We just got back to Cuenca today after a long vacation at the beach. I've been meaning to write about our trip over there on the bus but was too busy doing, well, not much of anything. Isn't that the whole idea??
Let's be honest--in the States taking a trip on a bus is one rung up on the ladder from hitchhiking. In this third world country where most people don't own cars and certainly can't afford to fly, buses are the primary way of getting around the country.
We ride buses all the time in the city but hadn't actually traveled on one out of town in years. Not because of any negative previous experiences. Simply that whatever we've been doing and riding a bus to get there haven't coincided.
This time they did, so we took a taxi to the terminal near the airport to buy tickets to Guayaquil. Once there we would switch to a different line for the ride up the coast to our final destination, where friends we were staying with would pick us up.
It's hard for me to convey how different our mindset is after living in Ecuador for so long. I can remember how early on walking into this same bus terminal was extremely intimidating. There are taxis and people everywhere. Inside are many windows where you buy tickets, each line servicing a different part of the country. Sensory overload kicks in, and this is just in Cuenca. The terminal in Guayaquil is HUGE--three stories of apparent chaos and over 100 windows!
Having "survived" innumerable situations of all sorts over the years, we know that by staying calm and centered we will board a bus and be on our way. Sure enough, someone asks us where we going and points us to the window of the company with the next departure. We purchase two tickets on an Executivo--nicer quality and assigned seats--express bus for $12 total (I was so excited by the low price I forgot to ask for my 50% discount!) and head to the proper lane to wait for our chariot to arrive.
What looks like chaos at first glance turns out to be a well-organized operation. There are people at the entryway constantly asking passengers where they are going and pointing them to the correct lane. The buses come and go on time.
After only about a five minute wait our bus arrived.
You give the driver your luggage and he stores it underneath. Since it's an express route there are no worries of someone at an earlier stop walking off with your suitcase, but we still took our computers and smaller bags inside with us. As you can see, the interior is quite nice and there's plenty of legroom.
Since we were the first passengers to purchase tickets (15 minutes before the bus departed) we got the bulkhead seats on the first row which meant even more legroom. Nice! In the ten minutes we sat before leaving we were serenaded by a blind musician,
offered the chance to buy newspapers from another guy, and visited by a candy vendor
who apparently wasn't part of the "system" because he was escorted away by security guys.
As soon as we pulled out of the terminal music started playing from the speakers. I knew it was coming and I brace myself for this because, hey, we're in Ecuador and salsa normally blares in whatever mode of transportation you find yourself. Surprise! The very first song was Wham's "Never Gonna Dance Again," followed by Kansas' "Dust in the Wind." Bee Gees, Eagles, and Billy Joel were also in the mix. Compliments to the DJ!
Although we were on an "express" bus we stopped to pick up a few stray passengers while heading out of town. They were never at what you would call a normal stop, so we figured they were friends or relatives of the driver. Who knows what kind of regular shenanigans take place when you're only riding that one time?
Speaking of the driver, I was glad to see he was a middle aged guy. The young bucks tend to careen through the Cajas mountains, which is an hour of the three and a half hour trip, like they're behind the wheel of a sports car. We've had too many nauseous journeys with van services but this time the ride was smooth and comfortable.
I had paid a dime to use the restroom at the terminal before we left. I thought it was kind of cool that the attendant had his own little convenience store set up inside for last minute purchases. But nature called en route because of too many cups of coffee before leaving the house. Fortunately the bus had a tiny toilet room in the rear.
Hold that thought about "fortunately." We were in the mountains by then and the bus was lurching to and fro, which was going to make taking care of business a challenge. Worse, I couldn't get the damn door closed. I slammed it and slammed it, until with one especially vigorous yank the bottom of the handle broke off the door.
So picture this. I'm trying to pee in this little bitty space, bracing myself against the wall and holding the door closed with the broken handle. The bus is weaving back and forth which is making it impossible for me to "concentrate." I wedge the door into the frame several times to use two hands but it keeps flying open. I'm pouring sweat, my aim is less than stellar, and this whole ordeal is taking forever. When I finally finish and return to my seat Cynthia says, "My God, what took you so long?!?" Well-----.
After we emerged from the Cajas our resourceful driver stopped along the way to let a guy selling empanadas on board, getting a complimentary lunch for himself. That guy got off in the next town and was replaced by another fellow selling ice cream. You guessed it--free dessert for the driver. What a country!
The remainder of the trip was uneventful. At the Guayaquil terminal we knew which window to buy our next set of tickets from, and according to the schedule I had read online the bus wasn't leaving for half an hour. Great! We would have time for Cynthia to use the restroom and grab some lunch.
Except the lady behind the window said the bus was leaving in five minutes. (Sigh.) When I told Cynthia this she was, shall we say, less than pleased. Keeping it real, she was furious. I said, "Look, go to the bathroom. If the bus leaves before we get there we'll catch the next one." "What about lunch?" "If we make it we'll eat some of the food we brought."
Amazingly the driver somehow knew we were coming and waited for us. We threw the luggage underneath, climbed aboard, and were out of there a minute later. Starving, we tore through an apple like it was put through a wood chipper. Not a lot of conversation took place between us the rest of the way------.
I wanted to share this story because it represents a microcosm of life here. Did the journey go smoothly? No. Does anything go smoothly in Ecuador? Rarely. Bottom line: we got there.
Did we have a fabulous vacation? Absolutely. See--all smiles now.