The double deck bus sped through the moonless night, connecting Argentina’s northern provincial capitals – rough-edged Jujuy, colonial Salta, work-a-day Tucuman and the university city of Cordoba, in the country’s heartland.
Through my curtained window, the countryside was a dark, deserted mystery. But as we passed through occasional towns, I felt warmed by Sunday night family gatherings on dusty colonnaded porches, couples strolling along dirt streets under widely spaced streetlights, and surreal small-town bus stations teeming with travellers on their way to other facets of their lives.
My compartment – classe ejecutivo – was on the lower level; nine over-stuffed, black vinyl lazy-boy seats facing a flat screen monitor that warned us the on-board toilet only “recycled” liquids. For the first few hours, we had little choice but to watch Sandra Bullock adopt a black football player and Kate Hudson lose her body to a Louisiana Hoodoo spirit, dubbed and sub-titled in Spanish.
The ‘attendant made an appearance twice, to frantically mop aisle for dirt we couldn’t see.
The meal service started with a yellow cafeteria tray that we were to balance on our laps and a tin tray of cold cuts, plastic wrapped bread sticks, and a sealed container that might be either congealed gravy or chocolate pudding (the label listed ingredients that include “bones”). The ‘hot’ dish was a pound of buttery mashed potatoes and a sliver of boiled chicken. The “bebida” was a ‘gaseosa’ that turned out to be a splash of Pepsi in a Styrofoam cup. We were then left to balance the remnants on our laps for an hour while the ‘economy class’ passengers upstairs were served the same menu.
It was like some strange, half-lit, moving dungeon that we were locked into, subjected to bad American culture made worse by bad dubbing, at the mercy of the whims of a frantic, unpredictable keeper, denied basic washroom facilities. It didn’t feel like a luxury bus!
Thankfully, the magic of a little blue pill put me to sleep through half of the 13 hour trip. I awoke refreshed, but in need of a shower, and a ‘bano’ that “recycled” other substances than liquids. I could just imagine the condition of those who had another 24 hours to go on the bus before it reached it’s final destination south of Buenos Aires!
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