Monday In Uruguay

 Rain was in the forecast so Adrián announced he would complete a couple of interior jobs in our van which kept us stationary till lunch time so we decided to postpone our visit to the mural city until Tuesday.

We use this  basket to carry stuff most often fruit, but Layne wasn’t ready for me to credit down so she used a mess of sticky tape. Until Adrián came to the rescue. “I could have done that,” masculine me protested as he screwed it to the wall…”Not as nearly with such small screws,” my wife replied heartlessly as she scored her much improved galley. I had managed to glue together a main shelf in our fridge (that I accidentally cracked years ago) but the would was looking terminal so I asked Adrián for help. “I have just the thing,” he said.

There it is looking as ugly as sun but welded permanently (I hope) into the fridge door. RV fridges for sake down here which we have looked at find offer the sane useful spaces as our old Frigidaire does which is why we had it converted to 12 volts and wanted to keep the unique wide shelf  in place. Plus the electricians are now finished and working so the bed platform got screwed down.

There is a very small bug persistent coolant leak in the engine which needs investigating and Adrián has some ideas about building a windshield drain to stop rain water overflowing into the engine in downpours. I figure we might as well use his problem solving  skills while we are here. Meanwhile he spent Monday struggling with Robert’s external battery boxes.

The supermarket in Colonia Valdense is only five minutes away and Layne has become a local greeted by the butcher and the ladies at the bakery as she wanders around. Shopping in Uruguay is as expensive as the US except liquor which is cheaper by far. It’s weird how every country has its quirks. In Brazil we couldn’t find decent yoghurt; they have that Uruguay but they have no decent coffee- it’s all instant. We have the best selection of cheeses in South America and Uruguay produces some pretty decent wine. Meat is superb though nothing is really inexpensive.  I have been missing biscuits for a while but lo and  behold we found a very palatable version right here.

When we get back to the States, probably in 2028 we figure, I went to cross the border at Naco in Arizona which is a ten minute drive from the Bisbee Breakfadt Club where they serve dinner plate sized biscuits as I remember them with some excellent sausage gravy.  I have been giving this some thought. Meanwhile in Uruguay at least I can get small biscuit sandwiches:

I spent the weekend being miserable in terrible but grateful Rusty was there to share it with me. I also noted the milestone of another D-Day which used to be less history and more a memory for the generation that preceded me.

I was astonished to read Secretary Hegseth took the occasion to make a political statement criticizing our allies who took exception. 

I grew up in a different world and find these momments of ceremonial international solidarity that meant a lot to the Greatest Generation have a very different meaning to those that come after me.  Like Rusty I think I am officially old. But I retain the right to remember the past my way.

We old farts nap together. 

Marking Time

We keep our fingers crossed in high hopes this might be our last week here. Rusty has a check up Thursday and we’re hoping he’ll be taken off his steroids so we can get him back on his glucosamine to strengthen his legs. He is almost back to his elderly normal self, getting up without help, eating like a horse, and showing all the signs of being once again a happy alert dog. The cloud of gloom has lifted. Yes I know he’s old and death awaits us all but for now I’m focused on testing our new electrical systems not on contemplating his mortality. We want to test both by taking a tour of Uruguay before we head west toward Peru, land of winter sun. Let’s see how Rusty and GANNET2 do on the road. 

Winter is here with a cold front closing in bringing  rain and damp de-motivating us by also lowering  temperatures that already feel colder than 55 degrees. We want to go for a drive to see some new places and check Rusty’s tolerance for travel and to give us a chance to feel nomadic again even if we need windshield wipers and a car heater to do it.  

Saturday afternoon we celebrated the end of the work week for those not retired with an asado, a grilled meat session. Me Layne Robert Adrián and Maria- José and Rusty the hungry prednisone powered eating machine with his head under the table.

Robert the retired American businessman has absorbed all Adriáns time last week chasing electrical demons in his Toyota Land Cruiser conversion, an overlanding beast assembled by apparently unmotivated builders. Adrián spends half his time trying to convince Robert who uses a translation app, to rebuild from the ground up the wiring mess in the camper. Robert supervises and resists all suggestions until he sees for himself how hopeless it is trying to do things his way. Progress on making improvements is glacial, especially after a short burned out his alternator and a mechanic came by and replaced a burned diode.

