The Argentine / Chilean Border

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Eeeek!! What am I doing here? Last thing I knew I'd caught my bus and was heading to Santiago / Valparaiso for a few days sight seeing before catching my plane to NZ with its English speaking, tea drinking inhabitants from Santiago. So what on earth do I see as I wake in the morning still on my overnight bus and clearly miles from civilisation. Peeling back my eye lids I see lots of trucks and buses surrounding me. All looking very stationary as well. Ouch. This can't be good. Spanish translation of the bus drivers speech reveals that we're not going anywhere quickly. Snow has forced the authorities to close the border. The mountain pass across the Andes is failing to live up to its name and is impassable. So when will it open?? A shrug of the shoulders isn't reassuring. Oh well, plans to visit Valparaiso are evaporating but surely we won't have to go back to Cordoba. That would also mean that plans to catch a plane would similarly eveaporate. Hang on surely a two day cushion is enough?? Well this is South America so who knows. The good news is that whilst no one takes a decision we get to sleep on the bus. Luckily its a cama. Thats the good news. The bad news is that the heating will be off all night and its.. well its the Andes so its high up and going to get parky.

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Two days later I'm smellier, colder and resigned to missing my flight. i even get as far as texting people to try and get Quantas's number to let them know. Plans are thwarted further by the battery dying. Batteries never last long at high altitude but my motorola is biting the dust at an impressive rate even with this factored in. With a six hour journey ahead and a late check the bus has to start moving at 1pm. At 1 I'm reaching for the dying cellular to make the fateful call and lordy if the wheels beneath me don't start to move. So, we're underway but with absolutely no fat. If anything goes wrong I'm buggered.

.....and it does. The backlog of people thru customs is enormous. It takes forever. Plane missed. Hang on. There's a time difference of an hour. Which way he asks with trepidation? Back. Superb!! game back on.

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So the helpful drivers push pedal to the metal and drop me off on the outskirts of Santiago nearest the airport. All I have to do now is hail a taxi from a motorway. Experience told me this wasn't going to be easy but St Christopher the patron saint of travellers must have been smiling on me that evening (well he had been bloody crap for two days so he had a lot to make up for). Would you believe i got to check in....ON TIME??

Smelling like a tramp I boarded the plane and shedding a tear I waved a fond farewell to South America. Sniff, sniff.