At 11.56am on Wednesday 20th February we entered another country for the first time.
We left Argentina and entered Chile.
I think the border crossing at Paso Futaleufu ranks as the prettiest border crossing I have undertaken, shadowing a large aquamarine river pinned between high mountains. The actual border process, for both countries, were also completely painless, the border guards both relaxed and friendly.
There is one aspect common to all international crossings; when you pass from one country to another there is always a palpable change. On some crossings the difference is very obvious, such as when crossing from Canada into America, or when crossing the Tamar from Cornwall - (God's country) - into Devon - (England, a heathen land...).
Others, such as from Argentina into Chile, are no less noticeable, but also so subtle it is hard to put your finger on it.
And my new catch phrase, the one I am currently driving Sarah mad with..?
"I think I am going to like Chile".
It's only the hairs on a gooseberry, that stops it from being a grape.
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