Leaving Uruguay

Now, after spending far longer than we had intended in this country, it was really time to get a move on. Our slow week by the river had meant that we now needed to move every day if we wanted to make it to the campout the following week. Before leaving, we headed to the visitor centre to fill up our water tank. The guy there was lovely. He showed us around everything — we could use the showers, the wifi and even the BBQ if we wanted to, and of course we were welcome to fill the tank. All for free.

Fully stocked, we headed out. We planned to camp later near the small village of Tambores.

First though, we had to get back through the toll. It should have been no problem — we’d already loaded the exact amount of money onto the account. We pulled up at the barrier and the guy came over. We gave the usual explanation. Yes, we know we need an account. Yes, we have one. Yes, it has credit on it. He wasn’t having any of it. He insisted we park up and get out.

We got rather annoyed. Normally they just read our plates out to the office over the walkie talkie and lift the barrier, but he refused. Then he turned around and told us that we didn’t understand what he was trying to say. No mate, the problem is that you aren’t listening. We get this sometimes. It seems like some people decide they can’t understand us before they’ve even tried. Somewhere in their brain a switch flicks and they’ve already decided we don’t speak the language. It’s incredibly frustrating, especially when you know you are speaking their language and they simply refuse to listen.

Lee got out, slamming the door behind him. He returned shortly afterwards saying that yes, we did have credit on the account, but only enough for this toll. Well yes, that was exactly the point. Finally they opened the barrier and we screamed through, not shifting out of first gear until the rev counter hit at least 5,000rpm — a small mechanical token of our displeasure.

We headed back to Tacuarembó to stock up once again and then continued on towards Valle del Edén. We decided we’d camp there for the night. It was basically just a large layby beside a dirt road, but it broke up the drive nicely and there was also a small gorge nearby where we could go for a swim. As I hadn’t fallen off my horse, I was due a wash.

We parked up beside the road next to what may or may not have been the site of some kind of satanic ritual.

Just next to us someone had built a large wooden viewing platform overlooking the valley. The cats loved it, mostly because they could crawl underneath it and sit completely out of our reach.

The next morning we decided to walk down to the gorge. I slightly miscalculated this. I had read that it was a 1km walk. Easy. What I failed to notice was that it was 1km from the road, and we first had to walk several kilometres along the road to get there. We were therefore not remotely prepared for the extra distance. We’d brought our shower stuff but no water and no suncream — decisions we would soon regret.

Still, we made it to the gorge and had a lovely skinny dip in the pools.

By the time we finally made it back to the van, it really should have been time to leave. Unfortunately Lexi had buggered off underneath the decking again and refused to come out. We applied liberal amounts of aftersun, packed everything away and waited for her to change her mind. Eventually she emerged, though by then she had completely ruined our plans of making it to the border town of Salto that day. Since we’d already packed everything away, we decided to at least drive until we lost the light. We eventually made it as far as Quebracho, about an hour south of Salto.

The next day the plan was to cross the border, but first we wanted to visit the hydroelectric dam nearby. It was a scorching hot day and we parked under the shaded covers outside the main building. The tours ran every hour and we only had a short wait until the next one. We ended up being the only people on it.

A lady first showed us a large moving model in the atrium. She explained that the dam lets 615 cubic metres of water through every second. This enormous volume powers 14 turbines, shared equally between Uruguay and Argentina. Altogether the dam produces 1,890MW of electricity and supplies power to around five million people.

Armed with these impressive statistics, we climbed into an air-conditioned minibus and were first driven to a viewpoint overlooking the dam itself.

Then we drove across the dam, stopping to peer inside one of the huge turbine halls where the tops of the enormous 11 metre turbines could be seen below us. I’d never done a hydroelectric dam tour before and honestly, it was really interesting. I also greatly appreciated a few moments in the air conditioning.

The original plan had been to cross the border that same afternoon. In the heat though, we changed our minds. Since we didn’t have pet papers, the cats needed to remain hidden. On such a hot day we didn’t feel comfortable putting them into their bags for long periods, especially in the heat. They had also spent the entire day inside the van and now desperately wanted to go out. They know the routine by now — after a drive, we stop and they get released. It therefore seemed entirely reasonable to assume that if we stopped at the border they might start loudly protesting from the back.

In the interests of everybody involved, we instead headed down to the river to camp for the night. We’d cross first thing in the morning while it was still cool and while the girls were still sleepy and settled. In the meantime, we could at least cool ourselves off with a swim, filter some more drinking water and enjoy this lovely place.

It turned out to be a surprisingly beautiful evening. The riverbank was a well-maintained park where you could simply pull off and camp right beside the water.

It was so hot that even the river barely cooled us down, though thankfully the temperature dropped enough overnight for us to sleep properly. Lexi managed to relax!

The following morning we got moving early before the heat really kicked in. We packed the girls into their bags in the back — already an improvement over the last border crossing attempt where we’d only had one bag between them. We stacked clothes boxes in front and headed off.

Within minutes we had completed all the paperwork for ourselves and for Ruby. Then we rolled up to the checkpoint itself. The border guard gave the inside of the van a half-hearted glance through the open side door before waving us through.

Thrilled to have avoided the expensive pet paperwork, we immediately pulled over at a local regional produce shop and bought cheese to celebrate. We released the girls from the back of the van and continued at a leisurely pace towards Gualeguaychú.