A Very Lucky Lady!

On what I thought was my penultimate night in Posadas I’d arranged to take my homestay hosts, Christina and Julian, out for dinner. I’d asked them to choose somewhere nice. So we headed for Posadas’s poshest and I told them to order what they wanted and I would pick up the tab as a thank you for their hospitality. Christina wanted the local speciality, Subuni (sp) fish, but thought it was too expensive, and sure enough it was twice the price of the steaks…an extra 11 pesos (£1.77). I tried to explain that really £1.77 wouldn’t actually buy me as much as a cup of coffee in Madrid on the way home. Equally, I hadn’t the heart to make a big deal of just how far the British pound goes in Argentina. So Christina and I had the fish, which was absolutely beautiful. For £13 I could have ordered the most expensive wine in the house, but I held off such a feat and we chose something we all liked which was more modestly priced. At the end of the night dinner and wine for 3 at the town’s top restaurant hadn’t even cost as much as £20. Fantastic!

Christina and Julian were horrified to realise I had been in Posadas a whole month and hadn’t yet visited the Casino, so that changed after dinner. We won £8 each; all very exciting. It didn’t make up for the fact I was so engrossed in the action I didn’t notice someone burn a hole in my jacket, which cost more than £8, but nevermind. We had fun….Julian bought Champagne with his winnings. Much fuss was made in the casino when a customer bought Champagne and the whole thing was quite a spectacle….even though it was actually sparkling wine from a Bodega in Mendoza, Argentina. But I would never have realised if I hadn’t seen the label.

After our victory we headed home; it was after 1am after all on a school night, and Christina had work at 6.30am. I surfaced at 6am in order to get ready for assisting at nursery, but allowing enough time for a leisurely breakfast as I watch the dawn break on what I thought was my last full day in Misiones province.

I bussed it to nursery, and caught up with Emmanuel and his brother on the school run as I hopped off. His older sister got off the bike and we walked up the road together amicably. A different kind of school run to that outside Watsons of a morning…

I had permission to finish early, as soon as feeding time was over (at the zoo) at 11am, since I simply *had* to go shopping in preparation for returning home. After saying some fond, and not so fond farewells (mostly fond, I have to point out) I did a runner and went home for a quick shower to clean off all the nursery grime for the final time. I arrived in to town an hour before siesta and hit the shops.

The problem was I only had 15kg baggage allowance for my domestic flight to connect with the international one: Wine or Shoes?! I’d already calculated I could fit half a case of wine in my hand luggage, and if they checked its weight I would have to present the check in staff with most of it but thought it was worth the risk.

After siesta (well final gossip session and Maté (MUST re-iterate that that’s Maté the drink!) with Monica and more shopping I had a farewell party to go to, organised by the project co-ordinator, Veronica. Before getting ready for the party I’d chucked my new purchases on the bed, wondering how on earth they would fit in my case as I headed out. The other volunteers had threatened for at least the last fortnight that I would not be sleeping prior to my flight out of Posadas in the morning, promising me “a night I could not forget” in the Latino and Chumba room at Power nightclub/dance emporium, with our eclectic collection of Latino friends . However, I planned to be tucked up in bed at a sensible time ready for the next day’s packing and journeying.

A couple of glasses of wine into the party, and we started on the food amid much conviviality. Someone asked me what time my flight was from Posadas and Veronica heard me reply. She informed me that I had the wrong time as the timetable had been reduced to one flight per day. Lesson One: Always confirm your return flights 72 hours in advance, just like it says on the ticket! (A transport planner really ought to know that)

There was a sudden, mutual realisation amongst the guests, myself included, that I would have to get the overnight bus if I was to stand any chance of catching my international flight to Madrid the next day. Only…….. both overnight buses to Buenos Aires departed within 90 minutes of this realisation.

I can’t really describe these 90 minutes. 3 months of happy travels, and then only 90 minutes to wrap it up; say my goodbyes to my month long friends (the organisers and my co-workers), to get back to the homestay and pack, say goodbye, to get to the bus station, buy a ticket and assuming all was OK, board.

Prior to this realisation my thoughts had been very much on matters at home, as so much was going on. My mind was also wrapped up in the nursery, the girls’ home, my shopping list and my new friends. I had given no consideration to the journey home. I guess I didn’t want to think about going back!

Anyway, back to the party and the moment of realisation: enter centre stage The Good Samaritan(s) in the form of Norma and Fernando, Veronica’s parents. Within seconds they’d whisked me off to Christina and Julian’s house. Many traffic lights through the city were at red, but that didn’t stop us. Fernando fished out a dustbin bag from the car and scooped up all the things that didn’t quite fit in my case, bundling them and me into the car.. Never let it be said that an Argentine doesn’t know how to drive: Fernando was parked up at the out of town bus station a few moments later.

