fresh n juicy chunks of oyster :: RTW travel blog

From Cordoba to Salta (further up North) I decided to treat myself. Instead of opting for the cheapest bus available (which have all so far been much more comfortable than buses in Europe or the infamous Greyhound) I decided to experience the luxury of Argentine 1st class bus travel (for a price hike of $3). Unfortunately none left at a convenient time so I settled for semi-cama class instead (first class is called cama, i.e. 'bed').
I was welcomed on the bus by a friendly stewardess in uniform who would put most grumpy airline staff to shame. I munched on the complementary sweet, reclined my seat to 30 degrees off the horizontal, put up the leg rest and went to sleep straight away.
An unknown time later I was woken by the friendly stewardess with a meal that was up there with airline food (which in actual fact should read 'down there' but I like the pun).
Just as I was about to nip off a video was slapped in starring 'J-Lo'. It began predictably enough as a badly written romantic chick-flick, then out of nothing pops a made-for-US-TV domestic violence drama (with of course a disgustingly cute daughter involved). Then the scriptwriters struggled to come up with an ending suitable for a pop-princess and had a 6ft 6 Yoda instruct Ms Lopez in the art of self-defence and Jedi mind-tricks within 3 minutes of screen time. Et voila, she turns into Tom Cruise from Mission Impossible, complete with gadgetry. She then proceeds to assassinate her husband in hand to hand combat in an elaborate fashion. No apologies for spoiling the plot. And no, it wasn't a comedy.
Anyone who hadn't fallen asleep through 'J-Lo's' antics earlier was then treated to an encore of frustration. A guy several seats in front of me was evidently really enjoying the reclining seats and snoring like a mammoth giving birth. To a space shuttle. Indeed, there will be no more silence from me on the topic of public snoring - I've suffered enough. A spouse at least you can lovingly suffocate in their sleep with a pillow, blame it on Sleep Apnea and live happily ever after on the life insurance payout. Lack of kinship and proximity prevented me from doing the same in this case. In youth hostels kicking a snorer's bed hard usually buys you a several-minute window of falling into a death-like sleep. On the bus, however, he was in control. Snoring, just like a baby crying in the middle of the night, has an organic, grating quality to it and a chaotic irregularity in its melody that constantly raises the irrational conviction that there is malicious intent involved. The bastard. He was teasing me, playing with me like a spider with its defenceless prey that is being kept barely alive on the hope its tormenter will stop the torture or die swiftly and violently.
"Ah, no snores for the last minute," I'd keep saying to myself, "quick, go to sleep sleep sleeeep..."
I'd ignore the slight grunt that was meant to remind me he was aware of my plans and could slowly feel my mind flirting with the line between this world and my dreams. Then, suddenly, a sound like a pigsty during mating season would make my heart jump with fear and my mind race with helpless fury.
I had to proceed with the last resort that I will in future make my first: the uncomfortable sonic bubble that is earplugs. The snores now sounded miles away but the hope they might cease kept me awake for longer. I should really have known better.
I arrived in Salta the next morning exhausted. Fascinatingly, Salta is neither Rotterdam nor Germany but refreshingly it feels more like what I'd imagine Bolivia to be like. I may of course be completely wrong in that assumption, but I was welcomed by Coca leaves that are sold on every street corner. Between masticating cow-like on that and drinking copious amounts of mate (hot, caffeinated, tea-like national drink) it was no problem staying up for 24 hours or more. Even after a night of sleeping with mammoth-boy.
On Tuesday I shall hopefully live out my childhood John Wayne fantasies and go horseback riding for a couple of days. My ass and legs are expecting heavy punishment. If I'll be able to walk to an internet cafe I'll post again on my return. Hopefully about something more eventful than bodily functions and bad movies. :)

[Pictures have been posted, but just to warn, they're not very interesting... Unless if you're into train stations and cities from above that is.]