Leaving Paraguay

 We left the Pequeña Baviera (Little Bavaria) campground around 11am Friday.

It was hugely ironic we felt as just here when we came to spend our last night in Paraguay after having GANNET2 checked in Chris The Bavarian Mechanic’s workshop we met some fellow travelers whose company we greatly enjoyed.

The suspicion at this point is GANNET2 may have a slightly leaky head gasket which may allow small amounts of coolant to leak and be burned up. The old coolant seems to have a dark color and what we think is an oily burnt smell but the engine runs fine so pausing for several weeks to unsettle a complex operation on the V6 engine seems unnecessary. As a precaution I added liquid gasket sealant to the coolant, a thirty dollar Hail Mary and we shall see if the mysterious leak persists. The rest of the coolant system appears leak free.

I had taken the time in the town of Caacupé to get a ten dollar wash for our overworked Promaster as intake pleasure from seeing my home shine and it had been a while. We’d filled our 30 gallon tank with water at the  campground and emptied our toilet and trash can. There was no excuse to stay but the goodbye conversations stretched out. Trekking through Asunción:

We got on the road, we had to as it was baking hot, near 100 degrees and we are both keen to make tracks toward the cool air of Chile’s pacific coast 1200 miles away. I’ll save their travel stories for another day as they are people whose company we enjoyed and promises to meet in Patagonia later after they got their van repaired. We skirted ugly difficult Asunción the capital to cross the Paraná River west of the city. 

Rusty had not wanted to leave the apartment and then he found joy in the campground and now he was stuck relying on air conditioning to stay cool. 

Traffic was heavy Friday lunchtime and the traffic lights were excruciatingly slow to go green in the chaos. I loathe driving in Asunción, an ugly city with terrible street paving and no decent bypasses to get around the city center.

The border with Argentina is in a village called Jose Falcon and looks suitably decrepit. We arrived at the end of a long line of trucks which was the first sign of a border ahead. Trucks get their own route and it is a slow process for them to get their paperwork done.

We were in and out in half an  hour at most. The last mile of Paraguay was rather run down. 

It’s why we try not to linger in border areas.  

Put out more flags: 

It was not our first time here so I knew to stop at the first buildings, the ones that actually serve vehicles entering Paraguay. Because we are not local to either country we get Temporary Import Permit for GANNET2 and it’s vital to turn it in otherwise we look like we overstayed. First the bridge.

Then  I got out and walked to the customs office on the entry side of the building in the appalling heat.

The Paraguayan customs guy remembered me from the week before when he checked us in and we exchanged pleasantries. It’s past time to break new ground. Then immigration. 

Argentine immigration checks you out of Uruguay and into Argentina.  Easy peasy. Then Argentine customs which is usually where agriculture asks for Rusty’s papers but today they didn’t. I Shasta like to be prepared but sometimes you get lucky. Last time it was the first thing they asked for but just for a new wrinkle this time they asked to see our car insurance. They hardly ever ask for that but sometimes….you just never know. The office dogs were taking it easy. 

Then we were done and the first thing we do is drive out before anyone changes their mind about anything. 

It was as you can see 2:36 pm  and 107 degrees. Check out the mirage on the highway: 

And do we start our drive across about 600 miles of wilderness called the Chaco. It’s boggy pastureland with palms and thorn bushes and resembles nothing quite so much as the Everglades. There are lots of police checkpoints here and a few stopped us mostly just to chat. One officer asked to check the interior and Layne showed her around suspecting the reason for the inspection was a chance to be in air conditioning was too good to miss.

The road ahead will be flat and probably not too interesting and hot but we have to cross the Chaco to get to the Andes and cooler temperatures. 

Phone service is sketchy and villages are small and scattered. Argentina is vast. As you will see as we go south to Patagonia. 

The popes visit has caused a stir. “The economy must be in service to people, not people in service to the economy. Leo 14th. Go forth and spread the good news.” 

More checkpoints often with cops hiding indoors out of the heat.  

I’m glad not to be riding. 

Balancing Life

It turns out the work Chris did on the cooling system is solid, no leaks, all dry on GANNET2. Jolly good. What’s bad is the possibility of a deeper problem which may account for occasional fluid disappearing. 

