Arriving at some ungodly hour in Posadas, we took a taxi over the Paraguayan border. And back. I would love to tell you how much fun and how interesting Paraguay is, but I can’t. It isn’t. They may as well put posters in travel agencies that say ‘Paraguay: Forget it’.
So as soon as possible we headed out of Posadas on another coach, arriving at Resistencia a few hours later. Only when I got off the coach, I forget to pick up my GPS tracker which I need to keep you all informed where I am each day! Horrified by my rampant stupidity, Carlos came to my rescue and got the coach company to ring the driver (now on his way back to a place called Corrientes) and retrieve the GPS. Which they did, and had it driven back to Resistencia on the next bus.
I love Argentina.
So with a new spring in my step I checked out the town of Resistencia – not much to write anywhere about (never mind home) and all it did was solidify my belief that nothing even halfway decent has been built by anyone, anywhere in the last fifty years. Way to go, human race – losers!! Maybe in centuries to come, this period of time will be known as the era of concrete and piss.
The next bus we needed to Salta was an overnighter, arriving at 4am in the morning. Carlos was doing well, but after a couple of days on the road I could tell he’d had enough. I’ve got another 300 days of this…