A bit of excitement on the way to Cordoba
I had a pretty interesting day on my bus trip from Buenos Aires to Cordoba. It wasn’t good… but it wasn’t so terrible either.
It started early in the morning – I left my hotel at 4:45 AM, walked a block to a bus stop and took a city bus to the bus station for a 6 AM departure. I had 40 minutes to kill at the bus terminal, but it seems to be a 24/7 kind of place. I found an open café and had a cappuccino and a medialuna, which is a small, sweet croissant. I’d actually bought two croissants, but a young man came around begging for food, so I gave him one. I don’t feel so good about handing out money, but if someone is legitimately hungry, they’ll appreciate food. And he did.
The cappuccino kind of sucked. I asked for it to be extra strong, but in Argentina, whenever you order a coffee drink with milk in it, you get mostly milk and just enough coffee to make it off-white. And, they gave me 3 huge packets of sugar for that one cappuccino. It was like 30 grams of sugar. People here like sweet, hot milk, I think. They don’t care much about the coffee.
So, the bus was okay. I had someone in the seat beside me for about two hours, but it was empty for the next two. Having that extra seat is always nice. But the seats… well, they LOOKED nice. It was a very new bus, and the seats were a lush looking pleather. Quite comfortable until I reclined the seat – and then I slipped right out of it. Just slippery things! I guess if you wore rubber pants, or maybe even short shorts, then the seat might work in a reclined state?
So, I sat up. And when the seat beside me was empty, I sat sideways. The climate control was exceptional, so that was much appreciated. Much of the time, the busses are too hot or too cold.
And the bus stopped at EVERY SINGLE TOWN along the way. Every stop was 5-10 minutes. People got off to have a smoke, some to use the bathroom or buy snacks, some were at their destination. And of course, there were always new people getting on. And before leaving a station, one of the drivers would come upstairs and do a headcount. And then we’d pull away and I’d kick myself for not getting off to at least stretch my legs.
And so, around noon – 6 hours into my 11 hour trip – I had to go to the bathroom. And I had two options: clean the seat of the toilet on the bus (because it will definitely be covered in pee), OR get off at the next station and use the probably cleaner bathrooms there. And I should emphasize that the busses have really, really gross toilets. On one of my trips, there was blue sanitizer fluid all over the walls, toilet and floor. I mean, I think you’d have to roll the bus to make that kind of mess. Not only that, but the sinks don’t always have running water. And, you really do have to sit to pee, or you’ll end up slamming into the gross walls anyway.
So, we pulled into a bus station, and I got off as soon as the door opened. I told the driver I was going to use the bathroom, and there were 3 people lined up to put luggage in the hold before boarding. But I didn’t dawdle. I ran to the bathroom, just 20 meters away, and was delighted to see it was just cleaned. The floors and toilet seats were still wet. I ripped my pants off and proceeded to urinate. I had been off the bus about 90 seconds, my bladder was half empty, and I heard “beep, beep, beep…” the sound of a bus backing up. And… my bus was the only bus at the station. My heart sank. I finished up as fast as I could, splashed water on my hands, and ran out of the bathroom while still doing up my pants. The bus was gone.
So, I panicked a little. And I told the woman at the ticket counter (the only one at this little station) that my bus had left without me. She told me to wait. I didn’t really think “wait” was the right answer. The bus crawls along at 20 km an hour through town, and I had thought to jump in a taxi and catch it. Wasn’t sure how to get it to stop and let me board though... But the ticketing agent was calm, so I forced myself to be calm too. FORTUNATELY, I had my small backpack with me – my wallet, computer, passport, bus ticket – all of my essentials. But the pocket where I usually put my mobile phone was empty. I had a second panic attack when I thought I’d left my mobile phone on the seat. I wouldn’t normally leave my phone, but maybe I’d done it this once? I tore through the big compartment in my backpack, heart beating a little too hard and fast, and then I found my phone. I took a deep breath and realized all was well. My big backpack with my trekking gear and all of my clothes was still on my bus, as was a jacket I left on my seat, but I could live if I lost it all. None of it was essential.
The ticketing agent was on the phone. She seemed to be on hold, or waiting for someone to pick up on the other end, but I just waited… Eventually, I saw her talking to someone on the other end. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but it looked like a rather conversation if I could judge from her facial expression.
When she got off the phone, we had a half Spanish, half English conversation. She explained that they would take my luggage off at the next station and put me on the next bus. And I said I’d left a jacket on my seat. She said no problem. She took a photo of my ticket (with my seat number) and my baggage tag (I guess those come in handy!). She sent that to the next station. About a half hour after being abandoned by my bus, she informed me they had my bag and my jacket and that I was to pick it up at the next station. The next station was in a town called Armstrong. But… the way they pronounce it sounds nothing like Armstrong to me. But I confirmed it on a map on my phone. And she gave me a new seat number for the next bus. I thanked her and told her that I very much appreciated her help. She told me it was no problem. We talked a little bit. She wanted to know where I was from, what parts of Argentina I had seen and what I liked the most.
