Cold Sunshine

Cold Atlantic breezes blowing up the coast with lots of sunshine yesterday such that the solar panels got us from 65% to 81% of our 540 amp batteries by one pm.

Rusty  slept until 11am recovering from several days of travel which was not really very arduous so I worry a little about hauling him around so much. He eats well and sleeps well and is very alert guarding his home but travel wears him down.

After he woke up we went for a short walk.

Then he laid himself down in the shade at the back of the van and caught up on his sleep deficit.

Our drive on Tuesday was pretty easy really. The morning started out foggy which surprised me. 

I figured it would burn off but it took a while to see down the road. 

Rusty looked at me a bit grumpily when I insisted he board the magic bus though he knew as well as I did the rest period was over. I stopped for gas in the town of Three and Thirty just twenty minutes down the road. 

I had noted Google Maps said the city park and municipal campground were temporarily closed. Further to that I did a Google search and found the city has closed the park in July after heavy rains had washed out tree roots causing them to fall over. I figured the place was probably reopened but the uncertainty was what had led me to stop on the highway right before town to spend the night. 

The attendant looked surprised when I asked if the park was open so I updated Google Maps and took my neurotic passenger to roll in the grass while I did an exercise tape. Rusty refuses to lie down when we drive and he wears himself out sitting up like this, especially when Layne isn’t there to support him:

The park in Treinta Y Tres was huge and quite green. 

There were no trash cans so it was not as clean as I have come to expect Uruguay to be  in its public spaces.

Rusty on patrol: 

The city’s name comes a revolutionary movement to liberate the country, a story involving 33 patriots. 

And now you know who Artigas was, he whose name pops up all over the country. The liberator who didn’t quite succeed and ended  up in exile in Paraguay but the 33 finished what he started. 

The town beach on a day far too cold for swimming. 

The road south to the town of Rocha.  

I got pulled over at a checkpoint and for a change I actually went through a van search. The boss, the tall cop, came aboard very politely and poked through the drawers looking for god knows what, probably just satisfying his curiosity. The younger cop chatted with me while that went on.

We talked about learning languages and he told me he was born in Brazil so he speaks Portuguese but is struggling to learn English. When I asked for a photo they insisted I be included. It was all very friendly.

Tomorrow I’ll pick up the drive from José Varela to Rocha. There’s no hurry as there’s nothing to write about here at the beach, bright sunshine, cold winds, maybe rain in a day or two, who knows, wild camping in Uruguay. I rather like it.