The Port reminds me of a toy box in a giant’s kid’s room.
It is walled off from the public with a tall iron fence and each of its entrances is protected by security guards who don’t want people entering without proper credentials. Along the fence’s length you watch big forklifts, big trucks, big containers, big projects, big ships. I am looking for a ferry that can take me to Buenos Aires in a week, doing investigative work before things actually happen. When you don’t speak even grammar school Spanish you need all the time you can to get your passport in order, get your times and tickets, get where you are supposed to be figured out.
The Port is full of shipping containers that are lifted out of massive ships, one at a time, with huge cranes and huge magnets. A crane operator swings his crane into position, lowers a magnet, lifts a container out of its ships hold and gently swings it back over tarmac into a receiving area where men with pencils and notepads keep count.
Separate from the Port ( where you can’t go without authorization), is a ferry called the Burquebus. This is where cars and people catch a boat ride going twice a day to Argentina.
When I get to the front desk at Burguebus I ask about the trip and a lady points to one of her co-workers and says “Ingles.” That means he is the one that takes care of Americans and other non-Spanish speakers.
“Do you have your Argentina Visa?” the bearded young man with wire rim glasses asks?
It turns out, that to enter Argentina, Americans have to buy a 10 year special Argentinian VISA for $200.00 U.S. You can go on line and complete the application and pay for it, then print it out as proof before you board.
At this moment I know this is more trouble and money than I want to endure. It is going to cost more to visit Argentina for a day than it is for a bus to Punta Del Este and a hotel room for a week.
I call and cancel my bed and breakfast in Buenos Aires.
It is hard to run a business when politics runs off your customers.
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