Our Crazy Mercedes Vario Idea in Chile – A Waste of Time?

Warning: This is a summarized yet long story about what we have really been doing the last four months.

I’m trying to remember when this crazy idea first emerged. At least six months ago, Mark was researching campers in Europe, since we thought/think this will be our new overlanding location. He must have stumbled upon a Mercedes Vario campervan, thought it looked cool and roomy, remembered our German friends Sabine and Michael having one, and focused his research on the 4×4 kind, only to discover that in Europe you need a special driver’s license for this “more truck than van” vehicle, prices wavered around a steep US$100,000, and there are many rules regarding registration, yearly inspections, insurance, and so on.

It seemed like the Vario idea dead-ended right there. But on June 3rd (I checked my diary), an available 4×4 Vario appeared on the South America Overlanding Facebook page. There were only two problems: it was for sale in Peru with Peruvian plates and it was not converted yet. We inquired at a shop in Uruguay — the only place in South America we knew about — about how much it would cost to build out a van. More research followed and from the moment we realized that a vehicle can only leave Peru with its Peruvian owner and that a new build would cost close to US$90,000, the idea was discarded again.

(As always, click on or hover over photos in galleries to read their captions.)

Fast forward to sometime in August when Mark discovered that Chile had imported hundreds of 4WD Vario vans from Europe to use in the mines as passenger transportation vehicles. Another problem arose: these vans had been well used and came with a bus door instead of a passenger door. Replacing that with an RV door would prove almost impossible, let alone dealing with the paperwork, the language, and other crazy logistics.

Soon after, Mark had a revelation. For months, he’d known about a Vario van that had been built out by a Chilean and had been for sale for a couple of years. It was located along the Chilean coast, four hours south of Santiago, but he hadn’t been interested because the camper section was poorly built and unattractive.

His revelation was this: it had a normal door and two seats in the cab, it was already registered as a camper (as opposed to a company vehicle), and becoming the owner of a new vehicle in Chile was straightforward and popular. It’s why many new overlanders buy a car or camper in Santiago to start their South American overland travels. Why not buy this crappy camper, gut it, and rebuild the living space from scratch?

By then, we had found out that there was a company in Santiago — Suzie Santiago CTW — that built out vans for a much better rate — but inferior quality — than the expensive shop in Uruguay. More research and communications followed with companies regarding the build and the paperwork. So many months of work and focus went into this pursuit! It’s pretty much all we did during our five weeks in Paraguay. We even drew up the perfect layout. Fun!

We bombarded the Vario campervan owner in Pichilemu with questions, requested photos, information, and videos, hired a mechanic to check out the engine and systems from afar, and locked in the idea we would buy this van and turn it into our “forever camper.”

This idea became even more attractive and feasible when — by coincidence — we learned about a professional camper building company in Santa Rita, Paraguay and received a quote for what we wanted done. While staying at the Manantial Campground in Hohenau last October, we used just our truck for a day trip to Santa Rita to visit the Dalazen Motorhomes workshop and were seriously impressed. If we ever built out a van on this continent, we wanted to hire them to do so.

Having this plan and the knowledge that Chile is the best country to sell our camper, we left Paraguay a bit sooner than expected. We traversed the width of Argentina as quickly as possible. We scaled the Andes Mountains, crossed the border into Chile, drove another three hours, parked in Santiago, and walked to the Suzie Santiago CTW office to chat with owner Noam about our idea and get answers about needed paperwork all in one day. We were serious and we meant business now that we had returned to Chile!

Next, we visited Noam’s workshop on the edge of the capital, slept at a truck stop south of the city, and drove the four hours to Pichilemu, where “our camper” was located. We had been told the vehicle was in perfect shape, the safety inspection had been a success, and the mechanic we hired had only found a few minor issues. Right.

The highly anticipated Monday arrived; we’d looked forward to checking this van for many months. Maya had to stay in our camper, because the yard where the Vario was parked was filled with eight barking, peeing, and pooping dogs. We should have brought an old sheet for Mark to crawl on the ground. We met the friendly and helpful owners and used translation and audio apps to help with the Spanish language when needed. Mark and I spent a full three hours scrutinizing the van and taking it on a test drive.

