose. We pore over a folder full of pirated movies, all labeled either “action” or “comedy.” We pick Babel, which is labeled “action” even though it is definitely not.
8:30. I wake up just in time to see the pink and yellow dawn over the steppe.
8:45. We stop for a break. There is still no soap in the bathrooms. I haven’t seen soap since Bariloche. Thank God Rose brought hand sanitizer.
9:02. We cross a little river that is gorgeous in the golden morning. I see two white swans with black necks that are incredibly small, maybe eight inches tall, but they don’t look downy like chicks. Maybe we were just really high up and I didn’t realize?? Is there such thing as a miniature swan?
9:42. There are no more cows. I see guanacos, rheas, and sheep.
10:18. Another fly!
11:40. There’s a sign that says Calafate to the right and Río Gallegos to the left. We go left. I get a little nervous.
12:00. We change buses in Río Gallegos, and now we don’t have the cool seats at the front. One of the drivers has the worst case of Tourette’s that I’ve ever seen. I wonder if that affects his ability to drive.
14:15. My iPod dies right before finishing a podcast.
16:38. We arrive in Calafate! And now the adventure begins.
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View from my Calafate hostel window.
I don’t like the Calafate hostel as much as the Bariloche hostel. It’s too big and there’s too much English. Everyone speaks English. Almost everyone is British. Argentina must be a trendy destination for Brits or something, because I’ve hardly met any Americans on this trip but I’ve met lots of Brits. Anyway, as I was saying, it’s a far cry from the last hostel, where we were often the only ones around. But it’s definitely comfortable and they’re helpful in booking tours and stuff.
Today we saw the fantastic Perito Moreno, the most famous glacier. It’s soooo big! I heard it thundering a couple times, but never saw the ice breaking. We saw it both from a boat and from viewing platforms on the shore. It’s possible to walk on it, but it costs way more and tomorrow’s tour is more expensive so we opted for the cheaper option today. Tomorrow we’re going to see a bunch more glaciers from a boat.
It’s super cold all the way down here, not surprisingly. It snowed a lot today, which is why the pictures are so grey. My fingers were frozen stiff, even with gloves. I need to re-wire those things, something’s faulty. I’m very glad I bought a ski coat before we came south.
The oddest thing about the glacier park was that the tourist café had signs EVERYWHERE saying, “You can’t eat your own food in the café or on our balconies.” Which was cruel when it was snowing outside and there was nowhere to sit and my fingers were frozen! We just ate it in there anyway, no one noticed. But I was surprised by the signs—they were on the entrances, on the bathroom mirrors, and on each table. I haven’t seen an establishment be so anal since coming to Argentina!
Later we went to a cute café/bar called Borges that had literary quotes on the walls and drinks named after famous authors. Then we came home and had some more of the calabaza soup that I made yesterday (which tasted ok, but the texture needs some more practice). Soup is so good when it’s so cold!
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