Kyle Berg

Sunday afternoon I left Canela at 2 p.m. for Puerto Alegre. The trip was peaceful and we passed through the beautiful hills of the surrounding area. We pulled into Puerto Alegre and it was obvious that this was a much larger city and had much more poverty that the small towns I had visited. There were shantytowns, or favelas, along the highway before the bus station. For the hour before my transfer, I watched over my things like a mother bear guarding her cubs. My problem with losing pens once again left me without a writing instrument. So I went to a kiosk and had to do a bit of charading, but they eventually understood and I had myself a cheap pen for journaling.

Being tall, I always hope no one sits next to me on a bus or plane. But our bus was packed and that wasn’t going to happen. When a man sat next to me, I thought, “Oh great!” We sat in silence for the first few minutes after pulling out of Puerto Alegre. I then got up to grab my grocery bag and made myself a turkey sandwich. I offered my seatmate a sandwich, but he politely declined. This broke the ice and we ended up talking the rest of the trip. Gustavo was from Buenos Aires and it was amazing how well we got along. It was nice to talk in Spanish again after maintaining silence most of the time and only speaking when necessary because of my incompetence in Portuguese. We talked about Argentina, his travels to the U.S., relationships, and many other things.

Around 2:30 a.m., we spent an hour passing through customs. First everyone got off and presented their exit paper and document to the agent who seemed intent upon reading every detail as if studying for the SATs. Next it was on to the Argentine entry office. Here I dropped off my passport and they returned it to me later. We got back on the bus, only to have to get off and grab our luggage for inspection. I didn’t have any problems and was glad I had packed light.

Back on the road, the remainder of the trip was more comfortable as about half the bus had gotten off just before the border. Also, the terrible smell coming from the bathroom wasn’t quite as bad as before, although it did show its ugly head from time to time. We slept, woke up, slept some more, and talked the rest of the trip. Close by, there was a beautiful middle age woman from the island of Florianopolis. At first I assumed she was rather cold, based on her demeanor. But she turned out to be friendly and joined in conversation, sometimes in Portuguese and sometimes in Spanish. Toward the end of the trip, Gustavo offered to let me spend Christmas or the New Year with he and his family at a place along the coast, south of Buenos Aires. I thanked him for the kind offer and told him I would probably be traveling, but if not, I would love to join them. We said goodbye at the Retiro train station and I was welcomed back to BA with a half hour train delay, causing a zoo on the platform. I was already thinking about when I could leave for Patagonia.