"My Extensive Travels in Punta Arenas" or "Third Worst Bus Ride"

      Yesterday I left Ushuaia for Punta Arenas. The day started around 4:30 am with two pieces of bread and a cracker. I took a mini-bus from Ushuaia to somewhere, possibly Rio Grande, where I switched to a bigger "more comfortable" bus. I had my own space on the mini-bus sitting in a column of single seats. It was nice with nobody's fat ass or elbows intruding on my space. The guy in front of me leaned his chair back and it didn't even bother me because there was plenty of room. Then we switched to the nice big comfy bus. Immediately, the little shit in front of me, who was maybe five feet tall, slammed her seat back into my knees. Meanwhile the lady next to me, who was maybe five feet wide, was spilling over into my seat and elbowing me and acting like it was my fault she was too fat to stay on her own side of the armrest, which I had so generously not vied for. Well, my impersonation of a four year old on an airplane kicking the seat in front of them did not do any good to get the turd in front of me to remove her seat from my kneecaps, so I tried to channel my inner-Buddha. It had been almost six years since I last rode on a South American bus with no food and no sleep. Finding my inner-Buddha was going to take some time.

     After of few more hours of jockeying for position in my own seat, we came to the Argentine / Chilean border. This actually went pretty smoothly on both sides of the border. And absent the rude French guy, whom I would have sworn was Italian by the way he barreled in front of everyone at immigration, it was a nice respite from being on the bus.

    We reached the end of the road in Tierra Del Fuego and boarded the ferry. At this point I'm starving and ready to eat anything but olives, even if said thing has mayonnaise on it. They sell hot dogs on the ferry. I wait my turn for about 10 minutes and order two gross / wonderful hot dogs. Like Homer Simpson, I stare, mesmerized by these horrible raw looking tubes of "lips and assholes" spinning on the metal rollers inside the plastic case. I can't wait to eat them. I wait and wait and wait while they are supposedly getting more cooked, but no one can tell by looking. I look at the guy like "I don't care that they're not cooked. I'm going to douse them in your hyper-sweetened mustard and ketchup until I can't taste the dog anyway. Just gimme." So he does. I hand him a five dollar US bill. Sorry. Argenitne or Chilean pesos only. Unbelievable. The first time I try to use US bills since I got down here and I've found the only place in Tierra Del Fuego that isn't begging for them. My dreams of a peaceful, civilized, continuation of the bus ride to Punta Arenas have just taken a big blow.

    All is not lost though. Once across the water and back on the road, I see emus. I had been looking for them all along on this ride. This is nice countryside down here. It's covered with sheep, alpacas, and cows. And finally emus. Most of them were pretty small and none of them running, which is a rather enjoyable thing to watch. But still they were there. And on top of that the lady next to me finally figured out how to keep her elbow out of my ribs. She got off the bus...about an hour after her fat ass started seeping into my seat from underneath the arm rest. Vaya con Dios, lady. Next stop, Punta Arenas.

     Finally got to my hostel, which was close enough to walk to from the bus station. The hostel seems nice, the town seems nice. I'm looking forward to spending a few days checking out a place I've never been before. First I need food, though. After circling around the few blocks near my hostel that seem like they might have food. I give up my hopes of finding that perfect plate - fish, salad, potatoes and the best avocado ever, plus wine for super cheap - that was waiting for me the first time I arrived in Chile. I went to what appeared to be a Chinese restaurant? Oh well, I got a meal and a half out of it.

    Now, long story short. I bought a ticket to Santiago today, because it was either that or stay here a week and pay a bunch more for the same ticket.The people at the hostel here were very helpful and only charged me for one night, let me use the laundry (for a price) ( In the 90 seconds it took me to finish posting this after the guy at the hostel took the sheets out of the washer, specifically so I could use it, some chic swooped me. The guy working here showed me a place where I could go do the laundry nearby. Of course it was closed when I got there. I guess clean clothes will have to wait a couple more days.) and found me a hostel in Santiago. That sums up everything I know about Punta Arenas.