There are various levels of seats on the buses, which are actually prescribed by law, ranging from Comun, which is like a simple Greyhound type seat, up to Cama Suite, which I what I took (cama means "bed"). Basically the levels have to do with how wide the seat is and how much it reclines, and from there each bus company offers various services like movies and food.
All the buses leave BA from Retiro station which is like a giant airport, but with buses. There are about 90 gates and you only have about 15 minutes from when your bus gate is announced until it departs, so you have to be vigilant about watching the departure board! Luckily the gates are split into sections of ten, and your ticket tells you which section your bus will be in, so you can at least stand nearby. Like all bus stations, Retiro is a bit sketchy and supposedly a haven for pickpockets, but I made it through with all my belongings intact.
The bus I took was an all Suite bus, with only about ten of the 25 seats filled, so it was very nice and quiet. I got the front row on top, which was great for looking out the windows (although a bit less great in the morning with all the smooshed bugs on the windshield!). The seat was like one of the first-class seats on an airplane that turns into a bed - completely comfortable and I was able to sleep for eight hours in all. We also had personal TVs and they gave us headphones that we could plug in to watch movies or listen to music. Unfortunately most of the movies were dubbed, so I stuck with books and looking out the window.
I have to admit that I spent the first hour of the journey willing myself not to throw up, after having a bit of a panic about being trapped on a bus in a country where I barely speak the language. But once I relaxed, and convinced myself that everything was fine, it was an enjoyable ride. I tried to take a few pictures of the bus, but since it was dark none of them turned out - so I have to steal from the bus company website:
Food was included, although I regretted not bringing a few PB&J sandwiches to supplement. Dinner was a funny assortment - a slice of ham and a single olive (antipasti?), a tiny roll, a packet of mustard, ravioli with a piece of chicken (I think, there were weird bones and I decided against trying it), some sort of cake with an indeterminate filling and cherry jello. The bus attendant also brings around a basket (like you use at a grocery store) full of pop and beer to choose from - he kindly offered me the sole bottle of Budweiser since I was American, but I went with Diet Coke instead. The next day we also stopped for a lunch break in a tiny town about 150 miles south of Salta. You could choose from three dishes - ravioli, 1/4 chicken or a milenesa, which is a chicken breast (sometimes beef is used) that is pounded super thin until it's about the size of a plate, then breaded. These three options are typical dishes here and appear on the menu at probably 90% of the restaurants. They don't really embrace variety in this country!
There was an older man across the aisle from me, Pedro, and he was very nice (although we communicated solely in my terrible Spanish and sign language) and I sat with him and another woman at the lunch break. They would ask me questions, I would have to ask them to repeat it almost every time, and then I would attempt to answer. It was exhausting but good practice. And at the end of the ride Pedro gave me a holy card to protect me for my trip (more in my next post, but Salta is maybe the most Catholic place I have ever been) and said I was "muy simpatica"!
So I survived and we arrived to Salta about 40 minutes early. The rest of the trip in the next post!