At the ticket office I realised the bus wasn’t going to get me to Buenos Aires in time to connect with the flight, so Norma did a cultural and linguistic translation of my request to the bus company staff “Can you get the bus to stop before Buenos Aires city centre so I can scoot round the ring road in a taxi/remise to get to the airport, PLEASE?” Remarkably the answer was yes. Even better the staff let me get cash back on my visa, since I didn’t have enough cash to pay for the taxi, or departure taxes or anything else. I was astounded at people’s willingness to come to my aid and how swiftly and efficiently the situation was handled. This after all is the country where it took me two hours, a passport and a driving licence to buy a hairdryer in cash worth four pounds. The bus left half an hour later than we were expecting which gave me time to pack properly (at the bus stance), and to buy the men in the ticket office some thank you chocolates. Fernando was quite certain all my stuff would not fit in my bag, and thought it hilarious I was even going to attempt it. Whilst I may not be good at confirming flights, one thing I am not so bad at is packing. And those shoes just had to fit in the bag! They did. Just. In the picture here I was whistling at the dog who had enjoyed assisting me in my packing efforts. Shame he’s not in the picture because every South American bus station I’ve seen had at least one friendly stray dog to see you off/welcome you to the town.

So Norma and Fernando were good enough to wave me off from the bus, having been responsible for organising all, and getting me and my things out of serious hot water. I really can’t thank them enough; they are the stars of the show. Before I departed we even had time for a chat. Norma mentioned how surprised she was that I seemed to be all smiles and apparently coping considering the traumatic start to my homeward journey….she put it down to my Qué Sera attitude (this must be a new or temporary attribute!). She thought it hilarious that I was particular over which bus company I was prepared to travel with, to Buenos Aires that night (from the choice of two). As she was telling me this and much more, I thought of my friend Richard H (Nic Sq) who would never believe her…he once came to my rescue in central London after I’d had a disastrous visit within Europe and, as well he knows, I was in quite a state J

On the bus I wanted to confirm with the attendant that I was going to be dropped off in the morning at an appropriate place to connect with the pre-booked remise (taxi) ….I was concerned it was all a bit too good to be true. Unfortunately the attendant didn’t come round for over 10 hours, by which time I was definitely ready for dinner but more importantly really needed a drink (I mean water!) as the last thing I’d had was the wine at the party. I had also discovered the nursery had given me a parting gift: one almighty cold! Under normal circumstances I would never embark on a 14 hour bus journey without water and probably biscuits (!) but this was an exception.

So, the attendant finally emerged from wherever he was hiding, sometime after the sun came up the next morning. I asked him for confirmation that it was still alright to stop at the agreed place so I could connect with my flight and he replied that it was definitely not a possibility. Oh dear. There was absolutely no way I could make my flight from Buenos Aires to Madrid if the bus was not able to let me alight before Retiro bus terminal in the centre of Buenos Aires. With little cash, a Visa debit card linked to an empty current account, and a cancelled Visa credit card (its identity was stolen in London while I was away, so I had to cancel it and make do without) I wasn’t sure how I was going to get myself out of this pickle. For almost an hour, whilst on the bus I tried to call the flight ticket agent in London, but I couldn’t get through. Eventually I decided to do the unthinkable and call my mother with the news that I would be missing my flight. My phone had intermittent reception and when it did work it cut off every 60 seconds on international calls. Lesson 999 of the day, never call your Mother when you are the other side of the world in a trauma!

Shortly after, as we were nearing the outskirks of Buenos Aires a different attendant came through to the cabin. I have not worked out where he managed to hide for the previous 13-14 hours or so, but it doesn’t matter…he had some fantastic news. The bus was stopping in a couple of minutes where I was to alight, and hop into the waiting remise (taxi) which the lovely man in the bus terminal in Posadas had organised for me. Wow!

Sure enough, two minutes later I was speeding along the BA equivalent of London’s North Circular in the back of remise. I have no idea how the driver cut through all the traffic with his car and passenger in tact, nor how it took him only 4o minutes to circumnavigate one of the world’s biggest cities…I was told to allow 90 mins, but I am very grateful for his efforts. (All £9 worth!) I got to the airport to find my flight was an hour earlier than my ticket stated and was just about to board. The Iberia check in desk was open, but the clerk pointed out if I’d been another 10 minutes I would have missed my flight altogether. The airport was quiet and I was at the gate within 10 minutes… I joined the end of the boarding queue but spied some Alfajores (chocolate biscuits) perfect for the office and just had sufficient pesos to make a purchase before I strolled on to tarmac, last to board. Imagine the strife I’d be in if I’d returned without chocolates for the office!!

What a close call; I was incredibly fortunate and I am so thankful for everyone’s assistance, right from the farewell party in Posadas through to the security staff almost 1,000 miles further south. (thanks is insufficient, but will have to do!). An auspicious journey; and a very lucky passenger.

In Madrid I had time to watch the third sunrise since I last slept (I’ve always found a sleeper service a bit of a misnomer). At Heathrow my parents met me, and we headed to Putney to see one of my closest friends Sarah for food and a gossip which was the perfect trip end. We had until teatime in London until our train home (pre-booked cheap tickets!); I got back to my parents’ house 59 hours after my last sleep, and well ready for a cuppa. The welcoming party were out in force and after a goodnight’s sleep I sat down for Sunday lunch…a big steak and an even bigger glass of Malbec……only with Yorkshire Puddings. Hurrah!!

By the way, anyone who has read this far gets a gold star for effort. Thanks!