
Warning: This is a long post, heavy on photographs.
Mark, Maya, and I entered Uruguay from Argentina without expectations. We knew the coast drew lots of people, Montevideo was the capital, and Colonia del Sacramento was a highlight and UNESCO World Heritage Site. And that the country was super expensive, aptly called the Switzerland of South America.
(As always, hover over or click on photos in galleries to read their captions.)
Dealing with the border formalities was a bit confusing (everyone from either side wanted to inspect our camper) but didn’t take too long. We were a tad nervous regarding the “prohibited items” we brought to sustain ourselves and our dog (check the blue sign and guess what we carried), but Maya’s paperwork was in order, which proved important – and distracting – enough.
Salto Grande Dam
Right across the border, on the outskirts of Salto, we stopped by the Salto Grande dam, operated by both countries. There, Mark and I partook in a free tour, conducted in Spanish.
Afterwards, mid-afternoon, we decided to put some miles behind our wheels, since we hoped to cross the entire country and reach the coast within a few days. In Uruguay, we planned our route and stops more carefully, due to the costs. When gasoline has a price tag of $7 a gallon (about $2 per liter), you think twice about detours and their “worth.”
We stopped at a small clearing in the bushes, out of view, for that first night. The next three days, we leisurely traversed the hinterland of Uruguay, gazing at the well-kept homes and fields and feeling happy for the livestock – mostly horses, cows, and sheep – with all that juicy, bright-green grass everywhere!
We also came across a dinosaur display, with preserved footprints and information signs.
The people we met along the way were friendly, we enjoyed this peek into lesser-known territory, and we happily noticed the lack of garbage everywhere, but we were surprised at the state of the throughways.
Thinking that Uruguay was a relatively developed nation with a relatively western mentality, we had counted on beautifully paved main roads everywhere. Not in the back country. For at least 100 of the 400 miles across, we dealt with broken pavement, potholes, road work, or dirt tracks going east-west. The north-south equivalents seemed in better shape.
La Coronilla
The Atlantic coast brought pleasant surprises. First, we arrived at La Coronilla at the exact same time a familiar-looking kombi VW bus did. Mark recognized them as the Kombi Chronicles, a British couple with two cats, who had been exploring Latin America overland for a few years. We knew Willow and Lee through Facebook, WhatsApp groups, and mutual friends. It was great to finally meet! (They have a popular YouTube channel and Facebook page as well.)
After an introductory chat, they decided to stay another day, a Sunday, on which we hung out all afternoon and evening, chatting, exchanging stories, and sharing popcorn and wine. It’s always nice to meet like-minded folks and we hope to run into them again soon, on the way to – or in – Patagonia.
Our boondocking spot offered an “exotic” setting under palm trees, long walks on the beach, a decent view, and the sound of waves when falling asleep. It was quiet at night, so all three of us could rest up.
After Mark and I made plans to go on a ten-day vacation with my cousin, Griet, and her husband, Wim, we needed to pick a place. The four of us briefly considered Eastern Poland plus part of the Czech Republic (too much driving) and Denmark (too expensive), destinations within the 900km radius we set as a maximum distance. Together we’d already been to northern France and the Netherlands during long weekends, so we settled on the Black Forest in Germany for one week and Liechtenstein for two days. Adding all the driving, we’d be gone for eleven days and ten nights.
Why Liechtenstein? It sounded mysterious, I’d never been there, neither had anyone I know, it can be visited in a short time, and it wasn’t too far away from the Black Forest.
Because Liechtenstein is very expensive (as is Switzerland), we opted to stay nearby in Austria for three nights and use a roomy, well-equipped, but hot apartment in Koblach as a base. Not that we were home a lot! Most visitors peruse this tiny country in one day, but we managed to keep ourselves entertained for two full days; enough if you don’t plan any hikes in the Alps.
(As always, click on or hover over photos in galleries to read their captions.)
Liechtenstein is a German-speaking, 25km-long principality (ruled by a prince) between Austria and Switzerland, officially called Principality of Liechtenstein ((Fürstentum Liechtenstein). Hence the letters FL on license plates.
The country is double-landlocked, which means that its neighboring countries are also landlocked. There are only two of those in the world: Liechtenstein and Uzbekistan. It has around 40,000 inhabitants and consists of just over 160 square kilometers (62 square miles). It is Europe’s fourth-smallest country and one of the few nations in the world without debt.
While Liechtenstein is not a part of the European Union, it has a close (financial) relationship with Switzerland, which explains the local currency being the Swiss franc. Credit cards are widely accepted. To save money, we brought sandwich lunches on those two days in the country.
On day one, we skimmed along Switzerland’s eastern edge, crossed the border, and focused on the bottom half of Liechtenstein. We started at its southern tip, in Balzers, where we climbed a hill and visited the deserted Gutenberg Castle. The inside was not accessible but we still enjoyed the looks of this typical castle and its views over the mellow city.
Followers of this blog might have come across the names Griet and Wim in the past. My cousin and her husband are more than just family; they are friends and fellow travelers who have visited us on many occasions. Every year or two, they joined us on our sailing catamaran Irie in the tropics (once with their then teenage children), they stayed at a house sit in California, and, last fall, they traveled with us in Peru for three weeks. Whenever we are in Belgium, we spend a lot of time with them (two weekends this summer, involving beer brewing) and – when time permits – we go on trips together.
Since Mark, Maya, and I dedicated two full months in Belgium, we decided on a ten-day vacation in Germany and Liechtenstein with them. If you know us, traveling the world is our lifestyle; we combine chores, work, driving, visiting, and leisure. Vacation time – strangely enough – is rare. To be honest, this trip with Griet and Wim was my first real holiday in 21 years and Mark’s first week off, since he started his current job two years ago. So, it was a special occasion!

