dare2go

Shipping - Part 2: Colombia


Quiet Cartagena on a Sunday

Continuation from < Page 1 < !

By 10 to 2 I was back at Seaboard (who didn't open for another 20 minutes, after some insistent knocking on their windows) only to be told that they couldn't issue the original "Bill of Loading" because they hadn't received the due payment from Barwil = great, all I needed! I made a fuss, telling them in my best Spanish that I knew they were working with Barwil on a regular basis, showed my receipt of payment, and told them to just trust Barwil that the issue would be solved. At 10 to 3, waiting in the heat outside, I finally got the paper and went back to the port authorities. There the same friendly woman from before made me jump the queue and took my papers, quickly issued the permit and payment slip, with which I had to pay my handling and port charges of 222,000 Pesos at the bank counter (in the same building). I also enquired about opening hours just to make sure that there was a chance to get all done in one day, since it was after 3:15: DIAN were closing at 5:00, the port authorities at 6:00. O.k. - with a bit of luck there was a chance.
First I needed an inspection from the customs officer in port, which meant finding another office and meeting the Brazilians once again. The custom's woman was rather flirtatious (with all men), particularly with the blonde Brazilian, so things took their time. First the camper had to be located, for which I had to enter port; I was issued a hard hat (would that protect me from a 40-foot-shipping container falling from the top of a stacked-six-high-tower?) and was guided to a storage shed, from where a worker led me to the truck at the end of a pier. On the way I had noticed the two cars of the Brazilians parked in a busier area, so I asked if I could move the camper next to them. My first time getting back behind the steering wheel (with my spare set of keys), and straight away I noticed the mess in the truck cabin; somebody had been searching every nook and cranny. After I had parked the camper near the shiny black BMW I went to the back, only to find the locks damaged (but not broken), turned on the gas bottles and opened the camper: it looked like nothing had been disturbed (what a relief!), so I turned on the power to get the fridge running and dealt with my customs inspection. Apart from a quick VIN-number-check I received a few more photocopies and signatures on each of them, and then had to go back to DIAN office in "Barrio Manda".
A quick walk back to the main road, flag down another taxi, and back to the DIAN office, where I had been first thing in the morning, only this time to get a signature from the “jefe” (boss). That should be easy, so I told the taxi driver, a nice guy who wasn't overcharging; he should maybe wait for me. Since there wasn't any room to park (there seems to be nowhere in Cartagena), he offered to circle the block. I went in and once again encountered the Brazilians, who told me that the "jefe" wasn't in and they had been waiting for 15 minutes already; o.k. back out, find my taxi, which I hadn't paid, and tell the driver not to bother. By 4:40 (20 minutes before closing!) the "jefe" appeared, and straight away disappeared into an office where we could watch him, through the darkened glass, having a relaxed conversation with two men. Time's ticking, by 4:50 he re-emerged, making some jokes with a couple of employees, and finally asked us very friendly what we needed. The Brazilians were first, so they explained in Spanish, and I said only "more or less the same". O.k. - first there were another three sets of photocopies needed of each and every piece of paper, but luckily I knew from the morning where to find the copy shop, so I was back in the office first, got my required signatures on all eight forms (two originals and three sets of copies) and had a short chat with the very charismatic "jefe" - the only official I dealt with the entire day who spoke some English...
5:15: another taxi ride back to the port authorities in El Bosque, back to the same lady I had dealt with before, and once again she was friendly enough to let me jump the queue! She took a few more photocopies, then stapled things together in a different order, handed me some, and sent me to another counter to get the port release form. I had to sign all three copies of each of these in three different locations and put a thumb print next to each signature = that's 9 signatures and prints! With this form I could then retrieve my original key from yet another building, which initially I was unable to find. But by 5:55 I had the key to our truck, just as the setting sun covered the dusty port in a reddish glow - finally out of here!
