I’m sitting on the bottom bunk of my hostel in El Calafate, home of the famous Perito Moreno Glacier, and exhausted from a days journey by bus from El Bolson, a tiny hippie-town nestled in the Andes. What was exhausting was not the 26 hours spent in a barely reclinable seat, but that there were no stops to stretch my legs nor food given to ease hunger.
Travelers beware of Taqsa, the only bus company that runs from Bariloche through El Bolson to El Calafate without taking the infamous grueling, gravel road and “ultimate experience” that is Ruta 40. Personally, Taqsa did not offer a much more comfortable ride.
Nevertheless, despite what I was told, El Calafate is all the desolate beauty that one conjures when thinking of Patagonia. Desert, mountains, a small lake in which flamingos nibble, and of course glaciers, which we are saving for tomorrow.
I wish I could write more, but the sheer energy needed to manage this French keyboard (my new travel buddy’s computer) only adds to my exhaustion.
Can’t wait to get back home in Buenos Aires, if only for rest and writing.
Toronto born and based, Brit is an avid leisure cyclist, coffee drinker and under-a-tree park-ist. She often finds herself meandering foreign cities looking for street eats to nibble, trees to climb, a patch of grass to sit on, or a small bookstore to sift through. You can find her musing life on her personal blog, TheBubblesAreDead.wordpress.com.
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