Refreshed from a sound nights sleep we said goodbye to La Aldea and headed back up the dirt track to the I-14. The ominous grey sky didn't’t matter. The toll road attendant was waiving his arms and shouting. Lisa clearly didn’t have a clue as to what and the three cars that had lined up behind us were growing impatient. It took us a while to work out that we weren’t meant here. Bikes don’t pay the road toll but we’d missed the small break in the barrier. The sign for the ‘Motos’ was barely readable for rust. We made it through with only cm’s to spare.

The 135 took us over the dark brown waters of the Rio Uruguay and the long sweeping bend brought us down to the border and 50 minutes later we’d been checked out of Argentina an into Uruguay, (country No. 40). We’ve driven an hour North of Paysandu town centre (check mapfor more detail) and camped for the night at a camp built on a hot natural spring at Termas De Guaviyu. It’s a funny thing; we’ve enjoyed remarkable hospitality over the last few months but it feels wonderful to be back in our home, (the tent) which comes with a great feeling of familiarity and safety. Can’t wait to get on the road tomorrow and not knowing where we’ll be tomorrow night!

We didn’t get the early start we thought about last night, it didn’t matter. The Sun made a brief appearance as we checked out of the campsite, but didn’t stay long enough to take the edge off the biting chill we were to ride in all day.

If we could avoid too many police check points we were hoping to ride down to Colonia de Sacramento on the coast, 20 minutes after setting off we’d already been waived down for a ‘security check’, well not really…the policemen ended up saying hello, where are we from, where are we going and then spent 5 minutes looking at the bikes. He didn’t even ask to see any documentation. We waived goodbye and got back on the road. The I-25 is not the most interesting of roads and so far Uruguay looks pleasant but pretty unremarkable. By late afternoon we’d decided not to go into Fray Bentos, we were just too cold, all we wanted was to get to Colonia, stick up the tent and get into our sleeping bags to warm up. By late afternoon we’d turned off the I-2 and decided to cut across country on a mixture of old road and dirt track to find the road the would lead us into Colonia.
The municipal campsite in the winter looks pretty dodgy. It’s not much more than an occasionally used footy field in the middle of a circle of tired looking trees. The attendant didn’t want to be there and wouldn’t talk to Lisa, between his chosen words and facial sneers we understood that he wasn’t about to waste his time talking with a mere female. “shit, that’s a shame” I thought, “Lisa Spanish is much better than mine, you’ve just made life much harder for yourself ‘cause now your going to have to prat about trying to understand me”? Lisa by this time had walked off in disgust and had her *’fcuk off face*^ firmly fixed in place…Oh if looks could kill.

With the tent up and bikes unpacked to a minimum it was now pitch black. Neither of us fancied getting the cook gear out and so with a unanimous vote of 2 to I was elected to go into town and try to pick up dinner. The small café I’d passed twice already looked inviting. With a smattering of Spanish and more than a handful of pigeon English I ordered a slice of pizza and some pasta and sat down to watch the fuzzy TV in the corner. Something was happening in London? President Blair was grinning, a lot, a huge sign saying thank you was being hoisted and a town full of French folk were booing and hissing. !!!Fantastic, the Olympics are coming to London in 2012! I was suddenly feeling very proud and more than a little patriotic.

Back at the camp we ate hurriedly, well, we figured the faster we ate, the sooner we’d warm up in the sleeping bags we’d been fantasizing about all day. Sad but true.

Back at the same café for coffee, Lisa and I watched horrified as the Spanish version of CNN broadcast photos and video of the Terrorist attack on London. The graphic footage was a shock, we’re pretty sure the scenes broadcast were much more graphic than those that would have been censored and transmitted in the UK. My first thought was for Sally (my sister) who lives and works in London.
Our deepest sympathy and condolence goes to the victims and families of those affected by this cowardly act.

Sombred and saddened by this morning news we rode to Punta de Este. The Cann’s of Uruguay’s coast. It’s like a ghost town, very salubrious but spookily still.