Hexenlochmühle in the Black Forest
Being from Belgium, it is hard to believe that I’d never set foot in the Black Forest! And, even my cousin and her husband had never vacationed in Germany before. Mainly because none of us speaks the language, although we did just fine and knew enough German to get by. Other than Mark. 😊
We broke up the 7-hour drive to the Black Forest with a walk and sandwich lunch stop at the popular and crowded Geierlay suspension bridge. It is the second-longest one in Germany.
(As always hover over or click on photos in galleries to read their captions.)
Our group spent four nights in the northern part of the region, in an apartment in Enzklösterle, which was surrounded by woods. Ideal for walks with Maya.
The Airbnb was well equipped and we especially liked the outdoor space. The weather was good enough to have happy hours on the balcony. We cooked some meals at home, often packed sandwich lunches. and ate out every other day or so. This routine kept the trip affordable.
From Enzklösterle, we made daytrips to the surrounding villages and natural sites. Our rough schedule during those ten days was to leave around 9:30am and return by 5pm; quite busy for Mark and me.
Day one:

First view over the Black Forest
Many of you know that I, Liesbet, was born, raised, and educated in Belgium. But, did you know that it has been 21 years since I actually lived there (July 2003)?
That’s right, I have officially been a nomad for over two decades now. During that time of sailing, RVing, house and pet sitting, and overlanding (a fancy term for roughing it internationally in a vehicle), I tried to return to my home country once a year or every other year. During Covid, it took three years before I was able to see my family and friends again. Too long!
For me, it comes easy to leave everything behind, because I have an adventurous streak and do just fine on my own (and with my husband and furry companions). If I were to get homesick easily, miss my loved ones too much, or crave familiarity and routine, this roaming lifestyle would not be a good match! That is not to say I don’t enjoy summer visits “back home,” usually for two or three weeks at a time.
(As always, click on or hover over photos in galleries to read their captions.)
Mark, Maya, and I are currently in Belgium. For two entire months! This is beyond exciting and special. For once, there is no need to rush, have an overfull schedule, and feel more tired when I leave than when I arrived. It’s not a vacation – Mark and I still perform our jobs – but to be living in comfort with a healthy dose of routine, convenience, and luxury is something we don’t take for granted and enjoy immensely.
This visit to Belgium follows a hellishly busy three weeks in Massachusetts, USA, during which we combined tons of health visits and follow-ups (22 between Mark and me; two for Maya) with work, taking care of my mother-in-law, dealing with (extra) issues regarding her car, running errands, preparing for our trip to Belgium, buying gear for Thirsty Bella in Argentina, and squeezing in leisure time with friends.
Mark, Maya, and I had plenty of time to reach Buenos Aires when we left San Rafael earlier than planned, as we bid farewell to our friends, who needed to prepare for their departure from South America as well. Our flights to the US wouldn’t leave from Argentina’s capital until June 11th and it was only May 22nd when we began our boring three-day ride east, across the continent and country.
Realico
Our first driving day consisted of five uninspiring hours in the car on this flat stretch of Central Argentina. Because of the decent, straight roads, we could let our “pothole guard” down, listened to Spotify music through our Starlink antenna, and clocked decent fuel mileage.

Play on words in the province La Pampa
In grey, rainy, and cold Realico, we found many mosquitoes, a free municipal campground where we spent two nights, and the cheapest gasoline in months. Especially since the exchange rate for the peso had finally gone up. Three weeks out from temporarily leaving our life on the road behind, we started to plan meals around getting rid of all our food – dry and fresh.

Free Municipal Campground in Realico
Junin
As I mentioned before, Mark and I never know what to expect when we pick a potential campsite in our iOverlander app. We usually have a back-up in mind, when things don’t turn out upon arrival. Well, after another boring drive east, Laguna de Gomez in Junin offered extensive areas of green grass, level spots, and a peaceful atmosphere. We loved it from the moment we arrived, took Maya for a walk, and settled in for a few days.

