February 2020

My Uruguay experience wasn’t overly long and far from an exhaustive exploration of the country. I had a specific mission - to get my car to the port in Montevideo and set it off on its way via container ship to Durban in South Africa. I would be joined by a new travel companion for Uruguay - Mick from the UK, a 68 year old, a husband, father, grandfather and a fellow overlander. We had found each online other and connected over the shared mission to get our cars from South America to the African continent.

The nature of international car shipping is that two cars is better than one. It means a lower cost when shared between the two vehicles and a high-cube container - one with a higher opening and for people like me, negates the need to remove the roof rack and other items on the car that make them tall.

Mick and I had found each other on the Container Buddies website and matched our overlapping requirements to move our cars on similar routes and at similar times. It was the first time I had found success in the online container matching service but this time it was meant to be. We’d corresponded for months after agreeing to ship together, lining up his flights and our respective travel plans to something mutually agreeable.

Eventually it was our time for a surreal meeting at the International Airport in Buenos Aires. I would drive to the airport and sit in a Hard Rock cafe waiting for the arrival of a guy I’d never met from the UK and then I would drive him up to Uruguay in my car, crossing an international land border and ultimately plan to camp that night after reuniting him with his car. It wasn’t a typical day with someone you were meeting in person for the first time.

The day went pretty much entirely as planned. Mick and I would spend the day getting to know each other as I piloted us north and east into Uruguay. After picking up his car from the storage facility (run by a lovely German woman and her Uruguayan husband), a storm would deter us from camping that evening and we diverted to Colonia on the coast to a hostel and then out for a ‘welcome back to South America’ meal of steak and beers.

Mick was very extremely well travelled and had spent years back-and-forth from South America and the UK leaving his car in long-term storage in Uruguay and moving it each year before his 12-month import permit expired, exploring more each time. Mick drove fast and he loved a pint. We were destined to get along.

Picking up Mick’s car from the overlander long-term storage. Uruguay is unique in that it has a 12-month TIP (temporary import permit) rather than the usual 90-days, making it a favoured country for many travellers to leave their vehicles. This part… — Picking up Mick’s car from the overlander long-term storage. Uruguay is unique in that it has a 12-month TIP (temporary import permit) rather than the usual 90-days, making it a favoured country for many travellers to leave their vehicles. This particular rural property catered to exactly these people and had a large barn on the property filled with vans, 4WDs and expedition trucks. They had made sure before our arrival that his battery was charged and without much fuss at all, Mick started up his familiar vehicle and shortly after we were straight on the road

Colonia

Mick would indulge my interest in some time in the old town of Colonia to check out the colonial city, ruins of past fortifications and the lighthouse. For his part, he’d been in and out of these parts many times and was pleased to be left alone with his car for a while. For me it was a new country and despite the practical nature of the trip here, I was still keen to experience my new surrounds.

We met a young Canadian named Aubrey by chance at our hostel as we were checking out. He noticed our international license plates and loaded vehicles and came to say hello as we prepared for the day’s drive. He had also travelled from the French-speaking portion of Canada to Uruguay much the same as I had, although his small displacement motorbike, slow pace and tight budget would have led to some variances in how we experienced the similar routes.

It never ceases to amaze me how common this path is - at a time I had felt like I was doing something crazy and unique but as time went on and the number of people I encountered doing similar journeys, it came to be a normal thing to meet others like us. There is an instantaneous bond formed when you meet someone in this circumstance - you immediately have a feel for the experiences that brought them to the place you met, an intimate understanding of the geography and landmarks through which they passed and in all likelihood a pretty good feel for the type of personality that would undertake such a thing.

