Heading south by bus Day #3 El Calfate to Puerto Natales, Chile
January 16, 2020
El Calfate to Puerto Natales, Chile by bus
I slept reasonably well in the ghetto Estadía A.M.S.A. campground in El Calafate. I had to get up a few times during the night and one of my shoes had dog poop stuck to the tread. The stars were brilliant, but there was a bright light in the next lot.
Scott woke up at 7am, before me. My tent was wet with condensation, and I moved everything to a patch of sun to dry. There was human poop and toilet paper in the grass and I was careful not to step in it or soil my gear.
The shower was a bare trickle of hot water and I was able to clean myself. I also scrubbed the dog poop off the bottom of my shoe.
I talked with two cyclists whom had camped near us. A guy from Santiago had flown here two days ago and was beginning his northbound Carretera Austral ride to Coyhaique. I gave him a tube of patch cement. A British woman had ridden here from Baraloche. We talked about the epic crossing and she said that her tires were thinner than ours.
We rode over to Panaderia Don Luis which was packed with Japanese glacier enthusiasts. We took our time and full advantage of the WiFi. I had four croissants, two cappuccinos, and a cafe con leche. We noticed a tiny slug inching across our table, and were initially horrified. We then realized it had hitched a ride from the campground. Scott patiently guided the slug onto a napkin and took it outside. I would have crushed it. 
Scott was hungry for lunch, so we went to a place on the main strip. I had a sheep burger and a pint of Calafate ale. Afterwards, on the way to the bus station, I got my photo taken with the stuffed polar bear in front of the Polar bar.
We got to the bus station way too early, and were told not to worry. Queuing at check-in began at 4pm and we were first in line. Bus-Sur is incredibly officious with ticket checks, passenger list checks, cross checks, and passport control. We received Chilean custom forms and paid our bike fees with our remaining pesos.
We didn’t have to take apart our bikes and it was an easy roll into the bus’s luggage compartment.
We were given seat assignments 49 and 50, and wondered if the ticketing had started from the front. There were fifty eight seats on the bus. So yeah, we’ve traded our bike saddles for bus seats in search of the elusive penguin.
The bus made a big backwards 5 to get to Puerto Natales. It first traveled east on Route 11 and then south on Highway 40. Then it headed south east on Route 5 instead of staying on Highway 40, which was ripio (and the way we had plotted our cycling itinerary). The bus then cut northwest on Route 7.
The bus sped 100km an hour down the long narrow tarmac and there was very little clearance for traffic going the other way. The road definitely wasn’t cyclist friendly like an ACA route.
The barren expanse outside the window was similar to eastern Colorado. The passenger in the seat in front of me decided to recline her seat, jamming my knees which were already pinched. Scott thought it was hilarious and couldn’t stop laughing.
The bus had USB ports for phone charging and I was able to create a spring syllabus and next week’s schedule.
The bus then took a right, heading north on Highway 40, which was ripio. We were headed towards Torres del Paine, which had been on our original cycling itinerary.
We stopped at the Rio Turbo border crossing, and everyone had to exit the bus for passport control. There was a strong wind from the west that would have been brutal to pedal.
There were more formalities on the Chilean side of the border. We were told to bring all of our carry-on bags through customs, and that fruit and vegetables were not allowed. A fruit sniffing dog smelled all of our luggage stowed under the bus.
The mountains appeared on the Chilean side as did my Moviestar phone service.
The bus arrived at the Puerto Natales station at 9:30pm, two hours ahead of schedule. The friendly driver was curious about my cycling and asked me how much my bike had cost.
We purchased tickets for tomorrow’s bus to Punta Arenas. Navigation to the campground was easy with Moviestar phone service and google maps.
Camping Guino was only two blocks from the bus station. It was a tent city with incredible views of the port. There were numerous backpackers, and we ran into the French guy from Tortel, whom I had also met in Puerto Rio Tranquilo. He had taken the ferry from Tortel, and took the trek yesterday to Torres del Paine.
I rode to the grocery store for beer. Scott bought eggs for boiling, that ended up being bad. For dinner we enjoyed one my freeze dried Pad Thai dinners.
