Camping Stories

Our electrical system is at last properly installed with nothing rose needed. The batteries are balanced and all is well. Interestingly Adrián discovered our defective battery had been opened, the nuts holding the top plate were loose and he found he could look inside.

Apparently the distributor had found the broken connector on the top black wire and checked to see if it could be replaced easily. Instead they sold it to me, nice people at UY Storage. The famous Timo who runs the well known workshop isn’t getting any more of my business. Unfortunately the heater he sold us has developed a fault which Adrián couldn’t fix.

The fan blows but the igniter so edgy ignite so it doesn’t heat up  which is annoying. He’s packaging it up to send it to the distributor.

It turns out it’s a bit of a unicorn, no one drives a gasoline work vehicle or RV in South Smerica Ave this thing sat on the shelf till we showed up. UY Storage provided it to Adrián but as usual have no interest in helping to fix it, so Adrián is sending it to the importer. We shall see next week I hope, if it can be repaired. We are back to using our 110  volt space heater till then…which is better than nothing.

All of which is annoying but compared to our French neighbors it pales into insignificance. They called Adrián for help from the northernmost tip of Argentina near Iguazu Falls where their expedition truck broke down. Adrián and Maria José (above smiling as always) took a road trip to see what they could do. It was a saga apparently. 

Adrián organized a tow back to the Uruguay border which set them back $6,000…and they traveled for two days inside their truck with the front end up in the air. When we got towed with our broken transmission in Peru we at least spent eight hours on top of the flat bed. 

When they got to the border with Uruguay they had to drip the truck and negotiate with the Uruguayan customs  after Adrian called for a new tow truck to get them across the border and to his shop. Then the customs guy refused an entry permit to the broken French truck.  Adrián said he got mad and told the tow truck to drop the French expedition truck where it stood. The customs guy protested it would block the road. Not my problem Adrián said if you won’t let him in.  In the end they agreed and for another US$1500 the expedition truck got towed to Adrian’s shop. 

Apparently they had engine trouble in Brazil and the shop that replaced the head in the engine did a bodge repair of the engine block which held up for 500 miles and then blew up by the side of the road. Adrián said they were pretty desperate with no one to help and no one stopping for them at the side of the road.  Now they are preparing to go back to France and figure out how to import IVECO parts to rebuild their engine.

We offered the wife a ride to the supermarket which she gratefully accepted. We have been told the American habit of immediately introducing oneself is excessively aggressive so we do it the European way which is not to mention your own name on first acquaintance. I think it’s weird but I go along as there’s no point in freaking them out. I tried speaking French to her husband but he just grunted and withdrew as Rusty and I walked past his rig. Layne, who doesn’t speak French said he was much friendlier when he came to meet his side and pick up her groceries.  I was a bit oblivious. Then there is José the Spaniard. 

According to Adrián he has made his money and is hanging out managing his affairs back home on line. He gets bored and asks Adrián for jobs to do so he got set to work chopping wood.

Instead of living aboard his Mitsubishi camper he occupies the cottages used to live in and I don’t envy him. I prefer my own bed but he seems happy enough with his dog kept on leash as he tends to wander.  Oddly enough Rusty has taken a dislike to the youngster and growls menacingly when the dog comes close by.  Of course it takes my elderly buddy’s while to rise to his feet so there is no real threat but I keep an eye on him.

José’s dog, name unknown, was found in the road by some vacationers who later claimed they came by looking for his owners but nobody was home. José has a tracker on his wandering dog and traced him down to a house on the outskirts of Montevideo, the capital about two hours away. Apparently he showed up on their doorstep at eleven o’clock at  night and said: “Can I have my dog back please?”

That’s life at the workshop/campground/storage facility. Saturday afternoon we are supposed to have an asado -a grill out- after which GANNET2 will take off for a drive for a few days until the heater is decoked and ready for use or declared dead…I’m hoping we’ll be back to get it installed again.  Meanwhile we’ll enjoy Uruguay as best we can.