Aubrey from eastern Canada had ridden this bike, with his few possessions and incredible distance to serendipitously meet us outside our hostel

I left Mick parked up on the sea wall to fiddle around with his vehicle - after all, he’d been separated from his travel companion for almost a year - while I wandered the streets of Colonia

A stunning colonial town that sparked memories of past times where such places would have a roaring sea trade and the threat of invaders and pirates necessitated the cannons lining the citadel

It’s a very charming old city with the many crumbling structures

Cobbled streets, old cars and lovely modern cafes occupying the old buildings of the city - on a perfectly sunny blue sky day no less - were perfect ingredients for a very content stroll through the site

While a touch touristy, you can’t blame them for capitalising on the natural interest of the travelers exploring these parts

I wish I had learned a bit more of the history of the city while here but the reality was it was a short stay in Colonia and we were on a mission to the port

One of relatively few occasions my path took me to the edge of the Atlantic Ocean

This became a familiar view - sat across from Mick with a beer in front of us (although on this occasion, he opted for a 7-Up as he fought to overcome the jet lag from his recent flight)

Outskirts of Montevideo

Subsequent to our drive from Colonia towards Montevideo, we would stop short of the capital city and find a campground near the ocean that would serve as our base while we made the final arrangements for our shipping. The site proved a relaxing location to retire each evening and we’d make friends with the people running the campground restaurant.

Stocking up on supplies (mostly beer) for a few nights of camping outside of Montevideo

Being near the ocean never gets old, no matter how many times I see it

Mick explained to me that he’d set up his car so that if he saw a nice spot for a quiet beer, he could have chairs out and beer in hand within a couple minutes. I loved the purposeful design of his car’s storage around this particular use case

I really couldn’t help but feel that I’d been transported to my home in Australia. The feel of the site and the many Eucalyptus trees were very reminiscent of many nights camped out in Victoria back home

While we were on the east coast of the continent, the way the coast bends around meant that we were looking out west over the ocean and sun would set over the water. With binoculars and a high vantage point, Argentina could be made out in the distan… — While we were on the east coast of the continent, the way the coast bends around meant that we were looking out west over the ocean and sun would set over the water. With binoculars and a high vantage point, Argentina could be made out in the distance

For the days were were camped, we would spend each night with the staff at this little restaurant. They would become increasingly friendly each night and prepare a special asado (BBQ) dinner just for us. After dinner, we would drink together and I would translate the banter to Mick who was very pleased to be out of the UK winter and into a sunny and friendly Uruguay.

Silvia was very pleased to share her homemade Limoncello and Mick did a great job of keeping up as a jet lagged 68 year old

Montevideo

My impression of Montevideo, and Uruguay in general, was that it is shared many characteristics with Argentina. The language and accent were largely similar. They appeared to enjoy maté to an even greater degree than the Argentinians with many carrying around special thermos holders as they wandered through the city and about their daily routines. The prices were significantly more expensive than most South American countries across the board. And the steak and red wine were not quite up to the Argentine standards but, nevertheless, was very good and the staple for most meals.

We really didn’t try very hard to explore broadly but the brilliant weather did afford us some very pleasurable walks around the central areas of the city

Palm trees and typical European-influenced South American architecture

I was fascinated by this building and its façade of different coloured windows, mish-mash of air conditioners and various blinds and curtains making for subtle colour differences across its giant glass face overlooking the central plaza

Mick a bit knackered after a solid day of walking around the city (didn’t help that he was doing it on an injured foot but he kept at it)

I love this: road road workers mid-morning firing up the BBQ in preparation for an early lunch

Shipping

The shipping process wasn’t much different to that which I’d experienced previously which is to say it was a slow, bureaucratic, a bit frustrating and a bit confusing. But like other shipping experiences, it invariably moves forward and you make slow steady progress as you move through a series of micro-challenges. Sign a piece of paper, pay a fee, connect with a person, find an office, get a signature, stamp a passport and on and on. But each of these small tasks sequentially brings you one step closer to the end and if one has patience and can enjoy the absurdity of it, and one has good company through the process, then it becomes a comical and memorable challenge.

Mick and I had the pleasure of going through the process with a French couple Agathe and Mathieu. We met them in the agents office on the first day. They had covered an impressive distance in a relatively short time, driving their Defender from France across the ‘Stans, Mongolia and Russia into Korea and then shipping to Colombia and driving the length of South America on a similar path to me. They would be good company during the shipping process and we’d go on to share some drinks back in Argentina as they prepared to head back home to France at the end of their journey.