El Calfate to Puerto Natales, Chile by bus
I slept reasonably well in the ghetto Estadía A.M.S.A. campground in El Calafate. I had to get up a few times during the night and one of my shoes had dog poop stuck to the tread. The stars were brilliant, but there was a bright light in the next lot.
Scott woke up at 7am, before me. My tent was wet with condensation, and I moved everything to a patch of sun to dry. There was human poop and toilet paper in the grass and I was careful not to step in it or soil my gear.
The shower was a bare trickle of hot water and I was able to clean myself. I also scrubbed the dog poop off the bottom of my shoe.
I talked with two cyclists whom had camped near us. A guy from Santiago had flown here two days ago and was beginning his northbound Carretera Austral ride to Coyhaique. I gave him a tube of patch cement. A British woman had ridden here from Baraloche. We talked about the epic crossing and she said that her tires were thinner than ours.
We rode over to Panaderia Don Luis which was packed with Japanese glacier enthusiasts. We took our time and full advantage of the WiFi. I had four croissants, two cappuccinos, and a cafe con leche. We noticed a tiny slug inching across our table, and were initially horrified. We then realized it had hitched a ride from the campground. Scott patiently guided the slug onto a napkin and took it outside. I would have crushed it. 
Scott was hungry for lunch, so we went to a place on the main strip. I had a sheep burger and a pint of Calafate ale. Afterwards, on the way to the bus station, I got my photo taken with the stuffed polar bear in front of the Polar bar.
We got to the bus station way too early, and were told not to worry. Queuing at check-in began at 4pm and we were first in line. Bus-Sur is incredibly officious with ticket checks, passenger list checks, cross checks, and passport control. We received Chilean custom forms and paid our bike fees with our remaining pesos.
We didn’t have to take apart our bikes and it was an easy roll into the bus’s luggage compartment.
We were given seat assignments 49 and 50, and wondered if the ticketing had started from the front. There were fifty eight seats on the bus. So yeah, we’ve traded our bike saddles for bus seats in search of the elusive penguin.
The bus made a big backwards 5 to get to Puerto Natales. It first traveled east on Route 11 and then south on Highway 40. Then it headed south east on Route 5 instead of staying on Highway 40, which was ripio (and the way we had plotted our cycling itinerary). The bus then cut northwest on Route 7.
The bus sped 100km an hour down the long narrow tarmac and there was very little clearance for traffic going the other way. The road definitely wasn’t cyclist friendly like an ACA route.
The barren expanse outside the window was similar to eastern Colorado. The passenger in the seat in front of me decided to recline her seat, jamming my knees which were already pinched. Scott thought it was hilarious and couldn’t stop laughing.
The bus had USB ports for phone charging and I was able to create a spring syllabus and next week’s schedule.
The bus then took a right, heading north on Highway 40, which was ripio. We were headed towards Torres del Paine, which had been on our original cycling itinerary.
We stopped at the Rio Turbo border crossing, and everyone had to exit the bus for passport control. There was a strong wind from the west that would have been brutal to pedal.
There were more formalities on the Chilean side of the border. We were told to bring all of our carry-on bags through customs, and that fruit and vegetables were not allowed. A fruit sniffing dog smelled all of our luggage stowed under the bus.
The mountains appeared on the Chilean side as did my Moviestar phone service.
The bus arrived at the Puerto Natales station at 9:30pm, two hours ahead of schedule. The friendly driver was curious about my cycling and asked me how much my bike had cost.
We purchased tickets for tomorrow’s bus to Punta Arenas. Navigation to the campground was easy with Moviestar phone service and google maps.
Camping Guino was only two blocks from the bus station. It was a tent city with incredible views of the port. There were numerous backpackers, and we ran into the French guy from Tortel, whom I had also met in Puerto Rio Tranquilo. He had taken the ferry from Tortel, and took the trek yesterday to Torres del Paine.
I rode to the grocery store for beer. Scott bought eggs for boiling, that ended up being bad. For dinner we enjoyed one my freeze dried Pad Thai dinners.
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