I am not a self made man so when I find a technician who knows his stuff I tell him what I want and let him figure how to achieve it. Then I give him money and I enjoy the outcome. I never assume I know more than they do. In Brasilia my approach was not entirely successful but our solar panels and Starlink installation work and our cabinetry is good and Adrián has created what appears to be a fine electrical installation so in the end we are there. Robert is getting there but his approach is generating frustration and I don’t like to see it.  Another reason to get on the road and leave them to debate technical minutiae  that bore me.  

This next week looks to be taken up with an electrical rebuild Adrián suggested at the start that Robert resisted and has been forced to accept as necessary because the half modification of  his system isn’t working as hoped.  Or something. 

I watch the fog rise over the fields, Rusty plunks down next to me, Layne fights the oven in the cottage and Robert and Adrián discuss wiring through Google Translate. 

I carry endless arms full of firewood and dream of the open road.

Cheesy Day

Call it rehabilitation or call it a love of cheese but we took a drive yesterday, it was only a mile but Rusty the stroke victim was part of the crew.

Because I overthink everything I had been worrying about us dragging Rusty into his old age in a van but Layne made a point yesterday as we talked about our travel prospects.

She pointed out that if Rusty really was fed up with traveling he had the perfect excuse to check out last week. As he lay hovering between life and death he could easily have chosen to end it  but he didn’t  so perhaps he really does like this life. Yesterday he gave every indication that was the case. He couldn’t sit still.

We went to this cheese farm up the street and on a hazy winters day we were the sole customers which I dare say would never happen in summer. It was a delightful spot and Rusty couldn’t get enough of it.  

Layne tasted and bought cheese and I herded my rather sprightly dog.

He wanted to check the place out.  

So we did and he didn’t fall down once even though he remains a little wobbly. 

You can rent rooms here. 

And there is Art everywhere.

The Milky Vine, a cheesy play on words as in Spanish it closely resembles the phrase for The Milky Way.  

We started talking about travel plans after Layne bought the cheese and we were sitting outside in the pale winter sun.  

We can’t treat Rusty like he’s made of porcelain though we will have to take shorter legs and give him plenty of time to rest but when the vet says it’s okay we will get on the road to the west coast to spend winter in the warmer drier region of Arequipa in southern Peru. 

I can hardly believe how well he has recovered and though a relapse is always at the back of my mind Rusty doesn’t seem ready to fade away just yet.  

And this whole episode has reminded us of our own mortality. Layne brought up the question of where shall we land when it’s time to quit full time travel even though neither of us is ready to sit still. 

It’s a question without an answer, I prefer Key West where we still have connections  but Layne likes Santa Cruz in California near where she grew up and has other friends. It’s a debate for the future but Rusty having a strike has once again taught us a lesson; the dog as teacher has been his rôle in my life.

I haven’t even tasted the cheese yet but I rate yesterday as a very good day. 

The happy explorer dog; long may he last.

All Rusty

Rusty continues to improve little by little, though his appetite seems to have doubled since he had his stroke; he is always full of surprises, this dog of nine lives. He looks normal when he sits but his gait is wobbly as he wanders around the workshop’s garden.

This morning he stumped around a bit but never actually fell over so that is a first.  We measure improvements in his condition in tiny increments. They are so far, all encouraging. As you might imagine I’m watching him like a hawk and monitoring his progress like a banker eyeing the repayments on a dubious loan.

To have this time with him feels like a gift such that I find myself more than usually obsessed with his well being.  He returns the compliment by following me around like my guardian rather than the other way around.

He knows as well as I do our time together is limited and we neither of us is ready to waste a minute. For me it is tinged with sadness as I feel the weight of a lovely, slow, goodbye.  It has been a glorious decade of great fun but it feels like the curtain is making a slow descent.

No regrets. My glorious boy. 

Rusty Is Alive

It was touch and go but he is eating and functioning if not back to his old self.  He walks with a wobble and occasionally sits down abruptly when he loses his balance. His blood test results came back in the normal range and the vet says he is on the path to recovery.  

He is alert and after he was checked out he led me on a walk up the street like he always has sniffing and checking stuff out. I really thought it was curtains for him for a few days but he has recovered sufficiently we hope to resume our travels with him in a few weeks.

There is no getting away from the fact that he is old and he could relapse at any time or have another stroke but he is alive and I love having him around and watching him devour a chicken breast like he hadn’t eaten for three days (because he hadn’t).

We plan to wait a couple of weeks and see how he’s doing.  If he is able to travel we’ll take off, if not we’ll pause longer. We aren’t going to stop being nomads but we are going to take care of our most vulnerable family member. No one gets left behind.

Colonia Valdense, Uruguay.