Ilo

You know how you think you’ve learned your lesson but once put to the test you know you haven’t? The government agriculture office, Senasa, in Ilo has a reputation for being helpful, and he was, because he gave us Rusty’s export certificate yesterday without having us come back the next day. Normally Senasa makes you wait twenty four hours for pick up of the paperwork. 

We arrived at 2pm with Rusty’s health certificate from the vet in Arequipa and we had to go back into town to the bank to pay $25 into Senasa’s account. Then the boss told me his assistant had to go to the hospital so it would take an hour to prepare our papers and to come back at 4:15 just before he closed at 4:30. 

Ilo is an industrial city, a port serving the desert mines underneath the foggy Pacific marine inversion cloud cover, so it wasn’t a bright sparkly tourist town but that wasn’t we were there. First I walked Rusty then we organized our safe and sorted our documents for the Chilean border before I went back to face the agriculture guy. 

He was a bit grumbly when I went back not least because I hadn’t used his favorite vet up the street who does the certificate exactly as he likes it. But he kept pecking away, checking my details and grinding toward the finish line. Then the internet slowed and he grumbled some more. 

Silly us, we had planned to leave at 4:30 because that’s when he said it would be ready. By the time it was finally ready it was dusk so to avoid driving in the dark we had to reorganize our plans to find a nearby parking spot. We picked a beach ten miles south of town just off the coast road. It hadn’t been visited in two years and when we arrived we found a big sign announcing “Private Property.” It looked like a development may be coming one fine day, maybe. We probably could have driven onto the beach but we’re foreigners and passing a private property sign isn’t the way we travel. So we turned around and parked for the night a couple of hundred yards off the coast highway. Good enough. 

Herewith some photos of the drive from Arequipa to Ilo, mountain desert driving and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Layne made me tea and lunch was an empanada on the go.

¡Exito! Success!

Tuesday was a struggle but things went well, at least for now. The authorities have accepted my photo for my Brazil visa so I hope to get that emailed to me within a week. 

That means I won’t need to go through that hassle for another ten years, I hope. 

It took all day but GANNET2 is now E85 capable which means we can buy fuel in Brazil. Tonight I am dirty tired and hungry as I forgot to eat all day but layne made pasta so we are getting back on an even keel. 

Freddy the electrician in the middle being watched by Chato on the left and Renzo on the right. Installing an ethanol sensor and extra fuel injector sensors. 

I hope it holds together but so far so good.

Thursday we hope to be driving to Chile as we have one more job to do while it’s still raining on the Amazon basin. 

And if you were wondering the miners’ strike is over, traffic is flowing normally and it’s now like nothing ever happened. The short version is the government gave in and started talks promising to legalize the “informal mines” in the country. Peru the surprising. We now have bans as, and strawberries and delicious plump figs. 

Chore Day

I took Sunday off reading and hanging out with Rusty but Monday morning we were out of bed at 6:10 on a 55 degree morning and got busy preparing GANNET2 for the road. It was only a twenty minute trip but I enjoyed driving especially as the commute hadn’t started. 

We parked outside Renzo’s shop and after I walked Rusty, and he loves this neighborhood, we sat and watched traffic taking illegal u-turns until a motorcycle cop showed up and spoiled the fun. 

And with that traffic flowed smoothly without back ups. Then Renzo arrived and we drove in. 

The hope is he can install a flex fuel system to allow us to burn ethanol up to 85% similar to the flex fuel you find in the corn states in the US. This is required for gasoline engines in Brazil as they have a national minimum ethanol of 27 percent in gasoline up to pure ethanol. Brazil grows sugar cane to be energy independent when they combine cane alcohol with the petroleum they drill in the Atlantic Ocean. 

We hoped they would get on with it but things here move as slow as they move and we were prepared to spend the night. So at one point I took an Uber and spoke to an immigration officer about my entry stamp in my old passport now cancelled and he said just show them both to officials at the border Easy peasy.

Then we went to have lunch at our favorite fish restaurant where the perky capable server has been replaced by a dolt. The ceviche and fried fish was as good as ever but they repeatedly failed to remember our lemonade and the sauce tray never appeared. Oh well. 

I have this fantasy that as an old man I shall live in an Andean village dressed in white linen accompanied everywhere by my smelly faithfully dog. I shall be the old gringo, tolerated but misunderstood (my life’s work). I thought this house on Cruz Verde (green cross ) street might be my restored refuge. Then I remember all the buses that roar down here all day. Well, that’s another fantasy crushed. 

We paid our third visit to the tailor’s shop (sastreria).  We dropped off some broken clothes last Wednesday and paid to have the modifications done. Ready by Saturday said Mr Castillo. 

He lied. When he asked if we could be back in 90 minutes we should have lied and said we’d be right back but instead we said see you Monday. 

His buddies hang out and read the paper but Mr Castillo (below) cuts and sees and deals with customers who are a constant flow. We sat and waited this time. Look at that gorgeous sewing machine:

Eventually I took an Uber back to Rusty who was sleeping hard on the bed and didn’t even get up.

Naturally the electronic expert had not shown up at 3pm as promised so I had a chat with Renzo who called him back. Tuesday morning for sure. I said to Renzo if he doesn’t show up we’re putting the engine back together and we’re done. Fat load of good that will do but we settled down to a dusty night in the shop. 

It’s Tuesday morning and they are working on installing the flex ethanol sensor. Fingers crossed we will have a flex fuel van good to drive in Brazil where gasoline is at least a quarter ethanol. This might work. 

You never thought overlanding would be so fiddly, did you? And now Argentina has imposed health insurance requirements for visitors. Sigh. 

We have to go to Chile to do some front end maintenance, crazy I know but there it is, and we both are looking forward to making some time to camp on the beach where we have find memories.  It’s not all bad being in the road. 

San Camilo Market Arequipa

Layne took herself off to the covered market in Arequipa Sunday afternoon and brought back fruits and cooked foods. I stayed at the campground sunbathing with Rusty hence just pictures and no words. Today we are at the mechanic getting our ethanol flex fuel system installed in GANNET2 and at the vet getting Rusty’s exit papers for a run to Chile to get done front end parts for GANNET2. But for now, the market.