January 5, 2006
The bus last night was a killer. As soon as I stepped aboard, I saw that the seats did not fold down into beds, semi-beds, or even somewhat comfortable reclining positions. They played a movie, but it was a horribly-made illegal copy of a combination martial-arts-time-travel flick. During the movie, the bus employee gave a cup of coffee to anyone who wanted it, including the 5-year-old sitting in front of us with no parents to supervise him. Surprisingly, the ride wasn't going too bad at that point, but that was only the beginning.
After the movie ended, I tried to get some sleep, but that did not happen. Next to me, there was a screaming baby. It wouldn't shut up no matter what its mom did to comfort it. In front of me was a snoring guy. I've been traveling long enough to have gotten used to sleeping with snoring people around me, but this was not your average snorer. Every thirty seconds or so, he let out this screeching noise that sounded like he was being attacked by a wild boar. I thought he was dying at first, but his friend next to him didn't seem to be concerned (although he was wide awake just like everyone else around him), so I neglected to check his vitals. Two rows in front of me, the driver was chain smoking and playing loud music. Since turning down the music or disrupting his routine of smoking could have made him fall asleep, I decided not to bother him. And that kid in front of me that drank a cup of coffee earlier proceeded to sing along really loudly to every song that came on the radio, all night long, whether he knew the words to the song or not. To top it all off, every time I was about to fall asleep, a girl behind me, probably in an attempt to figure out why there were so many loud people on the bus, thought it would be a good time to turn on her light, which of course shined directly into my eyes. Needless to say, lots of sets of red, droopy eyes walked off the bus the next morning.
We got to Comodoro Rivadavia at 8:00 AM, but we had no interest in staying there. Luckily, a bus left to Puerto Deseado, a much better place to stay, five minutes later. This bus had a much friendlier environment, and I managed to sleep for the entire four hour ride.
Puerto Deseado is a small port town in southern Patagonia. It was cool and rainy all day, so there wasn't much to do, other than go to the tourism office and figure out if there was anything to do on a cold and rainy day. We decided that we will go on a tour of some of the islands of the area tomorrow, weather permitting, and check out the shipwreck museum today.
In the late 1700's, a cargo ship had an unfortunate encounter with a large underwater rock near the harbor of Puerto Deseado. The ship sank and nothing was heard about it for nearly 200 years. Then around 1980, three adventurous teenagers went on an underwater expedition and rediscovered the wreckage. They began pulling storage containers, anchors, canons, and other items from the ship. At one point, they took out a well-preserved jug of 200-year-old wine and celebrated their discovery by drinking it. Unfortunately, several years later one of the kids drowned. A museum was later erected containing the booty from the ship. It was named the "Mario Brozoski" Museum in honor of the ship's fallen discoverer. Even though it was small, the museum was a fun place to visit and relive the adventure of the ship's discoverers.
Puerto Deseado may have bad weather, but at least the atmosphere there is friendly.