We emerged unscathed from the Taxi and entered the airport. A maze of wait-line ropes covered the vast expanse in front of us. In the distance, our first objective: the check in booth. First we had to fend off the line-cutters. There are very prevalent in this territory. Then the passport-checkers dressed in green. Approved! Now we zig-zag back and forth through the ropes. And then...the dreaded...the feared... the wait for the next available agent. They must have 50 employees behind the desks, but only 6 or so actually seem to be working. We make it to the counter. The electronic scanner fails to read my passport number. The agent tries again. And again. And again. He looks to his supervisor. She tells him to try again. He does. Still nothing. She tries it. Nothing. Finally they reserve themselves to manually typing in the 10 digit number. The humanity! Before long we make it through security and passport control (yes, MORE passport control). We enter...the airport. We are three hours early to our rendezvous with the plane. It's a good thing...this airport is a jungle that needs to be navigated with caution. First...the duty free store. Here are all sorts of temptations. A recent hunt yielded raw steaks and ribs. The perfect accompaniment to a 15 hour flight. Or cigarettes with ominous, obvious, and effective warnings, including one apparently directed at our friend Winston. We venture deeper into the airport. The light open spaces descend into a labyrinth of tighter and darker hallways. We walk for a quarter mile. We pass wood paneled hallways, black painted hallways, glass hallways, white hallways, grey hallways. It feels like this is a longer hike than the one up to the Martial Glacier this morning. Just when we reach a moment of despair...light! Openess! The gate! We found it. Now the three hour wait begins. Time to blog.... (yes...we are tired. It is 2 in the morning, we've been up since 6, and been all over the place).
Some raw meat to chew on during your long flight?
I like Argentina's Surgeon General. Much more effective message.
Winston: a message apparently directed at you. Don't start smoking!
The glass hallway
The cream hallway
The grey hallway. Not shown: the wood paneling hallway and the glossy black hallway. The gate is around here somewhere...