Go
travelling, they said. It will be fun, they said.
We
were tempting fate when we breezily booked a seventeen-hour bus journey. “How
bad can it be?” Much cheaper than flights, far more eco-friendly, we weren’t
exactly in a rush and if we booked the overnight one, we saved on accommodation
and could sleep for most of the way.
Well,
I should point out that I’m the one writing this post because it’s still too
soon for Georgie. But: here’s a chronological recap of the past couple of days,
and exactly how bad it can be.
- We got caught in a tropical downpour
It
started with the thunderstorm. Downpours are a bit of an occupational hazard in
a rainforest zone like Brazil. I was in a convenience store about a minute away
from the hostel when this one broke out, the sky flashing so frequently it was
like Sao Paulo was under a giant strobe.
By
the time I returned with the biscuits and crisps, I was soaked.
- We got an Uber to the wrong bus station
We
caught the Uber (one of the safest and cheapest ways to get around the cities
here when you don’t want to lug backpacks around on a busy Metro) at 19:45 to
get to the station for 21:00, despite being advised that the journey takes
about half an hour.
We
were singing along to the radio, rain still pummelling down, when I noticed
that the estimated time of arrival at the bus station was 20:50. Station de
Tiete is the biggest bus terminal in the world, bar New York, so we decided
that this was enough of an emergency to pay for mobile data and try to find
what platform the bus was leaving from.
Only,
we couldn’t find the bus.
After
a little more research, we realised that the world-famous station was not the
only one in Sao Paulo.
Thankfully,
our inability to speak any Portuguese was compensated by our desperate
repetition of ‘Barra Fundra - the smaller station, and some exaggerated hand
gestures. The Uber driver switched the route, and the new arrival time was
20:56.
You
can imagine the anxiety levels.
- We barged through hundreds of people who, to our ignorance, were all fed up of waiting for their buses too
We
leapt out and sprinted into the station, considered waiting in a ticket queue
and thought it best to just to find the bus. We had online confirmation, after
all.
The
station was packed. Imagine weaving through the crowd at a festival. Now
imagine doing it with two backpacks - one on the front, one on the back - with
hiking boots and water bottles swinging back and forth.
The
bus, had in fact, not left at all. Via Google Translate, a kind woman told us
that there were delays. We were relieved! She helped me find where to print
tickets and helped us to the correct platform. A different lady told us the
delays, which had also impacted our Uber, were on account of a bridge that had
collapsed in the storm.
So
we waited, thrilled.
And
then we waited, less thrilled.
- While the average delay was between 1 and 3 hours, our bus was 7 hours late
There
were dance routines, there were foetal positions, there was reading and
doodling and raiding the snack bag. There were several ‘I’m just going to book
a hotel,’ ‘I’m not doing this,’ ‘I’m not staying here all night’s. There were
snuggles. There were conversations with some very sympathetic Brazilian people.
And
seven hours later, repeat, SEVEN HOURS later, after being curled up on the
floor in a bus station awaiting our SEVENTEEN-hour bus ride, it arrived.
4am
we set off, having been at the station all night. We arrived at Foz de Iguazu
at 1:30am the following day. We’d been messaging the host of our Airbnb with
updates on arrival times, but she didn’t reply once.
- We tried six different hotels, all full.
We
weren’t the only people on our bus to have been rejected by our pre-booked
accommodation, seeing as we were all arriving way after check-in time. Because
it’s a bank holiday this weekend in Brazil, the accommodation was heaving.
- We decided to cross the border to Argentina
Booking.com
told us there were some hostels still available half an hour away, in
Argentina. Lowkey nervous about going through immigration at 2am and not being
able to speak any Portuguese, we recruited some Danish boys. As mentioned in
our previous blog post, we like being strong independent women, but we also
appreciate that sometimes, having a male presence offers security. We were
super grateful to have them as we got our taxi through immigration, until:
- After three more hotels, we found a woman who had a room with five beds.
Great!
FINALLY! Except: there were six of us.
It
took a lot of clasping hands together in desperation, promising to be out as
soon as possible and offering to pay more before Georgie, Alex and I, at 4am,
squeezed up into one double bed, fully aware that we had to check out in 6
hours.
You
can imagine, it wasn’t the best night’s sleep.
So, whilst we had the most amazing time at Iguazu Falls which made the whole thing worth it, remember that we probably won’t be posting any photos on Instagram of our 28-hour stint to get there. Seeing the world is one of the most rewarding and breathtaking things ever, but it’s important to remember that budget-travelling is not all playing with elephants and bronzing in the sun and drinking coconut water!
So, whilst we had the most amazing time at Iguazu Falls which made the whole thing worth it, remember that we probably won’t be posting any photos on Instagram of our 28-hour stint to get there. Seeing the world is one of the most rewarding and breathtaking things ever, but it’s important to remember that budget-travelling is not all playing with elephants and bronzing in the sun and drinking coconut water!
Love,
Haze xxxxxx
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