Canada to Patagonia at a Worrying Age

The office I had to go to is in the ´burbs a couple of blocks from a stop on the very efficient Santiago Metro. The area is one of general law enforcement all crammed into one space just off a motorway. It became clear that the place I was looking for was near a huge building site. Could it be this place next door (i.e. about 50km in searing heat)? No, this would be the prison, with all the attendant lovely people outside waiting to deliver cakes with files in. No you can`t have a cigarette/money/new life, I`m looking for this sodding office. Oh it`s the other side of the motorway is it?

Over motorway – weather getting hotter. Surly garage man. No it`s the other side of the motorway. Back over we go `Hey Amigo can you give me all your possessions, I`m broke.`No.`

Surely it can`t actually be the building site? Oh yes it can. Just walk around it for twenty minutes, you`ll soon find where you need to be.

Hello, can I have the police report that was 10cm from my hand yesterday, please. A scene from seminal 70s sit-com, Mind Your Language ensued. Appropriate given the attitude of the building-site workmen to mujeres passing by. This included me being given a `wait-you-turn´ticket which I didn`t need because a very nice English-speaking woman had come to my rescue. However, in this office the possession of a ticket means service so we went through series 2 episode 4 of MYL just for old times sake.

When my friend returned it was to tell me, surprise surprise, that the report would not be there until tomorrow at the earliest – 3pm if I`m lucky. And here´s your crime number, written on a piece of paper so flimsy it might as well be my name on a grain of rice (hey, a good business idea). I´m copying it here in case a bee mistakes it for a grain of pollen and nicks it (0600062016-3).

OK, I`ll come back tomorrow. Yes, your lawyer will be able to see you then. Lawyer? Why do I need a lawyer. It´s the way we do things in Chile. Fine.

See my old prison-visiting friends on the way out. `Hey Amigo, can you please buy me a car for my ill baby?´or something. Who knows what will happen tomorrow. Me and my brief will no doubt hold a conference and then enact a scene from To Kill a Mockingbird in the neighbouring courthouse. That prison is uncomfortably close by the way.

Poor woman in the hotel tried to change my hotel room, from the one with the nice balcony to the one with a view of a lift shaft. Wrong day to ask, my dear.

Tried to track down a JVC Mininote in Santiago`s specialist importer of that firm`s gear. “No existe in Chile.” So that bloke has probably got the only sodding one in the country. Hope it breaks today. Haven`t bothered looking for Benq cameras or Vuarnet sunglasses as they definitely won`t be here, will go looking for replacements now.

Attempting to find the United game on a pub. Slim chance, but who knows…

Thanks for messages etc. I note there are no cash offers. Still, I´ll stuggle on.

Lots of love,

Mr Gringo Victim, January 2006

Note just in (thanks Vic) – “Their policy does not cover glasses or sunglasses.” That`ll be Atlas Insurance, everybody. A firm that specialises in long trip holiday insurance does not cover sunglasses. No surprise really, why would anyone take sunglasses on holiday? If anyone wants to ring them, say for half am hour, with the most complicated journey imaginable and then ask at the end, “And are my sunglasses covered?”, feel free to do so.

PS – turns out that the odd pic can be uploaded…

Tags: Bureaucracy, Chile, Travel

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