Bolivia-Argentina: Border Crossing Glee

The morning of the proposed border crossing started off plensently with a three hour train ride to the border town. Train was late and buying tickets was a bit of a gong show, but cheap tickets were bought and it was defintely decidely less scary than a Jeep ride.

We began our walk from the train station to the border and then did something we knew better than to do, but did anyway... we decided to buy a ticket from the border town to Salta, Argentina (where we wanted to go that night) from an office on the Bolivian side. Argentine buses are a lot more money than their Bolivian counterparts, but come with more frills and paved roads. We were then escorted to the border by the bus company as the bus departed from the other side, something we didn´t really take the time to ask (this is where we knew better). Bolivian side was all gravy, but then we took in the line which snaked and curled around the customs office for Argentina.

With a sigh we got in line and we sat and sat and sat and didn´t move. Our bus was to leave in two hours, but that time slowly dwindled away.... soon other people who had bought tickets from the same company, and were behind us began to complain and bitch... And of course the sqeeky wheel gets the grease and they were the first gringos (of a country which will remain unamed) to get a lesson in the politics of the border.

After they got their express pass through the line... we started to get annoyed and were the typical polite Canadians about it and just cast dirty looks and checked our watches. It finally came down to Justine taking both passports and quietly slipping into the head of the line... which was fine because it wasn´t the gringos holding up things it was locals who seem to require a lot of photocopies and documentation. Both passports were stamped in a matter of one or two minutes..... and then we were waiting in line again to get our bags searched. Apparently, the people who search bags also have to do the dog sniffing of buses etc... So we were waiting again..

Finally, finally three hours later we were through... and our bus had left... Not to worry, another one was leaving in two hours. Then we were told there were no Casa De Cambios (money changers) on this side of the border... they were all back where we had started.. ARG. And without being stamped back into Bolivia, we could not cross...

We managed to get money changed for American Dollars from the bus station (because they all love the dinero from the ol´ US of A), although not at a great rate. Then we sat and waited at a tiny, tiny bus station that was chalk full of people who had just finished stuffing huge sacks full of bras and shirts and toys bought in Bolivia and brought over to selll in some street market somewhere. It was chaos, people were sitting on the ground, both inside and out, and let us tell you the building is not that big... We then realised we over paid for our bus ticket. We are talking 5 dollars each here.. which doesnt sound like much.. but down here that is huge.. and with our budget situation a deal breaker.... but part and parcel of life none the less.

Of course we thought, hay Argentina.. buses are on time and uber nice... so we have heard.

This is still northern Argentina...next to the border with Bolivia...

Our bus was 45 min late, and was the kind of a retrofitted bus, which once held only a handful of people and now could take over 70. Oh well, we thought, at least we get a view... no they had decalled the bus and our seat had a decal that you had to strain to see over.

But lets not complain here because every border crossing is an adventure.... and after an 8 hour bus ride we were in Salta... and it feels a world away from 8 hours north!!!