Busses run every 2 hours, so I had another hour and a half to kill. I got something to eat and drink, charged my phone a bit, crushed some candies and hung out with the dogs at the station. I think they were stray dogs just hanging out inside and enjoying the AC. But they were too short to trigger the motion sensors on the doors, so I helped them out a couple of times.
It started early in the morning – I left my hotel at 4:45 AM, walked a block to a bus stop and took a city bus to the bus station for a 6 AM departure. I had 40 minutes to kill at the bus terminal, but it seems to be a 24/7 kind of place. I found an open café and had a cappuccino and a medialuna, which is a small, sweet croissant. I’d actually bought two croissants, but a young man came around begging for food, so I gave him one. I don’t feel so good about handing out money, but if someone is legitimately hungry, they’ll appreciate food. And he did.
The cappuccino kind of sucked. I asked for it to be extra strong, but in Argentina, whenever you order a coffee drink with milk in it, you get mostly milk and just enough coffee to make it off-white. And, they gave me 3 huge packets of sugar for that one cappuccino. It was like 30 grams of sugar. People here like sweet, hot milk, I think. They don’t care much about the coffee.
So, the bus was okay. I had someone in the seat beside me for about two hours, but it was empty for the next two. Having that extra seat is always nice. But the seats… well, they LOOKED nice. It was a very new bus, and the seats were a lush looking pleather. Quite comfortable until I reclined the seat – and then I slipped right out of it. Just slippery things! I guess if you wore rubber pants, or maybe even short shorts, then the seat might work in a reclined state?
So, I sat up. And when the seat beside me was empty, I sat sideways. The climate control was exceptional, so that was much appreciated. Much of the time, the busses are too hot or too cold.
And the bus stopped at EVERY SINGLE TOWN along the way. Every stop was 5-10 minutes. People got off to have a smoke, some to use the bathroom or buy snacks, some were at their destination. And of course, there were always new people getting on. And before leaving a station, one of the drivers would come upstairs and do a headcount. And then we’d pull away and I’d kick myself for not getting off to at least stretch my legs.
And so, around noon – 6 hours into my 11 hour trip – I had to go to the bathroom. And I had two options: clean the seat of the toilet on the bus (because it will definitely be covered in pee), OR get off at the next station and use the probably cleaner bathrooms there. And I should emphasize that the busses have really, really gross toilets. On one of my trips, there was blue sanitizer fluid all over the walls, toilet and floor. I mean, I think you’d have to roll the bus to make that kind of mess. Not only that, but the sinks don’t always have running water. And, you really do have to sit to pee, or you’ll end up slamming into the gross walls anyway.
So, we pulled into a bus station, and I got off as soon as the door opened. I told the driver I was going to use the bathroom, and there were 3 people lined up to put luggage in the hold before boarding. But I didn’t dawdle. I ran to the bathroom, just 20 meters away, and was delighted to see it was just cleaned. The floors and toilet seats were still wet. I ripped my pants off and proceeded to urinate. I had been off the bus about 90 seconds, my bladder was half empty, and I heard “beep, beep, beep…” the sound of a bus backing up. And… my bus was the only bus at the station. My heart sank. I finished up as fast as I could, splashed water on my hands, and ran out of the bathroom while still doing up my pants. The bus was gone.
So, I panicked a little. And I told the woman at the ticket counter (the only one at this little station) that my bus had left without me. She told me to wait. I didn’t really think “wait” was the right answer. The bus crawls along at 20 km an hour through town, and I had thought to jump in a taxi and catch it. Wasn’t sure how to get it to stop and let me board though... But the ticketing agent was calm, so I forced myself to be calm too. FORTUNATELY, I had my small backpack with me – my wallet, computer, passport, bus ticket – all of my essentials. But the pocket where I usually put my mobile phone was empty. I had a second panic attack when I thought I’d left my mobile phone on the seat. I wouldn’t normally leave my phone, but maybe I’d done it this once? I tore through the big compartment in my backpack, heart beating a little too hard and fast, and then I found my phone. I took a deep breath and realized all was well. My big backpack with my trekking gear and all of my clothes was still on my bus, as was a jacket I left on my seat, but I could live if I lost it all. None of it was essential.