With no camp sites open we ended up staying at Best Western hotel at $50 per night. Ouch! Find it at GPS: S34 56.683 W54 56.444

We’d ridden round Punta del Este and had parked up in a lay-by to finally fix our gear, and do up any buttons and poppers we’d missed earlier. The large silver BMW 4X4 driving across the curbs and sand mounds towards us had got our attention. Parked up along aside us the smiling inhabitants were soon out and asking, “you speak English or Spanish”? “Err, umm, English” we spluttered, still a little surprised at the effort the M5 had taken to get across to us.
We soon found out why. Mariano Sanchez introduced himself and his colleague and after complimenting on the bikes, slipped us his card…which read, Mariano Sanchez, General Manager BMW Motorrad Argentina & Uruguay. This was freaky? “I know your name”, I blurted. I quickly explained that Lachlan Harris (the GM for BMW Motorrad in South Africa) had mentioned Mariano by name after having recently returned from a BMW international meeting in Germany and had offered to write a letter of introduction and recommendation to his South American counterparts on our behalf. Mariano laughed. “I will send Lachlan an email and ask him, where is my letter”? We spent the next 20 minutes chatting and were invited to the BMW Argentina National meeting (much like South Africa’s ABBG), which will be held in Uruguay on or around the 5th, 6th, 7thof November. If we can we’d love to make it.
With cards exchanged we waived Mariano farewell and made ready to get on the road, not before taking a few photos of the Uruguayan Police motorcyclist who’d been listening eagerly to most of our conversation.

We followed route 1 out of town, right up to the point where it just stops! The dirt track to the right seemed to go in the right direction and would make a welcome break from the asphalt. Sweeping dusty bends took us through lush green countryside, every hectare as far as we could see full of cows. The main route 9 arrived all too soon and we made the turn and headed North.
We stopped South of Rocha for our first food of the day and enjoyed Tortilla and garlic chips and ate slowly allowing our selves to be warmed, for a little while at least. The family of 5 we watched eyeing the bikes were still outside when we were ready to leave and we were soon deep in conversation as to where we’d been, how far we’d traveled and where we’d be going next. The older gent strongly suggested we did not stay at Punta del Diablo, but recommended the ‘Parque Nacional Santa Teresa’. “It is very safe”, he informed us earnestly. Major Jorge Peseira, introduced himself and explained his military rank. “The Park is the only national park in the world to be under military control and authorization” he explained proudly. With that he borrowed a pen and paper and wrote explicit instructions to his guards on the gate to admit us without delay and then dated it and signed it. He told us to hand the instruction to the soldiers on duty and we were to be his guest…so we did.
Handing over our scribbled pass, the soldiers put away their entry forms, welcomed us to the park and informed us that we should make camp anywhere we wanted. “This is too good to be true” great we thought. Half an hour later we’d ridden right down to the sea and made camp in amongst the scrub and dunes.

With the last of the light gone we simply sat outside and watched the star covered sky for an hour. The amount of stars over here is truly amazing; I’ve never seen the milky way so clearly or seen it cover so much sky.
Dairy time; I’ve hooked up the computer with the new power device we bought in BA, which allows me to run a number of electrical devices from 8v up to 24v, right off the 12v power supply from the bike. Works great.

With the waves crashing just over the dunes behind us we settled down to a good nights sleep.

We’ve decided to stay for another day and explore the park a little. I caught up on the web site this morning whilst Lisa wandered around the beautiful gardens. The impressive stone lookout tower is now part of the military complex. We spent the afternoon walking around the 17th century fort. Even the weathers taken a turn for the better with the Sun putting in welcome appearance.

Dinner was salami, cheese, bread and a bottle of wine for 63 pesos (about £1.20), which we slowly ate, sat on the beach watching the Sun sink behind the tall trees to our left. We’ve seen two people all day…bliss.