Its a fresh and pleasant Friday morning when we arise in Yapeyú. Our bus is at 11.30am, breakfast is in the big room and we are clean and happy. It all looks so simple for a single day.
Our view at breakfast.
The front of the Pousada leading back to the main road.
The back of the Pousada faced the Rio Uruguay...
We jump in our taxi with an hour to spare this time. Feeling confident. Arrive at the bus terminal but the taxi driver informs us, as best we can tell, that there is no bus til 4pm. The internet on this occasion has let us down. We debate, and decide to head to the Plaza where we might find wi-fi and work out a plan. Our driver speaks to Sarah as if she is fluent in Spanish. Mumbly Spanish.
At the plaza we have an attractive park to wander around and the museum we wanted to see. We figure we have time to mooch about anyway. Cafes with wi-fi seem a little few and far between. A man goes past on a horse.
Outside La Casa De San Martin is this monument to the fallen soldiers of Las Malvinas. You cannot escape Argentina's obsession with the war; signifiers are everywhere, though it is difficult to work out why. I feel confident saying that the Argentines want the islands back, but it is that Argentinians were killed during the conflict that causes them the most grief, and really their desire to get the islands back is a manifestation of that.
The attractive house built around the house that José de San Martin was born in.
El Libertador himself.
Each plaque is an offering from various local governments, police or fire unions, clubs, whatever. There are dozens of them paying their respects to the father of the nation.
The three houses preserved in the museum.
The restaurant next door.
A park is opposite the museum
It really is everywhere.
La Casa De San Martin has a military guard at all times, and every hour (I think) a soldier rides past his statue and salutes him.
Dogs at the bus station.
We eventually walk back to the bus station along the only paved road in the town,which is as-yet unfinished, 4 months after it was due. The road is blocked with piles of mud at either end, so no one can drive on it either. The bus station is small and has space for only or two buses to park at a time. The folks who work there are all sitting around watching the news, which is only concerned with the horrid weather in New York, or the price of lunch in Mar De Plata this holiday season. We relax for a bit, then I decide to wander to the end of the street to take some photos. Lucky me, I discover the Museu San Martin, lots of articles that have survived from his remarkable life.
Lots to see, and I have the place to myself. Free in, too.
Eventually I head back but I haven't missed much. Sarah is reading her book and we are both starving. The little station cafe sorts us out with lunch; we wait some more; at 4pm we catch a £3 bus to Paso De Los Libres.
Not much to do here but sit back and wait til 7pm for the £14 bus to Concordia. Late again for our chosen destination, it isn't much fun turning up at 11pm and checking in to a hotel for 8 hours. Having said that, we are delighted we don't have to wait too long here in Paso De Los Libres; its a little scabby, there are chickens running around the bus terminal along with some equally barefoot children. Sure there's a cheap and nasty market round the back to have a look round, but thats about it. 7pm pulls up and we get out of Dodge.
Four hours later and Concordia appears. It's a pleasant enough town, fairly modern and the bus station is proper-sized. Hotel Coronado is a mere five minute walk away, looking like a proper hotel too. Clean, comfy, and with a balcony. We nearly feel like real tourists.
Downstairs, in Tarantino's restaurant where we make friends with Christian and Zunii, the proprietors, who sort us out with more Milanese sandwiches for dinner, and help Sarah with her first vino tinto de la casa. Photographs are taken, Facebook names exchanged, they are excited that we are from Ireland and have never been. This is a story repeating itself all over the continent. I bet Australians aren't this excited about people from Galway.
One more day of long-distance travel to go before its easy... Will we make it up for breakfast tomorrow and catch the 10.30am bus to Uruguay?
Doubt it.
Re not enough sleep.......isn't that why a siesta is to be recommended??
ReplyDeleteHave you tried getting into the routine of the siesta? Its a bit difficult! Getting up early, sleeping during the afternoon, I think we probably shouldn't drink coffee in the mornings if we want to sleep a few hours later :)
ReplyDeleteSarah is still stunned by the little kids in the restaurants at midnight, all full of beans and looking tidy at the table...