Part 2 at: http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/Forum81/HTML/003142.html

Sunday, October 6
Varig 8641 – SCL to EZE (Buenos Aires)
SCL to POA (Porto Alegre, Brazil) after diversion
MD-11 (710 MP Miles)

There was not a lot of traffic and we made good time to the Santiago airport. There was no line at the Varig Business Class / Star Gold desk and I was quickly checked in. I asked about interlining my trusty Briggs & Riley over to United at EZE for the connecting flight to Miami. No problema, señor. And Varig even issued me the boarding pass for my connecting UA flight. The Varig agent reminded me that I was more than welcome to use the Red Carpet Club as a *G international traveler and sent me on my way.

I quickly cleared outbound immigration and airport security. Since I forgot to buy a bottle of Pisco I stopped in at the duty free shop before heading downstairs to the Santiago Red Carpet Club. Just me and the staff; there were no other passengers. Inside I found an open bar, a small selection of snacks (mixed nuts, fruit, sandwiches) and a fairly good assortment of magazines and newspapers.

About an hour before my 2:30 p.m. departure I decided to go look around the terminal. This airport had more variety of stores and restaurants compared to Buenos Aires. Anticipating a longish layover in EZE, I changed most of my remaining Chilean pesos into Argentine pesos then found a seat near the gate. Nearby was a little boy traveling with his mom and another woman. He came over and said Hola and wanted to know if he could borrow something to write with. I gave him a pen and said he could keep it which made him quite happy.

Boarding commenced and, just because I could, I boarded first. No rubber glove squad anywhere to be seen! I was assigned an economy seat over the wing and once again there weren’t many passengers. This flight was scheduled to continue on to Sao Paulo, so I guessed that more passengers were expected to board at EZE.

We pushed back right at 2:30 p.m. and were airborne shortly thereafter. The mountains were covered in clouds so no parting view of the Andes. My new friend and his mom came back to visit me; she said that her son Cesar had been asking all about his new “tio” (Uncle) since they got on board and he wanted to say hi. We got to talking; she lived in Santiago and was traveling with her sister from Lima along with Cesar to meet up with her husband and brother in Buenos Aires for a vacation. Cesar was in second grade in Santiago and reminded me a lot of my own 6 year old back home. Turns out he likes to watch Power Rangers and Bob El Esponga (SpongeBob Squarepants), play basketball, and ride his bicycle – just like my own son. Soon it was time for lunch so we all returned to our seats. I wasn’t particularly hungry so I just ate the dessert and had some soda.

As we got closer to Buenos Aires I started noticing thunderhead clouds. The captain didn’t say anything about bad weather at EZE, but when we broke through the ceiling on the descent it was apparent that we were in fairly unstable air. It was choppy, not really that bad, but it didn’t feel right to me for some reason. When we turned on to the base leg of the approach, the plane started feeling like it was being pushed around by the wind. Turning to final, the flight crew was having some challenges keeping the attitude of our MD-11 stable as we pitched up and down. The wings were also flapping about, which didn’t particularly concern me since I knew they are designed to flex.

As we crossed over the airport fence I thought to myself that we were too high and I guessed that we would be aborting the landing. Suddenly the bottom dropped out from under us and I immediately thought “Wind Shear!”. The flight crew aborted the landing, going to full power and executing their missed approach procedure. We climbed out and after the flight crew raised the flaps and landing gear I thought we’d be circling back to try again. But the airshow display now showed our destination as Montevideo, Uruguay and we were still climbing.

Montevideo (MVD) is across the Rio Plata from Buenos Aires, a short flight. However we kept right on climbing. A few more minutes passed then the airshow display indicated our destination as Porto Alegre, Brazil (POA). We climbed to 33,000 feet and passed right past MVD. The captain finally came on the PA and announced that the Buenos Aires airport had closed due to weather and we were diverting to Porto Alegre. So sit back, relax, and enjoy your flight. I think the flying time was 90 minutes or so from that point over Uruguay.