I made this assumption without taking the pompous and unfriendly guard at the gate in consideration! With no care for my limited language and my total exhaustion from running around all day he blabbered in some rapid Spanish to me, refusing to let me out. Instead I had to back in next to of one container stacks, and finally I picked up in his rapid swell of words that I should first drive over the vehicle scales, where a long line of semi-trailers was already waiting. In between he talked several times into his crackling radio, and finally he guided me to a tiny hut next to the weigh bridge, where I had to collect yet another stamp. Done? I didn't understand anything, let out a scream of frustration and exhaustion (so far I had kept my calm very well, maybe with the exception of the Seaboard office, when they refused my "Bill of Loading"), but now I was extremely tired and hungry, and I didn't want to drive in the dark either, particularly since I didn't know my way around. So I pulled back up to the gate, only to be screamed back at by this stupid guard, and being sent back to my waiting position, where by now I was blocking some of the port traffic. Finally he called me up, making a fuss of reading my VIN in the dwindling light and comparing it with the paper, asking a few more questions into his crackling radio, and - - - lets me graciously leave. Still: I had managed to leave the port before the Brazilians, who spoke fluent Spanish, and were most of the day a step or two ahead of me - but then they were always chatting up women and making the entire procedure more fun that way...
No way that in my current state of exhaustion I would be able to find a camping spot in the dark, so all I could do was go back to the hotel I had stayed at the night before. It was more dark than dusk when I pulled into a parking lot nearby, arranged the price, and walked the few meters to the hotel. God, my feet hurt! And I was so thirsty that I bought a beer at the front desk and emptied it in three gulps. But I still needed some food so my sore feet had to carry me to the restaurant down the road, and on the way back I even managed to stop at an internet café to send Yasha a short mail letting her know of my success.
The next day I went to a supermarket near the hotel to re-stock some important items in the fridge and buy something for breakfast (I didn't like the restaurant where I had been the first morning), retrieved my luggage from the hotel and the camper from the parking lot, ready to find some quiet spot to camp. Back in Panama the English couple had given us some directions which I remembered, so I drove out to Playa Manzanillo to stay at a beach restaurant. The greedy owner asked the same price I had paid in the hotel, and only when I was back in the truck reversing out did he agree to something more reasonable - though later he overcharged me for dinner. There was no shade, so in the full sun I started to move all the stuff from the camper back into the front of the truck, behind the seats. After 2½ hours I was done and fell totally tired onto the bed to have a nap. After an early dinner I went back to sleep at 8:30 - at least it was blissfully quiet here! When I got up in the middle of the night for a wee I noticed the fridge warning light on, so there was my first task for the next day: get more propane!
What an ordeal that was, to find a propane filling station in a city with over 1.1 million people and crazy traffic. Lets just say: I left the beach by 8:00, and finally had my bottles filled after 12:30, with over 60 miles more on the counter! The place which had finally sent me in the right direction was a petrol station with a very friendly owner, so when I passed it a second time I filled one tank and had the truck (and camper) washed there. I had wanted to get the car insurance and some opinion about the "Check Engine" problem on the same day, but since I wasn't back in the city before 1:40 I decided the FORD place had priority, and that I could do the insurance thing whilst the truck was at the mechanics.
FORD = don't get me started, because I'm sitting here in the camper, watching them do NOTHING!!! First day they claimed to have no time, and since the problem only happens with a cold engine they wanted to have the truck back the next morning at 8:00 - another morning being woken by my alarm! But it made sense... Yesterday, the second day, I think they didn't do much at all, and when I returned (from successfully buying an insurance policy) to pick up the truck in the evening they told me that they
1. didn't have equipment to check any model before 1995, ours is 1994
2. they suspected it could be a sensor or the diesel filter (which I had told them the first day!), but didn't have any diagrams of the engine electrics, yet their engineer would be checking them out for today (they could have initiated that the day I called in at 2:00 in the afternoon!)
3. they didn't have a diesel filter in stock, either! When I told them that I had one it turned out that the FORD dealer in San José / Costa Rica had sold me the wrong filter (another great FORD place - the one who didn't even have a fan belt!)
Today they have dismantled the filter so far, done nothing about the sensors, and it's after 2:00 in the afternoon. They claim that they have to get a filter - couldn't they have done that during the last 1½ days? All I want is to get out of here, out of this city, and find the nice quiet beach I had mentioned in the opening paragraph - and relax after the stress of the last two weeks...


 
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