Pucon (long read)

Bariloche to Pucon.

This morning we are on the way to Pucon, Chile. Yesterday we failed (not without trying) to pre book tickets to Orsorno. From there we would get a bus to Pucon. That was the plan anyway. We tried online, calling their office and even taking a cab to the bus station in Bariloche the night before but no luck. With the lack of ticket in hand we decided to keep faith and adopt the simple strategy of get early and get the first bus out of town.

We arrived at the bus terminal next morning over an hour before our bus was due to leave. It was  quiet and the bus company office window is not yet open for business. There is nobody in the queue for tickets so no rush we think. Time to purchase Oreo’s for breakfast as options were limited.  A short while later a solitary traveller waiting for the same bus waits in the queue. No rush still it seems, it’s quiet. We’re in the queue now ready to buy our tickets. 20 minutes to go but no sign of the salesman. Finally after 10 minutes we have service and our solo traveller purchases his ticket. I ask for mine, two to be precise. Don’t think he understands. I must have slipped into ‘brummy’. A negative hand gesture suggests it’s not good news. Counting the fingers he has up and making out his actions, it turns out there’s only one ticket left. But there’s two of us. Do the math.

This situation was  a tad frustrating as not only could we have beaten the other traveller to both tickets,  we’d seen an earlier bus go towards our destination but we decided to choose this company as they were Chilean and thought it may have been easier with them to proceed onto our Chilean destination.

Determined to get out of Bariloche we found another bus company that went to another destination but was also a hub to get the connection to Pucon. All wasn’t lost and we had some faith restored, especially as when we boarded we found that the bus would actually arrive in Los Andes de San Martin earlier than expected and this gave us renewed hope as that would. put us in a strong position to  catch the connecting bus to Pucon.

After a 4 hr bus ride trying to sleep, read and master the art of spending a penny on moving bus – a possible Olymipic event one day (balance, timing, co-ordination) we arrived at San Martin de Los Andes.  In military fashion we split up the responsibilities. ’You keep an eye on the bags and I’ll go get answers’. At the bus information window more  negative hand gestures revealed that the next bus to Pucon was the next morning! Cue sad faces.  We thought for a second about spending the nite and getting the next bus in the morning but why spend money on another hotel when another is waiting for you? Pucon was a well known destination so we felt confident that some buses would be going that afternoon from somewhere…

Luckily our sad faces generated a response from a few locals. A kind gent told us to get a bus back one stop and then get a car to the border. He said that would be ok, We believed him as he nodded his head in a confident manner. This was promising even if we only got to the border we’d be able to reach out and touch the country. Shortly after stocking up on cheesypuffs (what else?) we caught a bus back to Junin bus station. A bit strange to go back but in life you do that. Go backwards to go forwards, right?o

At Junin bus station. Repeat of military action: ‘You keep an eye on the bags and i’ll go get answers’. We prompty got a cab (probably because this was no ordinary minimum fare) to the border. What will await us? A bus to take us to our hotel? A policeman telling us to go back? A fanfare?

About 30 minutes later and some beautiful scenary we are at the border (my first land border experience) of this no nonsense operation. We searched for more solutions to getting to Pucon which was still miles away. It all looks a but serious here. Better not ask anybody to smile in my pictures. Second thoughts, best not take ANY pictures. Again speaking broken Spanish and interpretting hand signals (of the negative kind which was getting repetitive) our taxi driver revealed he was not able to take us past the border in Chile as you need a license to do that. We needed to work something out.   After a few obligitary flicks of the passport and pretend checking we got the rewarding sound of a stamp. Progress anyway. Since we weren’t walking distance from Pucon we politey asked in the office if anybody could take us direct.

Our luck was in as somebody could…fir $100. A bloke from the back (and not in military uniform) wearing a baseball cap answered our request promptly in exchange for this hard cash. He must be off duty or on dress down thursday. They must have saw us coming – from across the border with that kind of price. Either way we had quite literally a ‘get out of Argentina and into Chile plan’.

Mr baseball cap seemed to have a few jovial exchanges with his fellow colleagues probably along the lines of ‘Empanadas are on me tonite lads’ but we didn’t care. We did our best to negotiate a price and knocked it down by a few dollars. We could play this game too. Now take us to your Pucon!

Great, finally being driven directly to our hostel. Moving across the magical line (free now to snap away) in Chile. Driving through the national park which is literally on the border took over 30 mins on a bumpy road. We managed to pick up a passenger en route and passed the time to learn a little  about our new driver. He’s been to Switzerland and likes ‘LonDon!’ and now we are providing him with s free English lesson. Edging finally towards Pucon.

Eventually 70 minutes later we reach our destination and right on cue where we are greeted with a warm welcome.

For the first time in the trip we felt like real travellers minus the dreadlocks. We hadn’t eaten a proper meal (not even breakfast) unless you couht Oreo’s and Cheesy puffs. I was unshaven, bleary eyed, but nienow content with an overwhelming sense of satisfaction that we’d made it to our destination. Simple really.

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