So our primary alternate MVD was closed down and we were diverting to his secondary alternate, POA. I thought we would go to POA and wait out the storm, refuel, then go back to EZE. It was not to be.

Needless to say I had never heard of Porto Alegre and started digging through the seat pocket in front of me to find a Varig route map. Turns out it is a large city on the coast halfway between the border with Uruguay and the city of Sao Paulo. It is also the capital of the southeastern Brazilian state of Rio Grande do Sol. I wondered to myself what kind of third world airport we would be landing at as I tried to take a nap.

Our approach and landing at POA was uneventful. The airport itself was a modern international airport (sigh of relief) with mostly Varig and TAM aircraft parked at the terminal. We pulled into a gate and waited to see what would happen. The captain had told us that a Varig agent would be meeting the flight to give us instructions.

Ten minutes passed and an announcement was made that the Buenos Aires airport was closed and we would not be going there tonight. All Buenos Aires passengers were to gather their belongings and leave the plane; Varig would arrange to take us to a hotel for the night. The passengers on board for Sao Paulo should stay on board as the flight would continue on after the Buenos Aires luggage was unloaded. We will pass out the arrival cards for Brazil now.

I was really grateful that I was bilingual as the English version of the announcement was, shall we say, somewhat abridged.

Then alarm bells started going off in my head. Brazil is one of those countries that requires visas of US citizens. Uh, oh, I might have a problem. I stopped the purser and told him, “I am a US citizen and I do not have a visa for Brazil.” Of course he asks “Why not?” and I tell him I had no plans to visit Brazil on this trip. He kind of laughs and says, “Well welcome to Brazil” then said to get my things and follow him. He’d explain to the authorities.

Turns out I was the only US citizen on the plane. We head down the jetway where we found an officer. The purser started talking to him in Portuguese, of which I didn’t understand except for a few key words. As in “blah blah blah – visa – blah blah blah – American – blah blah blah – Buenos Aires” . . . you get the idea. The officer says something and then the purser said everything was ok and I should follow the other passengers from our flight.

So about fifty of us head downstairs to the immigration hall. Nobody was there, they had all gone home. The Varig agent waved us past the empty Brazilian Federal Police desks and into the baggage claim area. He announced in Spanish that Varig already had called in enough buses to take us all to a hotel for the night and that we would be given dinner and a room courtesy of the airline. Tomorrow morning the buses would take us back to the airport after breakfast and arrangements would be made to get us to Buenos Aires.

Throughout all of this there was no complaining from the passengers and constant communication to us from Varig, albeit in Spanish, as to what was going on.

It took almost an hour for our luggage to get unloaded from our unexpected arrival. During this time, I found my new friends from Chile and Peru and we decided we’d stick together. We all gathered our bags and followed the Varig agent over to the customs hall. Again there are no officers present and we just marched right on through.

I was now in Brazil. No visa. No entry stamp. No tourist card. An illegal alien.

We march through the deserted terminal and I notice a money exchange booth. Another passenger noticed it at the same time and we told each other, “Let’s run over there and change some money”. Neither of us had the slightest idea what the exchange rate was or even the name of the Brazilian currency (turned out to be 3.1 Reals for a U.S. dollar). I change fifty dollars and run outside to the waiting buses. Even though it was nearly 9 p.m. the heat and humidity envelope me immediately; this was no Santiago springtime weather here.

We all pile on buses; my new friends had saved me a seat. We start driving through Porto Alegre towards our hotel. Of course we have no idea where we are going or what kind of place we are going to end up at. We rode for 20 minutes across town and pulled up in front of a big beautiful modern looking Holiday Inn. We’re instructed to go to the reception desk and fill out a registration card. The clerk asks if I’m by myself and I respond in the affirmative and I’m given a key. He tells me that Varig has arranged for a complimentary buffet dinner to be served in the restaurant for all of us in 45 minutes. I find Cesar’s mom and suggest that we all meet for dinner.

