The end of Uruguay.
Inexperienced overlanders dread borders for one big reason I think, which is loss of control, but I have found that if you approach them as a bureaucratic hurdle, not as a police inquisition you can get through them without much stress. We exited Uruguay and entered Argentina in less than half an hour including them typing out our vehicle permit and photographing Rusty’s exit papers which we got six weeks ago and which allow him to cross Mercosur (southern common market) borders for two months. All checked in less than 30 minutes.
The two countries operate combined offices so Argentine immigration checks you out of Paraguay and into Argentina at one booth so you don’t even get out of your car. The customs officers after that photographed Rusty’s permit, checked the van interior mostly out of curiosity and then an English speaking agent walked me to the Uruguay customs office to check GANNET2 out.
Then the Argentine customs officer took our Florida registration (which I have laminated), my passport and me and typed up a Temporary Import Permit for GANNET2 and that was it. He stressed I must not overstay the permit and we won’t because that would get us banned from Argentina. Then we were free to go but I got talking to a guy who was curious about us and it turned out he was born in Cleveland of Argentine parents…surprise! Then at age 18 he was selected for the national rugby team so he returned to Argentina thirty years ago. He still has his US passport and pays US taxes every year as is required because US citizens get taxed wherever we live, not that he was excited about that, but he has kept his passport all these years! Then the customs officer hustled me out and we said goodbye. Then it was over the Uruguay River and into Argentina.
The trick to crossing borders is to have the right documents lots of patience and show up mid morning when the busy impatient people have crossed and the officials have had time to relax and settle into their day. They are just bureaucrats who need to see the right papers and not be lied to, and this lot didn’t ask about fruit so we didn’t tell them about our fruit but it was there in sight if they felt the need to confiscate it but they didn’t. So I celebrated by eating a banana after lunch.
And we drove straight through the old separate border post on the Argentine side.
Our first stop was to buy gas as in Uruguay regular is $8:50 a gallon and in Argentina it’s $5:50 a gallon and we’d let the tank run low.
Getting ready for some road works and road repair is not a common sight in Argentina where the president is cutting government spending.
Our goal was to drive across Argentina from the Uruguay River to the mighty Paraná River, the largest river in this part of the world. And Argentina has a city called just that too, Paraná about three hours away from the border.
We planned to get some driving done, our day on the road shown below:
Webb Chiles said he figured it was a day’s drive from Uruguay to Paraguay until he looked at a map and that doesn’t take into account the crappy roads…
We expect to take until Sunday to arrive at Asunción the capital of Paraguay. Our mechanic is 516 miles from where we parked last night:
In Florida we could drive 500 miles from Key West to Jacksonville in one long day on I 95 but here there is no freeway and Rusty is too old for 12 hour driving days so we have to cool our jets. 
The highway is badly paved with a cement slab base and a thin layer of melted asphalt on top so we bounced all day on the cement seams dodging pot holes and lumps. Not a fun drive.
Right we said as we left the border area, let’s get driving. 
And then disaster struck: Layne spotted an asado place:
Willy in the yellow shirt, the consummate salesman promised us grilled meat ready in ten minutes ended up waving us goodbye an hour later at 11:30… but this was Argentina where everyone talks laughs and asks questions. 
Uruguay has excellent roads and subdued reserved shy people, where Argentina has crap public services and a defiant exuberant population. And Willy welcomed us in with some cold cuts and a delicious garlicky bean salad to keep the wolf from the door.
And he has WiFi too. He was proud to host travelers from the States and he had me film a brief public service announcement for his Instagram channel -I know, go figure- so I did my best. 
Willy the entrepreneur is building an oven out back to offer homemade bread in the near future. $27 got us enough meat for two meals (and Rusty) and if you’ve never had it grilled Argentine grass fed beef really is the best in the world, slow grilled with salt and nothing else. 
With the meat and half a loaf of bread stowed aboard GANNET2 we climbed aboard intent on making miles dammit.
Highway 130 bounced us across the province of Entre Ríos (between the rivers) where if you drove all the way north you would bump into Brazil at Iguazu Falls the giant cataracts which we visited six months ago. 
At 1:30 we stopped to let Rusty rest and to have lunch with meat on the menu. Not a great rest area but it was good enough. It was about 80 degrees and summery on the road.
Up next the one and a half mile tunnel under the Paraná River.
By now we had entered Santa Fé (holy faith) province and we drove through the city of the same name, chaotic traffic as usual before we got back out onto the open road surrounded by cultivated fields while dodging truck traffic.
The Falkland Islands are never far from the road signs (above). You find yourself 2,000 miles from the islands…
Layne found a YPF gas station for us on iOverlander which would have us spending the night in a town I’d never heard of which is no surprise. San Justo? Where’s that? 
Only overlanders going to Brazil travel here and most don’t linger.
We were glad to be arriving. 
YPF is the biggest chain of gas stations in Argentina rather like Pemex in Mexico. 
For us it means a place to sleep with a mixture of services, possibly restaurants convenience stores or sometimes hot showers ( not this one unfortunately).
A series of badly timed traffic lights slowed us down but we got there and first thing we did was ask if we could spend the night. She smiled and said of course and filled us up. Had she said no we’d have driven on to get gas somewhere else to spend the night. Getting gas is conditional on us being allowed to stay overnight when filling up in the evening. We filled up with Super 95:
We settled into the truck parking area for the night. 
Kibbles and grilled meat for the little prince.
I parked conveniently close to the sparkling clean toilets.
Our neighbor was a Fiat truck which was new when I was a youth. These trucks were everywhere in Italy when I was a child on my summer vacations. I had a toy model of one I still remember playing with. Nowadays it looks worn out but Argentines keep old vehicles running perforce, had there a lot of Italian immigrants. It doesn’t look like much does it? 
Later we got the knock. American van lifers dread getting woken up in the night and told to move on after getting a knock to wake them up. These Argentine officers were curious about the van and my Florida drivers license and were very friendly. 
It was a quiet night with no traffic no dogs barking and no robbers. Just another peaceful night contesting South America.
And two recent comments I read here were pretty interesting. The Pope’s forthcoming visit to Paysandú has got some Argentines excited so when they mentioned it I was actually aware of it which I hadn’t been before I read the comment so thank you. And the story about the collapse of Ueno bank in Paraguay cave as a surprise as we use that bank to buy currency. Or did. Now the scandal has forced the President of Paraguay to resign I saw on the Guardian site this morning. Staying up to speed right here…
