Made it to Chile

Thirty hours after I left my house to catch a bus to Newark International, I greeted my grandma with waterlogged shoes, a stiff neck, and the indefatigable spirit of a rugged American.

I armed myself with two carry-on items well above both size and weight regulations, a neck pillow, and the piece de resistance of my dorky passenger’s arsenal — a neck-slung passport holder. I’d never been more ready to travel.

Newark to Miami went without a hitch. I didn’t even get up to pee. I deplaned with ninety minutes to go before USA was set to kick off its first World Cup sendoff match against Azerbaijan. In this time, I managed to walk nearly the entire horseshoe that is Miami International Airport, pass security, and eat fish and chips at Terminal J’s renowned Corona Beach House where every menu item comes with a serving of mango lime mayo.

The hotties in ths pic were not at the bar when I was; only the girls were there.

The game kinda sucked. Flashcut to Aeropuerto Internacional Jorge Chavez in Lima, Peru. Only peed once on the flight. Killing it.

A couple more hours on the ground in Peru meant a couple episodes of The Americans. The show is about Russian spies fucking over America — an ironic choice considering I have packed five USA soccer jerseys. I’m holding out hope that they will switch sides. (I’m still in season one. If you spoil anything, you’ll be comparing the KGB’s torture methods to the Charlie Bit My Finger video when I’m done with you.)

Blink and we’re in Aeropuerto Internacional Comodoro Arturo Merino Benítez in Santiago, Chile (pretend you’re the worst blinker in the world). I will not disclose my bathroom stats for the previous flight. I posted up at Tamarugo for my first dose of wifi, as well as a delicious churrasco sandwich. The ‘Chilean style churrasco sandwich is thinly sliced steak with avocado, tomato, and the GOAT of the condiment world — mayonnaise.

An internet photograph of a churrasco sandwich. Mine was eaten too quickly to be photographed. But still, scope that mayo.

A bunny hop of a flight later, I landed in Concepcion to a vicious downpour. I found my aunt and we forded the river that was the horrendously leveled parking lot. For the end of this story, please reread the first sentence of this post.