Chris thinks it may be a head gasket problem but there are no signs of that yet, no white smoke from the exhaust, no water in the engine oil, no check engine light, no difficulty starting. We have a spare gasket but to replace it is a huge job requiring removal of the engine apparently  so we aren’t doing that. He out in a new expansion tank as the old one looked tired with a small seep at one of the hoses and that is that. For now we will wait and see. 

I would have preferred a cleaner answer but we will act if symptoms become worse or more obvious. A tiny burp of coolant vanishing doesn’t merit more sitting around waiting. 

Rusty will tell you sitting around waiting may not necessarily be a bad thing. There have been other stressors and I am tired and worried. Layne’s visit to California may have to be repeated as the husband of the couple she stayed with died on Monday, he was in the care of a visiting hospice nurse so it wasn’t a surprise but his widow ended up in the hospital anxious to see Layne  and she wants to answer the call from a friend of 40 years.

When I wandered the world in my youth none of these issues came up. Nowadays it’s not necessarily our age that is the impediment but the misfortunes of those that age alongside us. Making room for their needs wasn’t part of the calculation of our travels but here we are, far from ailing friends.

We are trying to plan for Layne to return to California in a few weeks, to give us time to reach the pacific coast so she can see her favorite dermatologist to check her own aging skin issues and then go back to comfort the widow. 

An ice cold Munich draft beer may not be the absent to all the messages flying back and forth but it doesn’t hurt. We had dinner with Mark an English resident of Caacupé who is planning a road trip to Rio de Janeiro in his van.

Layne and he were thick as thieves discussing the possibility of a woman entering his life, the ultimate motivator for a road trip. Life and its simpler impulses goes on for a change.

Hamburgers and a few laughs. 

Life on Paraguay is stressing people out but not in a hugely visible way as the banking scandal grinds on. Layne went to charge a few hundred bucks at the bank and there were massive lines at the counters so she went to the ATM instead. That’s the biggest thing we’ve see after the implosion of Ueno bank and the arrest of the president for complicity in fraud. Otherwise day to day life just trundles on.

Layne copes much better than I do with these demands on her. She has heroically washed load after load of rugs towels seat covers clothes and all our impedimenta in the washer in our apartment. I stress about where I want to be when she goes back for a month and I stress if I am making the correct decision to press on with a potential engine problem but she stays serene.

Life was much simpler when we were younger  or perhaps the passage of time makes it looks that way. 

Caacupé

Proponents of travel trailers and truck campers will tell you that vans are a pain because when they go into a shop so goes your home. True enough but when Layne looks for a place to stay she does occasionally score big. Behold our forty dollar a night accommodations in Caacupé Paraguay:

What you can’t see is fast WiFi, a comfortable bed with soft plush sheets, and off street parking that could accommodate GANNET2 if our van were staying longer than one night. As it is street parking seems fine. 

It was a short 90 minute drive through the badly pot holed streets of ugly Asunción, the capital of the country to get to Caacupé and our apartment is just  15 minutes from Chris’ workshop where our water pump will be replaced. 

It was easy to offload our lives from our home up a step into our apartment, the only one occupied at the moment in this small complex. We have the run of the place and could have parked GANNET2 up here in back under some low overhead wires and up a steep but manageable ramp, but it seemed more trouble than it was worth as this is a quiet neighborhood in a laid back town. 

Layne immediately started stuffing our rugs into the washer and they are long overdue so that felt like a huge success. 

Nightstands with lamps. Oh joy! So rare to have those and so pleasant. Fans keep the rooms chilly but there is a/c over the bed for really hot summer nights. 

And across the street there is an eatery, closed on Monday unfortunately but we took advantage Sunday night. 

Caipirinha (a sugarcane mojito basically, originating in Brazil) for appetizer and shawarma wraps for main. 

Rusty enjoying his apartment couldn’t be bothered to get up so we took dinner home to keep him company. 

It’s not all bad having to get a room when your home is in the shop. We could live in the van while it’s being worked on but Rusty is the problem as Chris’ territorial dogs patrol the workshop area and they would not like Rusty one bit. So dammit we are forced to live comfortably in town. Sigh.

To all external appearances life in Paraguay seems untouched by the banking scandal. Changing money today may be interesting but most likely it will be the usual routine. Show up with three hundred bucks and leave the bank with 1.8 million Guaraní (“waah-rah-knee”). 

Just another day in funky Paraguay.

