It was another early start. I was up to catch a taxi at 4.30am and fifteen minutes later was at the airport and again trying to understand and make myself understood in Portuguese. Eventually I had my bag checked in, which I would collect at Santiago, and despite my protestations had the new ticket for my flight through to Mount Pleasant taken off me and replaced with a boarding pass to no further than Santiago.
Four hours later I was there. It was still nearly midday before I had sorted accommodation with the airline and discovered that my bag was not to be collected at Santiago but had been booked straight through to the Falklands - leaving me with nothing other than the clothes I stood in for the night. My very average airport hotel gave me a very average lunch of chicken and chips so, once in my room, I elected to not worry about dinner and to put my head down until morning.
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