Avoiding Argentine ATMs Advisable - Still

In 1902, when Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid went to Argentina, they presumably tried to go straight but, in the end, the temptation to rob banks was too great. The banks were where the money was and, despite their apparent wish to retire in northern Patagonia, they returned to robbery before meeting their eventual end in Bolivia.

Today, in Argentina, the banks are still “where the money is,” but now they’re trying to rob foreign visitors. Like many foreign travelers and Argentine tourism operators, I welcomed the end of the cepo cambiario, which forced visitors into a surreptitious foreign exchange market instead of exchange houses and ATMs. Playing by the rules made Argentina expensive.

At the moment, foreign visitors can get a more realistic exchange rate with their ATM cards, but that doesn’t necessarily mean the end of carrying cash. That’s because ATM transactions come with a penalty, as I learned when I attempted, failed at first, and finally succeeded in withdrawing pesos on New Year’s Eve in El Calafate (as soon as I did so, I headed to El Chaltén, a pleasanter place whose ATMs are often down because of poor Internet service).

Initially, I went to an ATM belonging to Banco de Tierra del Fuego (pictured above) and, after introducing my card, I chose the option to withdraw 2000 pesos (roughly US$154 at the new official rate). The machine, though, informed me that I had already exceeded my withdrawal limit for the day (even though I had not withdrawn money since December 25th, in Puerto Natales, Chile). I then tried for 1000 pesos and, after getting the same message, I went elsewhere.

Down the block at Banco Santa Cruz, the machine worked (though the lines were longer), but there was a glitch. It would not let me withdraw more than 1000 pesos and, if I wanted to do so, I would incur a charge of 79.80 pesos – eight percent, nearly US$6, on a withdrawal of roughly US$70. In Chile, by contrast, I was able to withdraw 200,000 pesos (nearly US$300) with a charge of 4000 pesos – two percent, about US$5.50. I’d rather not pay that either, but it’s reasonable (I might add that BancoEstado, whose ATMs I use in Chile, charged foreign customers nothing at all until very recently).

What this suggests is that, for the time being at least, carrying US cash makes more sense than using Argentine ATMs – whose banks want your money “by any means necessary.” As the photo above indicates, many businesses are willing to accept US dollars and other currencies in payment, and will not skim eight percent off the top. It also makes sense to use foreign credit cards, whose international charges are less usurious than Argentine banks.

What would Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, Bonnie and Clyde, and Willie Sutton do?

Border Bother? The Last Time for a While, at Least

Once again, yesterday, I crossed the border from Chile into Argentina and, again, there were no glitches as I passed through Chilean immigration and customs at the Dorotea border post, a short distance from Puerto Natales. The Chilean side was brightly lighted, orderly and efficient, with short lines and quick service – certainly none of the hassle that I experienced in crossing over to Mendoza last month.

On the Argentine side, things were not quite so efficient, to say the least. The Argentine border post (pictured below) is larger but dingy and, though there were two immigration officials at a tiny window, the line – such as it was – never seemed to move. When I finally reached the front, I reminded the young woman there that the receipt for my so-called “reciprocity fee” was in my previous passport, which I also provided her, but that appears to continue to confuse Argentine immigration everywhere except for the international airport at Ezeiza, where I originally paid it.

Perhaps that’s because it’s no longer possible to pay on the spot as I did in March of 2010, eight months before that passport expired. The fee is valid for ten years from the time of payment, but at present it’s only possible to pay online, and arriving Australian, Canadian and US visitors must show a printout of their payment.

I might guess that this young woman is a newer employee who might never have seen a receipt like mine (pictured above), but that didn’t explain the half-hour or more that it took for her to examine every page in my passports – including two trips for apparent back-room consultations and a request to wait alongside the window while she attended another customer – but I eventually got the stamp that admitted me to Argentina. This should be the last time until I fly from California to Buenos Aires in mid-April.

After that, and refilling the tank at the coal town of Río Turbio - where gasoline is cheaper than in southernmost Chile - I made my way to El Calafate, where the weather has turned summery. Meanwhile, I’ve written an op-ed on why Argentina’s government should eliminate the “reciprocity fee” – urgently and unilaterally – that’s due to published in the Buenos Aires Herald. Whenever that happens, I’ll post links here, and on my Facebook and Twitter accounts.

