Gualeguaychu, Argentina

The plan was to ride my bike across the border to Uruguay, return to Buenos Aires with another 8 months to leave the bike there, and ride someone else´s KLR 650 north to the USA. So what am I doing in Gualeguaychu, and why is my bike at the customs office, actually they wheeled it into the Customs office in Uruguay, where it has been confiscated until Monday, when I can go pay a fine equal to a third of the value of the bike and ride it off into the sunset or Uruguay.

I am extremely happy that when the bike ran out of gas today and I poured gas into the tank, some splashed out over the tank and all the plastic above the motor. The border office to leave Argentina and enter Uruguay is in Uruguay. Inside the customs and immigration office, the Argentines have two sections about 10 by 18 feet in shape, between two rectangles owned by the Uruguayos. My bike is sitting in one, stinking and reeking of gasoline.

If you have followed my tales since last year, you will remember when the Argentine protestors stopped me from going into Uruguay to do the paperwork so I wouldn´t be in this mess. I tried to explain to the one honest customs agent in all of Argentina that this happened, he told me to tell it to the boss, and wouldn´t listen to me when I asked if there wasn´t a way to fix the problem there. As much as I dislike him for not realizing that laws don´t apply to me, I do respect his honesty.

The Argentine customs agents gave me a ride to Gualeguaychu, and left me in front of a hotel. We were accompanied by a black Mormon with dreadlocks who only has 10 pesos and is trying to go 200 miles to Buenos Aires. They left him at the bus stop.

While I was there waiting for my new amigos from the Argentine customs office to finish their shifts, one of the Uruguayan naval officers who inspects trucks that enter Uruguay from Argentina let me ride his 50 cc scooter up and down in front of the customs office. The Argentines looked on unamused.