More of the Aerolineas Argentinas – The Cattle Car Company

On this trip, I had yet another opportunity to observe this paragon of Argentine efficiency. Belonging to the Argentine state, a thinly veiled version of Italian disorganization, they have previously destroyed, not scratched, dented or marred, two of my indestructible bags. They have made me miss international connections, resulting in my sleeping on the airport benches, stuffing myself with Argentine asado and generally suffering abuse, some self inflicted but unnecessary and all resulting from the company’s ineptitude… The list is actually impressive, but I am synopsizing.

Nothing in the following account actually surprised me but it seemed charmingly anecdotal in a retrospective way that bore relating here. From Salta, I had to fly to Buenos Aires to take my flight to Lima and suspecting that something might run afoul, I took precautions to fly the night before and stay in a hotel in BA. While working in the office the secretary came to me and said, “Your flight will be thirty minutes late or early…” Since early could mean I might miss it, I bustled to the airport.

She had booked me on a flight that came from B A and returned directly…supposedly. The day before there had been a strike and so things were in a typical state of disorder. Now it takes 2 hours to fly from Buenos Aires to Salta so when I got to the airport, supposedly with no more time than an hour to check in, imagine my surprise when the AA agent told me that the flight was delayed 2 hours! This meant that the plane had still not taken off from BA yet and certainly had not when they told Zulema that I had to hustle to the airport. It takes less than 30 minutes to get to the airport from the office. Still, no problem, I would be in BA by eight pm, in time to eat dinner and get to the hotel, I thought.

The flight landed at 5:30 pm, 2½ hours late and the passengers left the plane. We stood there looking out at the tarmac. No one moved… Then, stevedores appeared and began to remove more luggage from the plane. Suddenly another group of passengers emerged inexplicably onto the tarmac. They began to mill about among the luggage, apparently indicating their own. Then mysteriously, the stevedores loaded the luggage back into the plane and the passengers re-embarked.

Recall, that the plane was to be a simple return flight to BA now because here things get a little strange. At no point did an agent appear to tell us what might be going on. Left to speculate, all manner of theories uttered forth from my newly acquainted travel companions. We stood in awe and wonder, mostly wonder honestly.

Once all of this ended, they herded us with smiles and without a single word of explanation. Told to hurry and get stuff put away we settled in among the mystery passengers. Once situated, the purser came on the intercom, “Welcome ladies and germs. The travel time to Jujuy will be 25 minutes…” I had never been to Jujuy and would have liked to go to say I have been there but this added a full hour and a half to my flight. One of the exiting passengers told me that he had started trying to get home to Jujuy from Mendoza that morning at 6am! Gads Zooks! You can drive it in that much time.