Don’t cry for me, Argentina, it was my own damn fault.

A couple of years ago, I spent two weeks in South America for work. Along with a colleague from the states, we traveled from Colombia to Brazil and finally Argentina. During the trip, we ate at least a half of a cow in red meat.

Traveling around the cities was easy. We had our hotels pickup us up at the airport and used Uber everywhere else. We could call up a car on our smart phones without a working knowledge of Spanish or Portuguese. We just needed the address of the destination.

Getting into the countries was another story. Brazil required a visa prior to travel for both of us but in Colombia and Argentina, as I Canadian, I needed a visa. My colleague just needed his United States passport to enter.

Maybe they had something against Maple Syrup.

But obtaining a Colombian visa was easy. I flew into Bogota airport, took a special line with a Canadian flag on the floor and paid a $100 reciprocity fee. I didn’t mind the cost as it allowed me to bypass the two hundred people waiting to talk to a border guard before they entered the country.

São Paulo was the next stop and my pre-approved Brazil Visa I received two months prior worked like a charm.

However I ran into a snag traveling from Brazil to Argentina. A few weeks prior…