Anatomy of a 22 hour bus ride.

We willingly signed up for a 20+ hour, dirt road ride through the Chaco desert from Santa Cruz, Bolivia to Filadelfia, Paraguay. The bus company worms were fast talking liars and ended up charging us the same price we would have paid all the way to Asunción, seven hours further down the road. They also promised us that Filadelfia is actually a regular stop, and we would be dropped off in Filadelfia proper.

Lies, all lies!

Around hour 21 the bus flew past the turn for Filadelfia, I had a nasty little voice in my head saying this was going to happen all along. I went up to the drivers and asked them when we would be stopping in Filadelfia. They conversed in Paraguay's mother tongue, Guaraní, and then laughed at me saying, in Spanish, we had passed it long ago.

I was tired, dirty, and sick of everyone on that bus. The dudes in front of us had their seats jacked all the way back for the entire ride, plus they loved to stick their hands behind the seat practically close enough for me to smell them. I wanted to fight the entire bus minus Megan, my only teammate. I hated the drivers instantly.

My Spanish is nothing to marvel at when I'm cool and collected, when I'm angry it pretty much falls apart totally. I stomped back to my seat to get Megan, I needed her decision making skills and her better Spanish.

We went back to the drivers together and she asked what the deal was. They told her the same thing, we passed it and no we are not going back. I then proceeded to yell about how the jerks 21 hours back at the station back in Santa Cruz promised us 5 different ways the bus stopped in Filadelfia. The ayudante, trying to deflect blame said they told me that just to get my money.

They so helpfully said they would drop us off at the next crossroads where we could catch a collectivo to Filadelfia.

They dropped us off, and managed to avoid my hate filled glaring choosing to deal with Megan and pretend I did not exist. It was night, and we had no idea where we were. There was a gas station across the road.

We stood there for awhile, I ranted and cursed feeling uneasy about the people lingering around in the dark. They just turned out to be kids hitchhiking, which is a common mode of transport in rural Paraguay.

We decided to go visit the gas station and see if they knew when the next collectivo would be passing by. On our way we spotted a little shed with a light on inside and a sign hanging on the outside that said Agencia NASA, it was the local bus company. The helpful old man inside sold us two tickets to Filadelfia for pretty much all of the local currency we had, 10,000gs each, about $4.00usd total.

We made it to Filadelfia about an hour later, all ended up being fine. I still have hate in my heart for those guys in the Santa Cruz bus station.The Picada 500. We spent about 15 hours on this road.
The view out our window for much of the ride.
We finally make it to the asphalt Trans Chaco Highway after 15 hours.
This little dog, with a monkey passenger just showed up while we waited at Bolivian Migracion just after dawn.
Our packs, covered in dust.
A beautiful view for 21 hours.