My eighth floor room was very nice. Marble bathroom with jacuzzi tub and separate shower, remote control air conditioning, cable TV, king size bed, refrigerator, two phones. The first order of business, after turning the A/C up to its maximum, is to call United Airlines to let them know I wasn’t going to be on flight 854 from EZE to MIA that night.

I try calling the toll free number for Brazil listed in my ticket jacket. Strike one: The UA office has closed for the night. Ok, let’s try calling the Argentina office. Strike two, they're gone too. Chile also had gone home. Strike three. Just for fun I tried calling the 800 number in the USA. Got a Brazilian telephone system message that I guessed meant that connecting to that number was out of the question.

So I call home. My wife picks up the phone and says, “Aren’t you supposed to be on a plane?” I tell her to write down this phone number and give her the number of the hotel. She calls back right away and I tell her the short version of the story. And since I can’t reach United Airlines, I gave her the 800 number and ask her to call them to rebook me for tomorrow night’s flight from Buenos Aires to Miami. She said she’d call me right back after talking to United.

She calls back and says that I’m rebooked for tomorrow and oh, by the way, United says you now owe them $100 for changing your itinerary. Swell.

I also call the Doubletree in Miami to let them know I was going to be delayed. The first time I called, the receptionist transfered me to central reservations. So I had to call back a second time. My phone bill in the morning was going to be ugly...

I head downstairs for dinner. The hotel had set out a selection of hot dishes, beef, chicken, pasta along with a small selection of salads and vegetables. A cake was brought in for dessert. It was obvious that the buffet was put together on the fly, but the food was good and there was plenty for everybody. Sodas and coffee were complimentary but if wanted a beer we had to pay 3 reals (apx US$1). I found Cesar and his mom and aunt already at a table. Again they had saved me a place. We started talking and they said it was their first time in Brazil. I said it certainly was my first time too! Wouldn’t it be nice to see something as long as we’re stuck here? The ladies suggested renting a taxi and cruising around; would I like to come along? Sounds like a good idea to me!

In front of the hotel we find a suitable taxi and start negotiating with the driver. At first he didn’t understand what we were trying to do. “You want to go to downtown? Where downtown?” Finally he got the idea we wanted him to show us the sights of Porto Alegre. He said he had to use the meter, so we told him not to go over 30 reals.

Negotiations complete we pile into the taxi. I get in the passenger seat, Cesar and his mom and aunt take over the back seat. Our twenty-something driver doesn’t speak Spanish and we don’t speak Portuguese, but if we all talked slow and enunciated carefully we understood each other more or less.

Our driver started getting more and more into the tour guide role as we drove through Porto Alegre. I think he said it was the fourth largest city in Brazil and considered a desirable place to live. He showed us all over town, taking us to see the hippodrome, the soccer stadiums, and other notable sights. Cesar’s aunt had brought her camera, so the driver would periodically stop the car and we’d all pile out for a group picture in front of a monument or stadium. Of course it was dark out and the monument wouldn’t show up but nobody cared.

When the taximeter turned 20 reals, our driver asked if we wanted to head back to the hotel. We had only been out a half hour, so we said that he could turn off the meter and we’d pay him 50 reals if he wanted to keep showing us around for awhile. The driver thought this was a great idea and so the tour continued. I was getting thirsty, so the driver pulled into a mini-mart. Prices were cheap – two beers, three sodas, and a big bag of potato chips came to around US$2. I gave the driver one of the Fanta sodas which he appreciated.

After a couple of hours of driving around we decided we had enough and headed back to the Holiday Inn. Since I was the only one with Brazilian currency, I told Cesar and his family that the tour was my treat. I gave the driver 60 reals and told him to keep the change. He thanked me profusely, bid us a wonderful stay in his country, and that ended our grand Nighttime Tour of Porto Alegre, Brazil.

I went to bed, worrying about what kind of hassles I would face the next day trying to get out of Brazil since there was absolutely no record of my entry into Brazil. I fell asleep wondering what the word for "bribe" was in Portuguese...

Part 4 at: http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/Forum81/HTML/003146.html


[This message has been edited by El Cochinito (edited 10-13-2002).]