Days 33-36: Flying through Argentina

Flying through Argentina

Days 33 – 36

January 30 – February 2

Salta to Buenos Aires to El Calafate to El Chalten

On the morning of the 30^th, I finally boarded a bus out of Chile and into Argentina.  I was four days overdue leaving San Pedro de Atacama, and I now needed to hurry through Argentina if I was going to make it to Buenos Aires in time for my flight to Patagonia.  We crossed the Andes from west to east, creating a sidereal of snow-capped mountains that inched by as our bus struggled to summit the pass.  We climbed high enough to see snow on the ground.  The low air temperature came as a relief to the first few hours of the bus ride; I bought the last ticket on this bus, which landed me all the way in the back, sandwiched between the bathroom and the engine.  You can imagine this seat being quite unpleasant, and avoided by others for a reason.  

We arrived in Salta late at night.  I shared a cab with three other backpackers to the hostel district and found a spot to call home for two days.  Argentina is more modern than anywhere I’ve been in South America, and Salta resembled an American city in many ways.  With few things to do within the city limits, my activity was low in Salta, although I did give myself enough breaks in writing to summit San Bernardo hill.  With over a thousand steps to the peak and a panoramic view of the city, I wasn’t surprised to find many locals there.  

There is a cable car that rides from Salta below to the top of San Bernardo Hill

With less than two days before my flight was scheduled to leave Buenos Aires, I was happy that I chose to fly out of Salta rather than ride the bus.  It was fortunate I arrived in Buenos Aires late at night; the airport shuttle to the city center only takes thirty minutes at 10:30 PM, and three times that long during the day.  However, arriving late at night without having previously booked a hostel has its detriments; I had to walk for forty minutes before I could find a hostel with an open bunk.  The low price at Milhouse Hostel allowed me to forgive the signs that this was a party hostel, although I was lucky to find that the party had already left for the city at this late hour.  I stayed one night and slept in the airport the next evening.

I awoke at 5:30 AM in a daze.  I stood in the wrong line for 15 minutes before realizing my mistake.  Shuffling through the correct line, I was checked in within five minutes.  We flew from Buenos Aires to Bariloche, and Bariloche to El Calafate, the last two airports residing in Argentinian Patagonia.  Flying out of Bariloche, the mountains south of the runway rose almost as quickly as we ascended.  After the first couple minutes, I could see the peaks of sharp rocky mountains just below the wings, almost like they were ready to scrape the underbelly of the plane.  High alpine lakes were in abundance, with spots of snowpack still remaining after the summer melt.  The plane passed directly over a tranquil lake, and its surface began to ripple and vibrate.  We were flying low enough for the draft from the wings to disturb the terrain below.  The ice-covered mountainous terrain crawled until we landed amongst it again.  In El Calafate, it was only a short bus ride to numerous glaciers and iconic mountains. 

I stocked up on supplies, slept a night in El Calafate, and rose early for my bus ride to El Chalten, the unofficial basecamp for Los Glaciers National Park, home of Cerro Torre and Fitz Roy, two mountains of Patagonian fame. 

The Fitz Roy Massif as viewed from just outside of El Chalten.