The view from our hostel window.El Pratico, local bus.
Overnight bus, transportation, dinner & breakfast, and hotel.Peter tries his bed.
Last look at Hostel Inn from the bus out of town.
Thursday, Oct. 28
Our last day in Puerto Iguazu, and we awaken to birds singing and the sun shining. We are all packed, so just have breakfast and spend the morning by the pool. We have a cheese and cracker lunch, I change into what I call my elephant-leg pants, rolled-up for the hot day, and it is off to the Omnibus terminal on el Practico, the Pt. Iguazu version of El Urbano. The bus takes us right to the terminal. I buy stamps and send the post cards from the station. This place is set-up for tourists.
The full-cama, Viva Barraloche bus pulls in right on time and we are off to Buenos Aires, top floor, front seats. Peter tries out his seat to make sure it goes all the way back and the foot-rest comes all the way up. Add a pillow and warm blanket, and all is well for the 17-hour, over-night trip. Food, lodging, and transportation all rolled into one!
The countryside is wooded with tree farms and fields of some kind of nut or fruit bushes. Some houses are red brick construction, but more are very small, raised on stilts, rough-wood places with only shutters in place of glass windows. Reminds me of the places in Dominica.
As we leave we are served Sprite and a biscuit. Later, a coffee and another biscuit. I have guessed correctly and the dinner is served after we leave Posada at around 8 p.m. The trays are served with a hunk of some kind of puff-pastry filled pie, a half tomato filled with rice and peas, something else cold I can’t remember, and a bun. I figure that was it when the “server” brings a hot dish with a baked-¼ chicken, very flavourful, and some potato balls. There is canned, fruit salad for dessert. After the stuff is cleared away, he returns to ask if we prefer champagne or “whiskey”. When Peter declines and I request a whiskey, he is a little taken aback. Maybe I am his first scotch-drinking old lady. It is quite smooth. Nice touch.
Our last day in Puerto Iguazu, and we awaken to birds singing and the sun shining. We are all packed, so just have breakfast and spend the morning by the pool. We have a cheese and cracker lunch, I change into what I call my elephant-leg pants, rolled-up for the hot day, and it is off to the Omnibus terminal on el Practico, the Pt. Iguazu version of El Urbano. The bus takes us right to the terminal. I buy stamps and send the post cards from the station. This place is set-up for tourists.
The full-cama, Viva Barraloche bus pulls in right on time and we are off to Buenos Aires, top floor, front seats. Peter tries out his seat to make sure it goes all the way back and the foot-rest comes all the way up. Add a pillow and warm blanket, and all is well for the 17-hour, over-night trip. Food, lodging, and transportation all rolled into one!
The countryside is wooded with tree farms and fields of some kind of nut or fruit bushes. Some houses are red brick construction, but more are very small, raised on stilts, rough-wood places with only shutters in place of glass windows. Reminds me of the places in Dominica.
As we leave we are served Sprite and a biscuit. Later, a coffee and another biscuit. I have guessed correctly and the dinner is served after we leave Posada at around 8 p.m. The trays are served with a hunk of some kind of puff-pastry filled pie, a half tomato filled with rice and peas, something else cold I can’t remember, and a bun. I figure that was it when the “server” brings a hot dish with a baked-¼ chicken, very flavourful, and some potato balls. There is canned, fruit salad for dessert. After the stuff is cleared away, he returns to ask if we prefer champagne or “whiskey”. When Peter declines and I request a whiskey, he is a little taken aback. Maybe I am his first scotch-drinking old lady. It is quite smooth. Nice touch.
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