One Apple A Day #174
Lago Posada, January 7th, 2017
From outside, the custom’s office on the Chilean side reminded us one of the refuges that are common in our mountains. The barrier blocking the road could have been the entrance to a farm if it weren’t for the big sign telling us that we were leaving the country. Behind the bar, on the uneven field on the right, a group of guys were playing football. Considering the freezing gale that welcomed us when we arrived, we stared at them with admiration for a few minutes.
Inside the small wooden building, we waited for our turn with the customs officer. He was discussing with a Japanese guy but, despite their efforts, without significant results. The officer didn’t know a word in English, and the Japanese guy didn’t speak a word in Spanish. Somehow they seemed to reach an agreement, so we had our opportunity to get a new stamp on our passports.
Then the officers lifted the barrier, and we both — us and the Japanese with his little motorbike — entered the no man’s land between the two countries. We just had the time to witness the celebration of the orange team for their victory in the windy soccer match before heading towards Argentina in the setting sun.
The Argentinian border is even smaller. A few wooden shacks, all closed but the one with the customs officers. There we discover that the officer in Chile forgot to stamp the passport of the Japanese guy, but he stamped twice one of our passports. We shared some jokes with the officers in our Italian Spanish and, before restarting our trip in Argentina, we hugged the Japanese guy who had to go back to the Chile border. In our memories, he is still living in the no man’s land between Chile and Argentina.