For what it’s worth, we used Martin at IVSSUK as our shipping agent. Martin and his local agents are great and they made this process a whole lot easier than my last (much shorter) shipping around the Darien Gap. And this time, unlike Panama to Colombia, the local agents came with us to oversee the entire port process so we were really passengers this time making things a whole lot simpler.

The first step was to locate our shipping agent in Montevideo and get through some paperwork.

Agathe, Mathieu and their Land Rover which had seen them around a majority of the world in the preceding year

The trucks lined up outside the port as we begin the series of administrative challenges to get the cars into their boxes

Waiting, of course. Always there is waiting. Met a nice couple shipping a Troopy back to Europe

Eventually the paperwork was done and all that was left was physically putting the cars into the containers. This was the easy and the fun part. Agathe and Mathieu had to remove their roof rack as they were shipping in a 20’ with low clearance but for Mick and I, it was simply a matter of driving them inside, disconnecting the batteries and hiding the key under the floor mat and they locked the container door and we were done.

Removing the roof rack to get their Defender into the container

The Troopy in, Agathe and Mathieu prepare to drive their car into the box

There’s very little space each side once the car is in but enough to squeeze out of the drivers side door with a little bit of athleticism

No one is ever in a hurry at the port it would seem

Mick’s car nose-to-nose with mine with ratchet straps being put on. There’s very little clearance above with a roof top tent but enough in a 40’ high cube

All smiles once the process was complete and the agent drives us back to our hotels in the city

And of course, celebrating with Mick over a steak and a wine once it’s all done

With everything sorted and the car destined for Africa, there was nothing left to do but wave goodbye to Mick and head to the port again to take the Uruguay-Argentina ferry back to Buenos Aires. I was pleased that I sprung for a little bit extra for… — With everything sorted and the car destined for Africa, there was nothing left to do but wave goodbye to Mick and head to the port again to take the Uruguay-Argentina ferry back to Buenos Aires. I was pleased that I sprung for a little bit extra for the comfort of a first-class ticket and amused that we all had to put on these little paper booties to protect their carpet

Plans get derailed

The above all happened late February 2020. At the time, we had inclinations that COVID-19 was going to be a problem but the magnitude of the issue had not yet been made clear. In just under a month I would be booking a last minute flight out of Argentina to the safety and comfort of home in Australia.

Our ship arrived at the port in Durban about the time the whole world was scrambling for PPE and ventilators and the port had supposedly prioritised food and medical supplies in preparation for the troubles to come. This suited us fine as the longer the cars sat in unopened containers in the port, we hadn’t started the clock on the warehouse storage fees.

Eventually we were told that they were released and moved into the warehouse. I was lucky that Mick had undetermined plans to get to South Africa and we had chosen Durban because of the ability to use the warehouse facility. Had we chosen a different port, we may have been faced with the challenge of not being able to get to the port to receive the cars and yet not having a place for them to be. As it was, they had all the paperwork and as long as we paid the nominal warehouse fee, they could sit there and wait for us.

There still remains a couple unknowns such as how to deal with the 12-month carnet (my car’s passport to the African continent which is required to be renewed in person supposedly) as well as the more obvious questions like when will travel to Africa be possible (or maybe the bigger question of when I would be allowed to leave Australia).

In early July, I received a note from my mechanic in Cape Town who had awkwardly received various shipments of equipment I’d sent ahead and arrived during the South African lockdown. Dillon, one of the mechanics there, offered to pick the car up and transport it to Cape Town for fuel cost. This was a thrilling development.

So it happened that in early July, he picked up my car from Durban and transported it down to Cape Town to the workshop of Pon Steyn 4X4. There it can be stored and have my various improvements and equipment installed. The car will be getting a long range fuel tank, front and rear ARB air lockers, a bright and shiny piece of art that is the Allisport aftermarket aluminium radiator as well as new tires and some basics servicing and minor repairs.

That is the situation and it won’t change for a while. The car is safe and it will wait for me. And the world will try its best to deal with this pandemic.

For my part, I’ve been given a gift which is time in Australia to explore my own backyard and discover the wonders of my home state of Western Australia and beyond once state borders open. It’s funny that it took the world to be in the state it is for me to consider exploring my home country. But now that the opportunity has presented itself, it’s an opportunity I’m embracing with open arms.