La Plata was my planned easy break from Buenos Aires because after a week, you do need a break from Buenos Aires—no offence, Buenos Aires.
“Mar del Plata?”
“No, La Plata without Mar. The city without a beach just outside Buenos Aires, not the resort with beaches several hours south,” I explained over and over again to anyone vaguely interested in my travel plans.
I’ve never been to Mar del Plata. Maybe one day I will but it’s a five- or six-hour bus trip from Buenos Aires, it’s expensive and the beaches are nicer in Brazil (the latter was only admitted by drunk Argentinians in Floripa, they would never say this out loud in Argentina).
I picked La Plata because it’s easy. It was one of the first trips we took with toddler Mark precisely because it’s close to Buenos Aires. Kiddo wasn’t ready yet to take the bus all the way to Patagonia or, ahem, Brazil (we waited until he turned five…).
I found an Airbnb and booked it for four nights, may as well.
How to go to La Plata by train (just don’t)
Going to La Plata seemed so easy that I kept on postponing researching ways to actually get to La Plata.
“We took the train to La Plata, right?” I asked Feng one night.
“Yeah… and then we took the bus back.”
“I vaguely remember there were no trains.”
“We had to rush to the bus station at the last minute.”
I shrugged. Happens. I googled “Buenos Aires to La Plata.” Yep, the train still exists. Perfect.
I walked past Retiro one day. I stepped into the station to check the train schedule to La Plata but the station was empty, trains were not running and, apparently, workers were mad at Milei.
Well, it’s fine, it’s not like I needed to take the train… yet.
“So did you decide how to get to La Plata?” both Feng and my mum asked the day later.
“Subway from Lavalle to Constitución, and then the train to La Plata.”
“What’s the schedule?”
“Whenever it shows up. Apparently, it’s every… 20 or 30 minutes.”
“Do you have your ticket already?”
“Nah, you just tap your subway card. I’ll get one tomorrow.”
How do I get a SUBE card already? Right, the nearest kiosco. Except none of the kioscos on Lavalle and Florida were selling cards. I went to the Lavalle subway station and asked to buy one.
“Sorry, we don’t sell them here.”
“Oh.”
“Try Constitución. Just take the subway, don’t worry about the fare,” the employee said, waving me through.
So far, very positive experience with Buenos Aires subway, 10/10, would recommend.
Buenos Aires is the only Argentine city with a metro system. Like many things in Buenos Aires, it’s old and you can’t help wondering how it’s still working but I could say the same about many subway lines in Paris, so who am I to judge.
I bought my SUBE card inside the Constitución station and asked the kind employee about the train to La Plata at the same time.
“It runs every thirty minutes or so, right?”
“You’re taking the train to La Plata? But why?”
I was starting to wonder myself but the only other option I knew about was a $30 Uber ride versus the 450-peso train (about $US4.5). I’m cheap, I’m a socialist and I like riding trains.
I spent a night waiting for the laundry to dry (not literally), checked out of my Buenos Aires Airbnb and walked to the Lavalle subway station at the corner of the street. I found the train easily at Constitución—perfect. It was 11:40 a.m. and a train was leaving at 11:54 a.m.
I took a seat by the window and put my backpack next to me because there was really nowhere else to put it. The train started to fill up. We left on time. I smiled. La Plata, here I come!
At the next station, a bunch of guys selling candies and cold drinks came on board. I had a chicken bus feeling.
At the one after, a guy with a guitar joined us and entertained the crowd for about 10 minutes.
And at the third station, a guy tried to grab my phone from the open window—I was quicker and I have a good grip on my phone when I pull it out to check something, in this case, if I was going in the right direction.
I sighed.
Okay, it was going to be this kind of trip.
The train got hotter—no air con—and rowdier. The woman in front of me poured a bottle of water on her head. The one on the left started smoking nervously.
Wilde, Don Bosco, Bernal, Quilmes, Ezpeleta, Berazategui, Plátanos, Hudson, Pereyra, Villa Elisa…
An hour later I was nowhere close to La Plata. I was bored without my phone as well and I had the feeling taking my Kindle out of my bag wasn’t a good idea either.
“Just enjoy the view or sleep!” I usually tell Mark if I take his tablet away when we’re travelling. Except I had closed the window to avoid the “people who grab your stuff through the open window” issue and there was some kind of advertising on the glass blocking the view. As for sleeping, ah ah, as if.
I eventually made it to La Plata around 2 p.m.
“Were we crazy to take Mark on the train back then or is the service really bad now?” I asked Feng later that night.
“I remember there was no air con. But it was probably safer.”














La Plata to Buenos by micro, yes, you can!
I spent four lovely days in La Plata (more on that later) entertaining strangers when explaining I had taken the train to their cute and confusing city. Some laughed. Some gave me a hug as if I had survived WWIII.
And, obviously, I wasn’t keen on taking the train back to Buenos Aires.
“Micro!”
Micro what?
I learn new slang all the time. Like, a week ago, I realized that people count money in “lucas”, one luca is 1,000.
Well, you don’t take the bus, you take the micro.
My favourite coffee provider in La Plata showed me where the bus station was.
I checked out of my Airbnb and hoped for the best.
Obviously, I didn’t know when the bus was because nobody knew either. Apparently, you just line up and wait for one to show up.
I didn’t wait for long, maybe ten minutes.
I paid the fare with my subway card and once again, took a seat by the window with my backpack next to me because, once again, there was nowhere else to put it.
The micro takes the autopista. It drove straight to Buenos Aires, we got there in less than 45 minutes.
People started to get off at Puerto Madero. I figured I’d get off as well whenever it would stop to avoid the giant Retiro bus station. I got off Plaza de Mayo and took the subway to my next Airbnb, in San Telmo.
Take the bus, people.
Or hope that Milei stops cutting train service.













I’m not really experienced as a traveller, I would have never thought of such things. Honestly, I think I would have been very uncomfortable
The weirdest part is, I didn’t feel uncomfortable in the train because it was packed with “normal” people. It wasn’t creepy. Like, I would have been scared alone with only a couple of passengers.
But honestly it’s mostly hot, slow and questionably safe. Not a death trap, just… not the best.
Wow I’m glad you did not lose your phone! That’s wild!
Reminder to myself to pay attention… but it could happen anywhere, really.