Colorful town sign of Junin
Except, this was the night I described in my expense report of May 2024; when the temperature dropped well below freezing, the butane in our propane tank failed to produce gas, and we couldn’t cook or heat our camper anymore. Mark poured warmish water over the tank after heating that up on the struggling pilot-size flame of our stove, which saved us from shivering more. We needed a better solution!
(As always, click on or hover over the photos in galleries to read their captions.)
Our options: top up the now half-empty butane tank with propane, which would make everything function again in cold weather or move to a location where it wouldn’t freeze. Since it was a holiday Saturday, nobody would be able to sell us propane. So, after a nice walk with Maya and the discovery that our electric lock had a problem, we left our wonderful spot by the lagoon.
San Antonio de Areco
After another three hours of driving, we reached San Antonio de Areco, an attractive town not too far from Buenos Aires. Due to a parking ban, there is really only one decent place to wild camp, near the museum on the edge of town. The weather forecast promised above-freezing temperatures here and we would top up our propane tank first thing on Monday. Due to all the cold weather, condensation had become a problem and mold was growing in the seams of Bella’s walls. We attacked it with a bleach-water mixture and lifted the mattress with a fan blowing underneath.
The center of town was relatively attractive as far as Argentina goes (but still nowhere near as cute as its Colombians counterparts) and within walking distance of our camper. The nearby park was great for dog walks as well. A restaurant in the neighborhood threw awesome Sunday asados (grilled meat fests). While appealing, we passed due to the frigid weather. We hope to return for this meal in the future.
Mark, Maya, and I would meet our Vermonster friends Heather and Jon in Tupungato, where we’d spent a few chilly nights previously, and travel together through Atuel Canyon and San Rafael for a week or two. If I complained about the cold in a previous blog post, well, winter seemed to have arrived early. That’s when living in a poorly insulated, solar-powered camper becomes less enjoyable.
(As always, hover over or click on photos in galleries to read their captions.)
Tupungato
After hugging our friends from Meat Around The World goodbye in Mendoza, our trio drove back south to Tupungato. We would have loved to meet Heather and Jon at Bodega Giaquinta to buy more wine, but the new, restricted opening times didn’t fit our schedule, so we returned to the municipal campground. Our friends would buy extra wine and meet us there.
We parked in the same spot, were accompanied by the same, wagging dogs, and enjoyed more walks among the fall colors. But, by now, it was way too cold and cloudy to sit outside or walk to the shower block. We used our own amenities, filled up with drinking water afterwards, and managed to plug into the electric system of our friends. This allowed our Lithium battery to finally charge to 100% – a huge help – which hadn’t happened in six months or so!
It was wonderful to see our friends again and spend more time together. On this first evening, Mark made ossobuco and squash risotto for the group. Delicious!
Manzano Historico
It was grey and it was cold, so we weren’t in a rush to explore the canyon yet. On the drive to Manzano Historico, we made a brief stop at Bodega Azul. We managed a little wine tasting and bought a couple of bottles of wine (Mark and I really like their Chardonnay), but the place was expensive and fully booked for lunch, so the atmosphere wasn’t ideal. We moved on early afternoon.
Little did we realize our next destination was even higher up… That dawned on us when I saw all the roofs in town were white and wondered why. Snow! To our horror, the picnic tables were covered with the white stuff when we pulled into the municipal campground. We needed the heater here during the day as well.
I had it all figured out: I’d walk to the closest metro station from our wonderful free camping spot in Santiago, ride the line to the bus station, take a two-hour bus trip west to Valparaiso, explore the town during the day, and return home the same way.
Then, our friends Abigail, Richie, and Zoe from Meat Around The World were interested in joining me. Great! Last minute, we realized that if we rented a car for the day, Mark and Maya would be able to come as well, plus this would give everyone more freedom and comfort than a return journey by public transportation.

Part of our group in Valparaiso
(Photo courtesy of Richie Gubler)
The reason we didn’t want to take our own campers was the bad reputation Valparaiso has regarding petty crime, car beak-ins, and tire slashings of foreign-plated vehicles. All of us had just installed new tires in Santiago, so now was definitely not a good time to take extra risks. There certainly is a grimy side to this port city.

Screenshot of Valparaiso in iOverlander – all the red and white warning signs mark robberies, break-ins, or tire slashings!
After a late start, a two-hour drive on fantastic toll roads, and finding a safe and covered parking spot for the rental car, the six of us set off on foot to discover the colors, murals, and old ascensores (elevators) of Valparaiso during the afternoon. Here is a photo gallery of our day as full-blown tourists.
(As always, hover over or click on photos in galleries to read their captions.)
(It might be easier to read the table when turning your device in the horizontal position.)
Find all our expense reports here. To learn what other full-time nomads spend each month, check out the blogs of our vanlife friends Duwan and Greg at Make Like An Ape Man.
Next up: A colorful day trip from Santiago to Valparaiso, Chile.
If you are enjoying these posts, please consider donating to Roaming About in support of our website and our lifestyle. A big thank you to all our readers who have helped out in the past!
© 2026 Roaming About
Theme by Anders Noren — Up ↑