The ticketing agent was on the phone. She seemed to be on hold, or waiting for someone to pick up on the other end, but I just waited… Eventually, I saw her talking to someone on the other end. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but it looked like a rather conversation if I could judge from her facial expression.
When she got off the phone, we had a half Spanish, half English conversation. She explained that they would take my luggage off at the next station and put me on the next bus. And I said I’d left a jacket on my seat. She said no problem. She took a photo of my ticket (with my seat number) and my baggage tag (I guess those come in handy!). She sent that to the next station. About a half hour after being abandoned by my bus, she informed me they had my bag and my jacket and that I was to pick it up at the next station. The next station was in a town called Armstrong. But… the way they pronounce it sounds nothing like Armstrong to me. But I confirmed it on a map on my phone. And she gave me a new seat number for the next bus. I thanked her and told her that I very much appreciated her help. She told me it was no problem. We talked a little bit. She wanted to know where I was from, what parts of Argentina I had seen and what I liked the most.
Busses run every 2 hours, so I had another hour and a half to kill. I got something to eat and drink, charged my phone a bit, crushed some candies and hung out with the dogs at the station. I think they were stray dogs just hanging out inside and enjoying the AC. But they were too short to trigger the motion sensors on the doors, so I helped them out a couple of times.
My bus station buddies
The next bus came, 10 minutes behind schedule. The ticket agent explained my situation to the bus driver and I added that I needed to retrieve my backpack at the next station, which she repeated in better Spanish. I thanked the ticket agent yet again and she wished me a good trip.
My new bus was older, but it was really empty and the old, cloth seats were more comfortable. I could recline without ending up on the floor.
I got my bag at the next station. I made sure to tell the driver to wait for me, but he actually followed me to the ticket booth and watched me retrieve my backpack. They did indeed have my jacket too. They laughed at me when I picked it up, but I deserved it, I guess. The driver put my backpack in the luggage compartment, and I got back on the bus, finally able to relax. And I reclined my seat and fell asleep.
The journey seemed to be going okay, for a few hours. But then I realized, the bus was moving very slow. And then I noticed we were driving on the shoulder. After another 20 minutes, the bus geared down and slowed down even more. By 6 pm, we were supposed to be getting close to Cordoba, but according to Google, we were still pretty far away. And we kept going slower, and slower. And then the bus stalled. I’m guessing it was overheating. One of the drivers came up and said something to someone, but I didn’t hear it, and I didn’t think I needed to know. We’d get there when we got there. I was just happy to have my luggage.
The bus started back up a couple of minutes later, and we proceeded to crawl along on the shoulder of the highway. Eventually, we got into Cordoba, and the bus stalled again, and again, and again. We ended up in the middle of an intersection – cars honking at us from all sides. When the got the bus started, they only managed to get out of the intersection before it stalled again – maybe for the last time. And that was the point where the next bus (2 hours behind us) had caught up. It pulled over and those of us getting off in Cordoba were moved to the new bus. They stuffed us and our luggage into the aisle of the main floor for the short trip. It took about 15 minutes to get to the bus terminal. Not sure what they did with the rest of the people on the stalled bus. They probably had a replacement coming.
So, I arrived 4 hours behind schedule. It was already dark. And I was tired. But off I went, looking for a hotel or hostel. I had a hostel selected on my phone, not far from the terminal, but when I got there, the sign was dark and broken and the door was boarded up. I kept walking. I went past about 5 hotels that had a sign on the door saying they were full. And I asked at another 5 if they had any rooms and they said no. Things weren’t looking good. So, I gave up my foot search and went to booking.com to find a room. There really wasn’t much available. It’s high season and I think something like 85% of hotels were full. I found an “apartment” that was kind of expensive, but among the cheaper options had okay reviews, so I booked it on my phone and set off in that direction. But I gave up halfway there. I was tired so I flagged down a taxi and got him to drive me the rest of the way. He didn’t know the place, but I gave him the address. When we got to the right block, he was asking people on the street what the addresses of the buildings were, and we couldn’t see any sign of it. But there were people on the street that wanted a taxi, and he pulled over. According to Google, my hotel was at the end of the block, so I said that we could stop here. I’m pretty sure the taxi driver asked, “the brothel?” in English. And when I looked up, I could see some ladies of the night standing on the sidewalk. I just said “bueno”, paid him and got out. My hotel was at the end of the block.
Anyway, my apartment turned out to be much cheaper than I was expecting because I was able to pay in cash. It was a pretty nice place, old and run down and the shower sucked, but it was clean. While the street it was on wasn’t very nice, it was very close to the center of town.
And Cordoba is a nice town at night. There are lots of nice buildings and churches all lit up. People flock to the plazas after dark. Sunday night there were people dancing in several of the plazas. Steamy tangos with some really advanced moves. Other people stood and sat around watching the dancers. And of course, when the sun goes down, 30 Celsius is a little more tolerable.
