34 hours from Bariloche to Salta

In the United States, it seems people rarely take buses long distances. With flights costing less than the price of fuel, the Greyhound seems designated for the fringes of society. It’s the places where an unshaven man with brandy on his breath falls asleep on your shoulder.

Yet in other parts of the world, the bus is the main form of transportation for trips great and small. And in Argentina, bus travel has been elevated to an almost sublime art form, catering to all sorts of people, sober and other.

As Erin and I boarded our first 17-hour bus ride from Bariloche to Mendoza, we were braced for the worst. Feeling a bit under the weather already, I foolishly declined to bring anything stronger than water to drink. Eight hours later, I was regretting this decision as I stared another nine hours in the face.

That said the bus was quite comfortable. Even deluxe by US standards. We had leather seats that reclined to 150 degrees (I took their word for it), movies on the screen up front and a relatively functional bathroom.

I say “relatively” because of the nuanced sign hung over the toilet, “Solo pipi, no popo.” Even a Spanish novice like me could get the gist of this subtle message. Claustrophobia set in.

When the chicken and rice under tinfoil was served, I couldn’t get the sign out of my mind. “No gracias,” I demurred. “Well OK, just a little.” Actually, the food was quite good by mass transit standards. And the portions were hearty enough to put us to sleep for a few merciful hours. 17 hours seemed to pass like a flash of cold molasses. We arrived in Mendoza bleary-eyed and in need of a nap, but otherwise ready for wine tasting.

With fate smiling upon us, three days later we had the opportunity to board another 17-hour bus ride from Mendoza to Salta. This time, I was better prepared with a bottle of Finca Flichman’s finest Cabernet on hand. And to make things even better, our seats on this bus reclined to a full 180 degrees, 30 more than the previous bus. And speaking from experience, it’s a precious 30.

As opposed to our first long ride, we slept like babies on this bus. Flat is so much better than reclined when it comes to sleep. And with The Departed on the screen up front, we had some enjoyable viewing in the cuss-filled cabin as well.

Even so, we arrived in Salta feeling a bit ragged. In some ways, a deluxe bus ride is a bit like a first-class surgery. Sure you get good food and a comfortable bed, but you still want it to be over and don’t feel that great at the end.

Now from our perch in Salta at the top of Argentina, we have only bus memories. We have now traversed the country from the southern tip of Tierra del Fuego to the northern fringes by Bolivia. From here, we are flying back to Buenos Aires in two hours.