Paysandu, Uruguay

The road to Paysandu is long and paved with adventure. I raced across the bridge and was able to get into Uruguay before the hippies closed the road again. They are doing this because the President of Uruguay got on the news and made statements about the paper plant and the protesters to the effect that Uruguay was going to open the biggest cellulose plant in the Americas right across the river from Argentina, and the Argentines were acting illegally in closing the bridge. There are also a lot of commercials on Argentine TV for Uruguay Natural, the government tourism agency, so the Uruguayans are sending mixed messages.

I have a year and won´t have the same problems I had in Argentina when I go back. Now I´ve got to figure out where to leave the bike.

Yesterday started off cool but bright, the storm had blown through, and the day looked like it might turn out to be warm. Then I went from Ruta 7 to Ruta 8 and found myself in a thick tule fog for about twenty miles. The thin strip of rubber on my left glove got quite a workout keeping the faceshield clean.

Finally I got through the fog and settled in for miles and miles of pampa. Something new is wrong with my bike, because I am getting 120 or 130 km before the fuel runs out, and before I was getting about 160. But it still runs and if anything breaks, I have a year to deal with it.

Crossing out of Rosario into Entre Rios, I saw the effects of the recent rainfall. The lowlands are flooded, and there are cows wandering around up to their necks in water. At the tollbooth, I was given a flier warning me about loose livestock and the road was posted with warnings about it too. I thought this must be a terrible tragedy, then saw a couple of boats made for rounding up cows in the water, so evidently this is fairly regular, and the farmers have prepared for it.

I got stopped by the Entre Rios police for crossing a double yellow line to get around a truck. The first cop asked me if I did, and I said that everybody does, so he transfered me to another cop to collect the fine. The fine was $330 at first. He told me they had a digital photo of me crossing the double yellow line, and asked if I did. I said I didn´t remember. It may have been a truck, it may have been six trucks, three cars and a pickup. He called up the road and someone on the radio relayed back my license plate and description, and that I passed a truck on the double yellow line. Why there was about five km. of freshly painted double yellow line on the long straight stretch right before the police roadblock was a mystery to me. I told him to give me a ticket and I would pay the judge. He said I had to pay them, and produced a form, in triplicate, that looked very official. It even had a stamp on it. Then he showed me one that was filled out, where some idiot had actually paid them almost $100 for something. I told him I wanted to go to the judge. He told me that they were going to detain my bike for 12 hours, and then I could go to the judge. They do this right before the bridge is closed for the weekend, so you are pressured to settle up. I asked where I could pitch my tent. Then the fine was $33. Apparently there´s a 90% discount for cash on roadside traffic fines in Entre Rios. I said I wanted to pay the judge, and would turn myself in in Colon, the next town up the road. He showed me on the form where I had to either pay them, or go to the court in Parana, about 200 miles away. Very good thinking on the part of whoever had the forms made. I said fine, I´ll go to Parana. He asked me if I´d been in Argentina before. I said yes, and he then said, ¨so you know how this works, don´t you?¨ Then he handed me back my documents and I was on my way.

In Colon, I filled up my bike and my spare tank. Every time I check into a hotel, I wonder to myself why they let me take 3 gallons of gas into my room. I wouldn´t if it was my hotel.

So here I am, now I´ve got to cross Uruguay and find somewhere to put the bike.

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