What was our conclusion? Let’s just start with these few items: all the known rust spots had been painted over, there was a hole in the transmission casing, the back doors were jury-rigged shut, the passenger seat belt was secured with a carabiner, none of the ventilation and heating systems worked, the dashboard showed multiple warning lights, there was a problem with the ABS system, no maintenance had happened during the four years they owned the van, and everything that broke during those years was either left alone or taped together. The visit was a huge disappointment, because the owner had misrepresented his vehicle. We were ready to back off and forget about this camper altogether.

But then, we realized how much time and effort we’d already put into pursuing this goal and how finding a Vario on this continent would be our only chance at building it the way we wanted. So Mark created a list of all the issues and the costs of resolving them whenever possible.

For anyone interested, this is the list we came up with:

Major Issues:

* Fuel pump is leaking.

* Replace the interior heater core and get the heating system working again.

* Repair all dashboard vent controls. The entire unit will likely need replacing.

* Repair the holes in the transmission housing.

* There may be additional internal clutch problems because the holes allowed dirt and air to enter for over a year.

* Repair the suspension issue that caused the holes in the transmission.

* Needs new springs and shocks. The driver’s side front springs are bent at the ends.

* Repair the ABS system.

* Repair the rear doors so they function properly, seal well, and have a normal handle.

* The differential lock indicator light does not illuminate on the dashboard when the locks are engaged. This indicates a possible problem with the locking system, as it appears the differentials are actually locking.  

* The brakes feel less powerful than expected, quite stiff, and not very responsive. This may be normal, but a complete brake system check is necessary.

* Due to the oil in the air system filter, this indicates that there may be oil in the pneumatic system, which can damage the braking system.

* Remove the new paint and address any rust issues. The freshly applied paint is unreliable, as it was done unprofessionally enough to paint over the rear reflectors.

Minor:

* The oil drain plug needs cleaning and replacement.

* Replace the oil pan gasket.

* Replace the fuel filter and confirm there are no leaks, as it is currently dripping.

* Replace the spare tire.

* Remove and repair the spare tire carrier, as it is not functional.

* Replace the rubber bellows on the pneumatic brake system.

 * Replace interior door handles and window cranks.

* The overall condition of the interior door panels is poor.

* The van needs a front-end alignment as the steering is significantly out of alignment.

* The driver’s door does not close easily and needs the mechanism replaced.

* The passenger door probably does as well, though less severely.

* Maintenance (likely never performed):

* Flush the radiator and refill with fresh coolant.

* Replace all brake fluid.

* Replace the clutch fluid.

* Replace the power steering fluid.

* Clean and replace the air filter.

* Replace the fuel filter.

* Grease all grease fittings.

* Grease the steering kingpin.

* Change the front differential oil.

* Change the rear differential oil.

* Change the transfer case oil.  

* Change the transmission fluid.

* Replace the oil filler hose with the correct one.

* Remove all unused air conditioning system pipes and lines.

* Replace the taillight covers.

* The hood does not close properly. The driver’s side does not close completely.

* The driver’s side lower mirror is missing.

* Install a proper passenger seat belt, as it is currently secured with a carabiner.

* Repair the driver’s seat belt buckle.

* Repair the glove box latch.

* The driver’s seat is in poor condition and needs repair.

* Remove the bolt protruding from the bottom of the rear differential and replace it with the correct drain plug.

* Replace the rubber shift lever boot to prevent dirt from entering the transmission.

We wrote a nice message to the owners, stating all this and offering them a price that would account for fixing the major problems. To give you an idea of the numbers, the asking price for this van was $30,000 and the mechanical fixes would cost about $15,000. That’s without taking the crappy camper build or other adaptations into account. Or paperwork fees and such.

They refused our offer and when asked for their lowest price, they were only willing to drop it by $3,000. And that was the end of a dream. Or so we thought.

There were still a couple of 4WD “passenger bus” Varios floating around in Chile that we knew of, namely a grey one in the Santiago area and a red one over 1,000km to the north. Antofagasta, even further north in Chile, contained a converted 4×4 Vario, but the list price was way too high for us and it was not built out according to our standards.

Ironically — and happily — that day, we also did a video tour of our own camper that is for sale. We were straightforward, transparent, and fair — as opposed to the Vario owners in Pichilemu — which led to an accepted offer for Bella.

After the first disappointment of the badly converted Vario melted away a bit and we got confirmation from “our” camper builder that they could fix a bus door, we checked out the grey Vario. We were committed to exhausting the Vario market in Chile. