End of the line

The antique Commer truck. September 2012:

firewood truck, Atlántida, Uruguay

December 2012:

December 2014 – mistakenly thought to be a different one:

Ancient Commer truck in Uruguay

January 2016: and yet again, parked at the zoo:

ancient Commer truck parked in Uruguay

Alas, on a dreary day in 2019, that sad truck that appears to have finally reached the end of the line:

Interesting to reflect that this truck was built the year I was born. Happy to report I’m holding up better….

Christmas Eve

Our first Uruguayan passports, good for five years, were expiring. Arranging to renew them turned out to be relatively easy; done and paid online. When we got to the passport office, though, we lacked our credenciales civicas, which after a trip to the Corte Electoral, turned out to be big pieces of paper we got with our citizenship.

So, the next day we returned with those. No, they were supposed to be renewed after three years. Though an Uruguayan friend told me the credencia civica is nothing more than a voting card, it was indeed required for a passport (which she doesn’t have). The clerk this time had a printed paper we could take to the Corte Electoral, where the same friendly person said no, that’s not here, that’s a block away. So we went a block away, got numbers, and started the process until we got to the address part. We don’t have/can’t invent an address in Montevideo? Then we’ll have to go to the office in our departamento, Canelones. After a nice lunch in a new restaurant (rated #1 in Montevideo), we found the office, and got everything done – until my wife’s fingerprints. They just weren’t sufficient on four or five fingers. So: make appointment with dermatologist, come back with doctor’s note if this can’t be fixed, and we’ll proceed from there.

Booking a doctor appointment online with Asociación Española is also quite easy, but the soonest we could get to a dermatologist was a month away, in Montevideo.

Which is how we ended up there on Christmas Eve. Would there be such a thing as a routine doctor’s appointment on Christmas Eve up north? It somehow strikes me as unlikely.

Anyway, it was a snap. We returned the way we came, which involved me making a left turn at a traffic light which invoked a chorus of blaring horns: yeah, OK, don’t turn left in Montevideo.

Nice lunch at Lo de Mónica, near Géant and Macro Mercado supermarkets, where we spotted this.

I’ve posted many times about Uruguayan handwriting, how 9s look like Ps or lollipops, but this a first: a Y written as a 7.

OK, that’s anticlimactic. So here’s a cool Dodge Power Wagon we then saw in the Géant parking lot.