Green Chri$tma$ in Chile

Across from Puerto Natales, on Seno Última Esperanza (“Last Hope Sound”), some of the mountainsides are still showing snow in early summer, but it’s been raining most of the day and the grass here is green – reminding me, on the most tedious day of the year, of Stan Freberg’s classic comedy spot "Green Chri$tma$." Recently everyone’s been talking about money in Argentina – most notably the end of the “currency clamp” – so let’s talk about Chile instead.

When I arrived in Natales late last February, the Chilean peso was at 618 per US dollar; a year earlier it had been at 558 per dollar. Today, though, with demand for Chilean copper slowing, the dollar is now worth nearly 700 pesos and prices are falling accordingly. 

One obvious item is that, in a country with some of the continent’s most expensive gasoline – in past years, I’ve paid well over US$6 per gallon (US$1.58 per liter) in some locations – it’s now as low as US$3.70 per gallon (US$0.98 per liter). Contrast the photo above, from Puerto Puyuhuapi in February of 2014, with the one below, taken a few days ago in Punta Arenas.

With low inflation, and no need to change surreptitiously as has been the case in Argentina, Chile is definitely more affordable at present. One thing has changed for the worse, though. In the past, I’ve always recommended using the ATMs at BancoEstado, the state-run bank that had not imposed a charge on foreign currency transactions. When I arrived in Santiago last month, though, I was surprised to learn that their ATMs would now collect a 4000-peso (US$5.72 at present) fee for each withdrawal. That’s still lower than other Chilean banks, which charge up to 6000 pesos (US$8.58) per withdrawal.

In cases like this, it pays to withdraw relatively large amounts, so today I withdrew 200,000 pesos (US$285.95) at a branch here – that’s generally the largest allowed per transaction. Withdrawing smaller amounts with greater frequency is, obviously, far more costly.

That said, I did note what I hope may be a pleasant surprise. Chilean ATMs ask your approval before collecting the fee, giving you the option to cancel the transaction. Today’s did not, though, so perhaps they never reprogrammed the machines here and I got off cheap. I can only hope.

Patagonia on the Rocks

For visitors to Patagonia, whisky (whiskey, if you prefer) is probably not the first thing that comes to mind, but in southernmost Chile it’s become something of a tradition on excursions and cruises. I’m not much of a whisky drinker – my entire lifetime consumption probably amounts to less than a fifth – but I always look forward to it here.

Recently, it’s happened twice. Just a few days ago I took a two-night, one-day whale-watching trip to the western Strait of Magellan on the M/V Forrest (pictured above), which formerly hauled wool and supplies around the Falkland Islands before being reconditioned as a compact cruise vessel – bunks rather than beds - in Chile. Part of the itinerary involved a Zodiac landing on Isla Santa Inés, where we could take a short hike to the base of a glacier and, on the way back, the guides fetched a floating block of ice that, with the help of a small ice ax, became whisky on the rocks when we returned to the ship.

Almost as soon as I got back to the port of Punta Arenas, I boarded the Vía Australis for a three-day cruise through the fjords of western Tierra del Fuego, where slow-flowing rivers of ice such as the Brookes Glacier are a major attraction. Cruceros Australis also offers whisky on the rocks but, in a twist, they also offer hot chocolate with a shot (pictured below) - the rough equivalent of Irish coffee.

Southernmost Patagonia is not the only option for whisky drinkers. I’ve also enjoyed it in northern Chilean Patagonia’s Aisén region, on the Catamaranes del Sur day trip to the tidewater glacier at Laguna San Rafael, and on the M/N Quetru that visits the O’Higgins glacier from the town of Villa O’Higgins. The practice isn’t quite so common on the Argentine side, but I’ve had it on the trek to the Viedma Glacier (pictured below) near the town of El Chaltén.

A word on language, when the topic of glacial ice comes up: Many native Spanish-speaking guides use the false cognate “millenary” to describe ancient glacial ice. In reality, this has nothing to do with women’s headwear (millenery), but rather derives from the Spanish milenario, meaning a thousand years old. This is an understandable mistake, but one that always sounds awkward to me.