Pity it was not a border post

8 May 2006
Machala
8) Ecuador
Day +-50 (loosing count)



Pity this building wasn´t at a border post with the officials standing underneath.

I don´t want to leave you with the impression that maybe I hate border officials, so let me tell you in no uncertain terms that I &%$"/&%$ hate them with all humanly possible emotions and today´s experience was yet another reason why.

I arrived late yesterday (after the 900km ride) at the border post and got on with the process of crossing into Ecuador. It was a struggle to find the customs and immigration posts amoungst the chaos but all the paper work eventually got completed and last was the Ecuador immigration where I diligantly presented my passport with all the necessary ´please oh great sir´gestures. He paged through the passport and then gave me a dirty look and in a loud stern voice said, `What are you doing here? You need a visa´. I appologised and said I had asked at the consulate and was told that it was not necessary. He proceeded to tell me I should know I needed a visa and must get out of the country before he locks me up. I felt it best not to tell him he was a &%$"& and smelt bad so I went back to undo all the customs and paperwork to get back into Peru.

This morning I was at the Ecuador emabssy, all bright and bushytailed asking for a visa to be told that it was not required. When the mixed emotions dissapated I explained the situation and was told `sit, wait´ (something Alan and I heard way too many times on the microlight trip). A mere four hours later I was given the name of the Immigration officer, Sorgent Torrenus, who they had spoken to and was expecting me.
Off I went and rode 110 km back to the border and entered the paper generating processor. Two hours later I was spewed out with all necessary documents and ready to undertake the immigration process once again. This time I walked in and loudly asked for ¨Sorgent Torrenus¨. One man lifted his head quickly making it obvious that it was him but he refused to acknowledge it was infact him. (spineless &%$"/). When I said the embassy had sent me to see him, he took my passport and stamped it and I was sent on my way, leaving a muff faced Sorgent behind.

After 200km and a long day of ´sit wait´I only got as far as next town Machala.

I don´t suppose I should write about this stuff but it makes me feel better.
Ricky
(Grumpy)