As Hoff described at the end of her last post, the afternoon of the 18th December was a bit of a miserable one. Having discovered that every single long distance bus was full until after Christmas, and with no other viable alternatives presenting themselves, we were resigning ourselves to Christmas spent in San Pedro. This would have meant missing out on Iguazu Falls and Buenos Aires, not to mention a lot of wasted money that we had already spent on flights and accommodation. Just as we got to the point of giving up, we suddenly had a brain wave. What if we could somehow get to the border into Argentina, hitchhike to a nearby town and then get a local bus to Salta? We had three days spare and surely that was enough time? We decided we’d give it a crack as what was the worst that could happen?
As Hoff also mentioned, we bumped into a German couple who were in a similar situation. They had reservations in Salta for Christmas so needed to get there too in the coming days. We agreed that we would split the cost of a taxi to the border and then chance our luck the other side. The only issue was that they had already booked a tour the next day. Therefore we spent the following day relaxing in the hostel, reading our books and writing blog posts, as we waited for our pick up the next morning. We’d heard that it isn’t exactly 100% legit for taxis to drop you at the border, but the story seemed to change from person to person. Our fixer said they did it all the time, so on the morning of the 20th December we all piled into the 4×4 confident we’d get across, but slightly nervous nevertheless.
Two and a bit hours later we arrived at the crossing into Argentina. We said bye and thanks to our driver, and then grabbed all our gear and walked to the border station. To our surprise it was very easy to cross, once we had all the stamps, and it seemed like crossing on foot was a common thing to do. We whizzed through – aided by the fact that all the lorries seemed to be queuing up to get through so the officials were twiddling their thumbs – and 30 mins later we walked out into the Argentinian side of the pass. So far, so good. It did help that our German friend spoke fluent Spanish but we had our tails up and figured that maybe this would be easier than we had thought.
That confidence didn’t last long. Wandering into the nearby petrol station we set about trying to find a lift at least in the direction of Salta. We’d heard that you could ask the petrol attendants to ask passing lorry drivers for a lift. However, many of the lorries were still stuck at the border. Whilst we worked out that to do, Hoff went and stood by the road with our home made sign asking passing car drivers for a lift. There she got talking to another fellow would-be hitchhiker. He told her that he had been there since 9am the previous day and that the border was basically closed to lorries for some reason. He said he had tried and failed all day to get a lift, but to no avail. Hoff came back with the news and we felt dejected. However we’d also heard stories of locals taking people into the nearest town for a fee, so we set about wangling ourselves a ride. Eventually, having spoken to another petrol attendant, we managed to bag a lift. Some swift negotiations later and we all piled into a pickup truck. Sitting four across the back seat – we’d felt sorry for the other hitchhiker so gave him a space in our ride – we were soon on our way to the nearby (by nearby I mean 3 hours/250km away) town where we’d been promised we could get a bus on to Salta.
3 hot and cramped hours later and we arrived into Pumamaca. We’d been told we could get a bus here towards Salta, and sure enough we managed to grab a seat on the bus to Jujuy. It was filled with locals and then packed to bursting point about twenty minutes later when we pulled over to pick up passengers from another bus that had broken down. We were bursting at the seams with people and their Christmas presents, all heading back to the cities for the holidays. That all meant that we arrived forty minutes late and were in danger of missing our connection on to Salta. Luckily we found that there were more buses running that way than we thought, and after a Hoff and I had had a mini disagreement about whether to pay with cash or card (when you’re tired you tend to have silly arguments about absolutely nothing!) we managed to get a late afternoon bus for the two and a bit hours to Salta.
We finally pulled into the Salta bus terminal around 9pm. We’d been on the move for 14 hours and were travelled out. We just wanted a shower and to be able to sleep out of the sitting position. In the pouring rain we went to the taxi rank and managed to persuade the taxi controller that all four of us plus our huge bags would fit in a small taxi. He didn’t seem convinced at first but we proved him wrong as we crammed like sardines into a tiny cab. With the suspension creaking and exhaust pipe basically touching the ground, we got to the hostel that the Germans had booked and, knocking on the door, prayed they’d have space for us two as well. Luckily they did, and we plumped for a private room – a bunk bed in the eight person dorm just didn’t appeal to us – and after a shower we quickly headed out into the town to get some food. We had an amazing pulled pork bun and a couple of well deserved beers before we called it a night and went back to the hostel to sleep, lying down, and stationary for the first time in almost 18 hours!
Up next – Hoff takes you through our time in Puerto Iguazu and then on to Buenos Aires.
The Hoffick's RTW adventure travel blog 