Disasters Come In Threes

 I woke up around three in the morning wedged against Rusty snoring down my leg. It was a good moment to write my post for Saturday thought I…and then I discovered I hadn’t downloaded pictures from my camera the night before I was that tired. Bugger.

Eventually Layne woke up and needed to pee which broke up the symphony of snoring in b very flat between her and Rusty. I took advantage of the discombobulation and  I got up to go sit at my desk. In some manner that I cannot quite figure I managed to catch the shoe lace I use for a camera strap on my clothing and as I twisted in my seat  I flipped the camera to the floor. Brilliant.

It landed on Rusty’s bed, thus a soft landing no harm done right? Not a chance. The battery and SD card door fell apart probably because the door was open when the camera fell and struck first. 

I was mad, at myself principally, but I downloaded the pictures anyway and wrote the blog. By six am I was exhausted and ready to go back to bed  but the symphony was in full throated song again. Rusty had his back to Layne and his legs stretched straight out taking up all the bed. Oh hell I thought and laid down on the floor.

“I need to pee” Layne announced plaintively waking me up from my sacrificial spot on the floor and she urged me to my feet so she could open the toilet door. I saw my chance and got up on the bed manhandling some room around Rusty. Oh sleep, tired nature’s sweet restorer per the bard.

When Layne awoke me at 9:45 with a cup of hot tea I remembered my broken camera. I sat at my desk, sipped tea and struggled to figure it out, and get this: I fixed it. I found the spring and got the metal blade under it and clicked everything in place and presto! Camera fixed. Stunning.

So we got on the road planning to reach Paraguay before evening. We did it too but not before plenty more drama.

As we drove up Highway 11 through the wilderness called the Chaco the miles rolled by relatively smoothly and we made good time. 

The Chaco reminds me of the Everglades, thatch palms, boggy soil, highway on a levee. 

Rain this year has been heavy. 

And there has been flooding similar to the epic flooding in South Florida and the Keys. 

An SOS tower that looks too rusty to be relied upon but fortunately we didn’t have to try. This is really quite underpopulated country. 

So I decided it was time to pull over and let Rusty walk a bit and relax. As I u- turned into a pull out across the highway a slide-out drawer we had failed to secure popped open and launched our Corelle dinnerware onto the floor with a god almighty crash. Luckily only one plate broke and we have two left; a disaster with modest consequences. I let Rusty out and got to work cleaning up. 

In the time it took to sweep up he disappeared. Vanished. Evaporated. Gone. Well that was disaster number three. I thrashed around in the thick grass and trash looking for him. I soaked my feet in the creek worried he might be stuck in mud. I thrashed around with my walking stick.  No dog. 

After a long while I gave Layne a stool and an umbrella just in case and I set off for a village 15 minutes away. I tried to round up a beater party of men with machetes to look for Rusty and I found a guy who thought he might help.

He told me to go to a mechanic’s shop around the corner where the mechanic would meet me to round up a posse. I drove there but it was closed.

I met a couple of kids on bicycles who were fascinated by a foreigner in this tiny village. Is the US beautiful? Yes I said. They are doing okay in school but god knows what their prospects are in the back of beyond.

I got on the phone with Layne pondering our options when with a squeal she announced the little bastard’s sudden reappearance. He was fine and it was only I suspect the crash of the falling plates that freaked him out and he had needed some alone time to recover. He’s like that. 

He was all recovered in point of fact. We weren’t. 

We had a border to cross and darkness would be falling in a couple of hours. We got driving.  

The commute home: 

We arrived at the border at Clorinda after dark but they are open 24 hours fortunately. 

I knew the procedure now and we stopped at Argentine customs to drop off GANNET2’s temporary import permit then we drove on to the drive through immigration booth where the Paraguayan officer would check us out of Argentina and into Paraguay. 

After that we drove to Paraguay customs to get a new TIP for GANNET2 in Paraguay. He had to write it out by hand and press hard to get it in triplicate.

The television was showing the arrest of the former president accused of corruption in the collapse of a major bank in the country. The customs guy wasn’t worried. “We’ll get another president and he’ll be just as bad.” And off we went. 

Our goal was a gas station 15 minutes away where we had stayed on our way south. It was still there and good for a night’s rest.

What a hell of a day. Thank God that’s over. Good night.