Stories of a trip to 🇺🇾Uruguay and 🇦🇷Argentina: DAY 0 and DAY 12
It wasn't a time for changing jobs, and it was my first time taking two weeks off while still employed (even though it included some Golden Week holidays). Will there be work when I get back? Can I even work at all? Such empty concerns. Man, I'm really glad I traveled to Uruguay and Argentina. So, first, DAY 0. The story of getting there. Actually, I think I'll write about the return trip too, DAY 0 and DAY 12.
For Japanese airlines, pickled ginger is the deciding factor
Outbound
Haneda → Los Angeles → Santiago → Montevideo
Haneda → Los Angeles: ANA
Los Angeles onwards: LATAM
Return
Montevideo → Santiago → New York → Haneda
Until New York: LATAM
New York → Haneda: JAL
Actually, this was my first time flying with a Japanese airline on an international flight. When I was a student traveling to Europe, I only used local airlines, so I was surprised at how relaxing it was. Both were economy class, but JAL was overwhelmingly more comfortable in terms of seating. The meals were about the same, or rather, I discovered that they serve similar menus. On the outbound flight, the beef bowl-style menu sold out right before they reached me, and they were very apologetic (I had eaten at the lounge before boarding, so I was planning to skip the in-flight dinner, so it wasn't a big deal), but a beef bowl-style menu was offered on the return flight as well. It might sound rude to say this, but it wasn't the beef bowl, it was the pickled ginger that was the best part. I'd like both airlines to please be generous with the pickled ginger.
The American system: LAX
On the outbound flight in Los Angeles, I had a 2-hour layover before the flight to Santiago. My feeling before going was that the whole process of immigration → picking up luggage → checking luggage with LATAM → security check (departure) might be quite tight. As a result, I ended up sliding into the gate drenched in sweat right at the time it was closing, thinking I might not make the flight.
What influenced this was that immigration took over an hour, which was the main factor. I deplaned around 15:10 and was in the immigration line by 15:20. In front of me was a white woman also traveling alone, and she also seemed to be a transfer passenger, constantly checking the time. 10 minutes passed. Only one line was moving (we were made to snake through, and I was initially in the 6th line), and while I thought, 'This pace is no good, 10 minutes for just one line,' at this point I still had enough composure to start reading a book. My companion this time was
Kazuo Ishiguro's 'The Unconsoled'and since the series of strange descriptions that easily transcend time and space are somewhat difficult, it requires quite a bit of concentration. After drifting into the world of the book for a while, I returned to the Los Angeles immigration line at 15:55. I had intended to pass through here in about 30 minutes, but the line was still long. I received a notification from the app that the gate for Santiago would close at 16:45, so I checked my smartphone to get a grasp of the layout of the airport. The Santiago gate was the second one from the security exit, so the distance was okay, and I had a rough idea of where the LATAM counter was, so when I tried to return to the world of the book, the woman in front of me seemed to have someone from the same ethnic group (German speakers) in the next line, and they started getting excited, talking about how this is the American system, isn't it.
16:10. Finally reached the point where there was only one line left.
16:20. Finally, I was directed to a counter number and joined that line.
16:25. A cheerful female officer started asking, 'Wait, why are you going to Uruguay? Is it a personal trip?' which felt like a question based on her personal interest. I laughed and said, 'No, my next flight is closing, please let me go quickly,' and she said, 'Oh, right, sorry, sorry!' and let me through energetically. Seriously, give me a break.
16:27. At the ANA baggage claim, the luggage of transfer passengers was gathered separately (or rather, my Rimowa was just sitting there alone), and the ANA staff were calling out for me. I apologized, saying, 'Oh, I'm kmr, sorry I'm late, the line just wouldn't move,' and a person who spoke fluent Japanese guided me, saying, 'Next is on the floor above,' so I headed to the LATAM counter for now.
16:35. The LATAM counter was wrapped in silence. There was only one female staff member, and when I showed her my ticket, she told me that check-in was already closed and the next flight was at night. 'What? I'm supposed to be on the 17:05 flight,' I said, and she suddenly panicked, saying, 'Oh! Wait, your name!' Yes, that's the job I need you to do. I dashed to security with my Rimowa, which couldn't be checked in, while telling her to inform the gate staff that I would be late because I was going through security now, and she said, 'OK, OK!'
16:40. Security was another line. There were people of all races, but as an Osakan, I had no choice but to do it. I kept saying in English and Spanish that the gate would close in 5 minutes and I needed to go first, and I managed to cut in front of about 15 people. May good things happen to everyone from that time.
16:45. Arrived at LATAM gate 132 for Santiago. Drenched in sweat. I made it...
The American system: JFK
The return trip had a 4-hour layover. I thought it would be fine this time, but the Germans' 'American system' crossed my mind.
The JFK immigration counters were L-shaped (LAX was I-shaped), and one line was dedicated to people who I couldn't tell if they were African or Caribbean. All the windows in that line were operating, and groups that looked like collections of large families were lined up at many windows, and people of all ages, from babies who couldn't stand in line to the elderly, were overflowing onto the floor in front of the windows. Moreover, while I was waiting, not a single group passed through the window, so I was very curious about how much time that took and what they were doing. This might also be the American system.
After waiting for 5 minutes, I reached the window immediately. As expected of New York. I was asked the standard question by a guy with glasses, 'Where are you going in America?' and I gave the same answer that made the female officer at LAX laugh: 'Unfortunately, I'm just transferring, I want to get out of here as soon as possible.' The guy with glasses said, 'Don't say that,' while letting me through. The difference from LAX is huge. What is this? It was so smooth that I ended up drinking a beer before noon. A Miller from Wisconsin, where I had done a homestay.
Clean and huge Santiago airport
On the outbound trip, it was before sunrise, and on the return trip, it was a night transit, and since I wasn't there for more than 2 hours either time, I didn't eat or buy anything at the shops. However, it was a very easy-to-understand and well-organized airport, and the transfer process was also very smooth.
According to the wife of a friend I met in Uruguay, Santiago has the highest level of safety (which I suppose means income as well) in South America, and IKEA only has a store in Santiago in South America, so some people even go to Chile from Uruguay to buy IKEA furniture.
Personally, I really liked the structure of the high ceilings and pillars, and just passing through it got me excited.
That's something I can say now, but when I was looking at the map displayed on the screen during the outbound flight, there was an incident (for me) where the arrival time in Santiago was displayed as 7:30. What this meant was that the gate for the Santiago (8:25) → Montevideo flight closes at 8:05, and the scheduled layover time was 1.5 hours. Yet, the arrival time on the screen was 7:30. Wait, isn't that strange? A delay? Am I going to have to dash again and have people of various races let me cut in line?
While pondering with various delusions, I switched from in-flight Wi-Fi to eSIM immediately upon landing. Then, my iPhone displayed 6:30. What. Where is 7:30?
Anyway, I deplaned and went through the transfer luggage check and headed to the gate. They even displayed a 9-minute walking estimate, which I was grateful for, but if it's 8:00 now, I won't make it by the 8:05 gate closing, so I should run. So I arrived at the designated gate, but it was closed. However, the board showed 8:25, so this was the flight I was taking. I asked a guy sitting in a nearby chair for the time, and he told me it was 7:07. He gave me a look like, 'What is this guy saying when he has an iPhone?' so I explained a little, and he understood the situation and said, 'It's the time difference.' That's right, it's the time difference.
So I washed my face slowly, wandered around the airport, and got my fill of steel frames. I'd like to visit the city of Chile next time.
