Zapp Family

In the year 2000 Candelaria  and Herman Zapp took a vintage car and set off around the world. 

Twenty two years later they came home with four children after visiting 102 countries. Two years ago they bought this plot of land outside Luján one hour from Buenos Aires and opened a campground for travelers, for people like us.

It rained like hell Wednesday night and Thursday dawned cold and gray and bleak and windy so I started a short walk with Rusty headed toward the communal room in the middle of the campground  where I found the owners doing things. They paused in their work and posed easily for my camera because they did that frequently I’m sure as they traveled. BBC Northern Ireland:

I was fascinated by the choice of vehicle, a 1928 Graham Paige…

…but my rather thoughtless question “Why” simply elicited the rote reply because it’s easy to fix. I had hoped for a family history, a sentimental attachment, something like that. I suppose an old car is a talking point on the road, a way to attract attention, to engage locals.  Unlike the anonymity of the Promaster which, though it is not sold here is identical from the outside to the widely sold Fiat Ducato upon which the Promaster is based. 

I suppose if your travel plans include meeting people, staying with them and that sort of thing an eccentric vehicle helps. 

A man of my mechanical ineptitude would not get very far I fear on wooden wheels. 

Later Herman took a break from digging a ditch and expanded on the story. He and Candelaria are childhood sweethearts and from when they got married they decided they wanted to make a trip. They settled on driving to Alaska as a goal. A friend told Herman, who knew nothing about cars, that he had an antique for sake and Herman, an incurable romantic, decided that was just the right car for the journey. 

They bought the car, packed and left. Thirty miles from home a wooden wheel started to fall apart and a mechanic pointed out he wasn’t a carpenter and couldn’t repair so he told them to go see a nearby blacksmith. 

The blacksmith showed him how to keep the wooden wheels running and Herman found the simple mechanical systems of the car appealed to him.

And now they are creating a campground and gathering place to attract travelers. 

Hernan is now planning a sailboat journey. Candekaria has no interest and will stay here while he goes north, buys a cheap boat with no knowledge of sailing and takes off. It is, he says, his dream. We never regret having sailed in our youth as we frequently see overland travelers driving while dreaming of sailing. We scratched that itch.

We’re leaving today and moving closer to Buenos Aires where I will stay while Layne flies to Brazil to go jaguar hunting with friends from Florida. 

Luckily they also published their book in English in an electronic edition as well.

Candelaria doing things in the common room. 

Zapparancho

This week we are at a campground about an hour outside Buenos Aires, famed among overlanders it’s one of those gathering points among vehicle travelers. However Team Lost is out of season so we are pretty much alone here.

Their slogan (in the top picture) describes this place as where your dreams begin. I’m not much one for sloganeering but whatever. It has the facilities that travelers need. Hot showers heated by the sun:

A swimming pool, not there yet but coming:

Rusty has got the two home dogs under control. This is his space for the week and they better not cross his boundary. Good boy.

The 220 volt electricity is good, the WiFi comes and goes so we use Starlink. Rules for Starlink for travelers are changing so each cycle we expect to be cut off but so far so good. 

Give us the gift of your sticker. 

In Peru Layne realized travelers don’t use cards anymore as they did when we sailed to Panama and Key West from California in 1998, so we have a sticker. It’s based on a photo we sent to a painter friend of ours in Marathon and she sent us the painting back: 

The campground has a cheerful hippy vibe underpinned by the good services they offer. 

There is a kitchen with a grill area to make Argentina’s famous asado, but we use it to wash our dishes.

One of this signpost forests in this case many are devoted to Spanish aphorisms (cliches) about not giving up, living your life and all that sentimental stuff. 

The property is vast and is often used for meetings, traveler tended vous and exhibitions and stiff. Out of season there’s an electric fence separating us from a few grazing horses. 

Weekends are busier but most benches seen here are in storage for the winter just past. 

A car full of mechanics came by as we lunched and spent the afternoon fixing up the wheelchair lift and servicing the motor for the owner. 

Then he drove over and parked in the bus storage area. Converting buses into RVs is popular in Argentina and Brazil.

The owners, former travelers are aware at the moment and we didn’t photograph them when they greeted us because we forgot. We plan to leave here Saturday as Layne flies to Brazil on Sunday to go look for wildlife in the jungle.

The Buggeration Factor

There are stories that stick in one’s head years after their authors and their circumstances are mostly forgotten. Denis Thatcher, the husband of Margaret Thatcher the British prime minister, was known for being outspoken and not mincing his words in all sorts of undiplomatic ways. His obituary records a particularly notable occasion. 

The Independent newspaper reported this version of the story:
When, in Goa the electricity failed as he was trying to shave himself in a chalet, Denis emerged into the open, soap-suds still adorning his face, and
surprised fellow Commonwealth leaders in adjoining chalets by bellowing out: "The buggeration factor is high and growing in this part of the
world..."

The more likely version I heard many years ago had him dressing for dinner and adjusting his bow tie when the lights went out. He proceeded to the balcony of his villa (in the Aguada Hermitage) and boomed out in his stentorian voice for all to hear, "This place is just too high on the buggeration factor." 

I mention the irritation of the late Mr Thatcher because the buggeration factor in our lives has been getting a bit too high lately. Let me list the causes: the coolant leak is back, we have yet to start on the new battery installation and Layne has to have a skin cancer removed which will be painful and consume more of our travel time. We are making arrangements to return to Paraguay for the coolant leak, we have yet to get to Uruguay for the battery replacement and the squamous cell on Layne’s arm will likely be removed in the British Hospital here in Buenos Aires. Coordinating that lot would drive me mad but Layne has it in hand she says.

On top of all that Layne flies to Saõ (pronounced San) Paulo on Sunday to meet friends from Florida who want to do a wild jaguar tour in Brazil’s southern jungle called the Pantanal. Rusty and I will have ten glorious days and nights alone together. Be still my beating heart.

In the long run it will all get sorted out but the next few weeks will test my patience as we were planning to go south after Layne got back from the Pantanal. Luckily we have time and can spend as long as it takes to complete the tasks. So far our pensions keep getting paid so money is not a worry. Besides sitting still is cheaper than driving and we have several well equipped campgrounds in the area that charge less than fifteen bucks a night.

Here are a few pictures of the last 200 miles to the city. The finger painted red marks roughly show the places mentioned above. 

Argentine road quality continued to live down to its reputation: 

Endless miles of construction abandoned in mid job.  

The idea that the Falklands should be Argentine keeps popping up. Not sure why they would want to join this clown car of an economy. 

It would be a stretch to suggest that eight years ago this week were a happy time but my motorcycle accident gave Rusty an excuse to sit on me. 

That memory I like.