I don’t have much more to say about Cordoba. It’s the second largest city in Argentina and it isn’t much different from Buenos Aires. And all of the museums were closed because of Covid. It’s one of the few cities in Argentina that has a different payment system for transit, and I didn’t want to acquire a new transit card for just one city, so I stuck with walking and didn’t go too far because of the heat.
My new bus was older, but it was really empty and the old, cloth seats were more comfortable. I could recline without ending up on the floor.
I got my bag at the next station. I made sure to tell the driver to wait for me, but he actually followed me to the ticket booth and watched me retrieve my backpack. They did indeed have my jacket too. They laughed at me when I picked it up, but I deserved it, I guess. The driver put my backpack in the luggage compartment, and I got back on the bus, finally able to relax. And I reclined my seat and fell asleep.
The journey seemed to be going okay, for a few hours. But then I realized, the bus was moving very slow. And then I noticed we were driving on the shoulder. After another 20 minutes, the bus geared down and slowed down even more. By 6 pm, we were supposed to be getting close to Cordoba, but according to Google, we were still pretty far away. And we kept going slower, and slower. And then the bus stalled. I’m guessing it was overheating. One of the drivers came up and said something to someone, but I didn’t hear it, and I didn’t think I needed to know. We’d get there when we got there. I was just happy to have my luggage.
The bus started back up a couple of minutes later, and we proceeded to crawl along on the shoulder of the highway. Eventually, we got into Cordoba, and the bus stalled again, and again, and again. We ended up in the middle of an intersection – cars honking at us from all sides. When the got the bus started, they only managed to get out of the intersection before it stalled again – maybe for the last time. And that was the point where the next bus (2 hours behind us) had caught up. It pulled over and those of us getting off in Cordoba were moved to the new bus. They stuffed us and our luggage into the aisle of the main floor for the short trip. It took about 15 minutes to get to the bus terminal. Not sure what they did with the rest of the people on the stalled bus. They probably had a replacement coming.
So, I arrived 4 hours behind schedule. It was already dark. And I was tired. But off I went, looking for a hotel or hostel. I had a hostel selected on my phone, not far from the terminal, but when I got there, the sign was dark and broken and the door was boarded up. I kept walking. I went past about 5 hotels that had a sign on the door saying they were full. And I asked at another 5 if they had any rooms and they said no. Things weren’t looking good. So, I gave up my foot search and went to booking.com to find a room. There really wasn’t much available. It’s high season and I think something like 85% of hotels were full. I found an “apartment” that was kind of expensive, but among the cheaper options had okay reviews, so I booked it on my phone and set off in that direction. But I gave up halfway there. I was tired so I flagged down a taxi and got him to drive me the rest of the way. He didn’t know the place, but I gave him the address. When we got to the right block, he was asking people on the street what the addresses of the buildings were, and we couldn’t see any sign of it. But there were people on the street that wanted a taxi, and he pulled over. According to Google, my hotel was at the end of the block, so I said that we could stop here. I’m pretty sure the taxi driver asked, “the brothel?” in English. And when I looked up, I could see some ladies of the night standing on the sidewalk. I just said “bueno”, paid him and got out. My hotel was at the end of the block.
Anyway, my apartment turned out to be much cheaper than I was expecting because I was able to pay in cash. It was a pretty nice place, old and run down and the shower sucked, but it was clean. While the street it was on wasn’t very nice, it was very close to the center of town.
And Cordoba is a nice town at night. There are lots of nice buildings and churches all lit up. People flock to the plazas after dark. Sunday night there were people dancing in several of the plazas. Steamy tangos with some really advanced moves. Other people stood and sat around watching the dancers. And of course, when the sun goes down, 30 Celsius is a little more tolerable.
I don’t have much more to say about Cordoba. It’s the second largest city in Argentina and it isn’t much different from Buenos Aires. And all of the museums were closed because of Covid. It’s one of the few cities in Argentina that has a different payment system for transit, and I didn’t want to acquire a new transit card for just one city, so I stuck with walking and didn’t go too far because of the heat.
Cordoba at night
Iglesia del Sagrado Corazon de Jesus
And now, I’m in Mendoza, on my way to the Andes again. I want to see Aconcagua. It’s the highest mountain in both the Western and Southern hemispheres. One of the Seven Summits – the highest mountains of each continent. It’s also climbing season. But… there is no way I’m going to be able to get close. Guided tours are required just to hike to the first of the base camps, and I am NOT paying $500 USD for a day hike. So… I’ll take a bus and get as close as possible for $5, thank you very much.