JUST ANOTHER BORDER CROSSING
I thought I was done with crazy border crossing experiences after my 12 days stuck between Nicaragua and Costa Rica, until last night, when I chose this very remote border in the south of Patagonia, to cross from Argentina into Chile.
It started with a 160kms of gravel through the deserted Argentinean flats, into a surprisingly pretty valley through the mountains.
After a couple of hours the road got narrower and shittier, no traffic, probably 2 cars in 2 hours. Then I start to have trouble with the van, it started loosing power and suddenly would cut off.
Pretty stinky situation to be in, at 11:30PM in the middle of nowhere, but fortunately I managed to drag the Van to the Border, or a little house with a gate called Argentinean International Border.
Everything was shut as I expected, so I found a spot to park the Van and get ready for the night. Five minutes later I heard a “Buenas Noches”, coming from outside, four Argentinean officers where standing next to the van. They were asking me questions and wondering wtf I was doing there. Explanation accepted and the question “are you hungry?” is finally asked. Good sign I thought! So I followed them into a dungeon shack, where three others were eating a whole damn Cordeiro (Lamb), cooked patagonia style, listening to some Argentina folk music and drinking some cheap booze. Those man were the Argentina and Chilean officers, celebrating a birthday.
The evening started pretty normal with me eating like a beast, we were all chatting along, drinking cask red wine, and it ended up at 4am, with we all hugging each other, drinking pineapple cider out of the bottle, singing Brazilian country music and dancing macarena.
Next morning I got out of the van and took a good look at the mountains in the background, the view was is tuning, then I grabbed my papers and begin to walk in the direction of the office, wasn’t quite sure if I had dreamed it or I actually got drunk and danced with the border officers, until I walked in and see the macarena dance master, now on duty, with his beer belly tucked in his uniform, and a clear hangover face. We shake hands, he gives me a slightly ashamed smile then revises my papers. Papers done, passport stamped, the officer asks me to follow me on Facebook, gives me a home baked bread and wishes me good travels.
The Chilean sergeant, who obviously didn’t made it back to his side of the border after all that cider, walks in, holding the party speakers from last night, and asks me for a ride back into the Chilean side. So we cross it, I drop sergeant off, stamp my passport, then off I go!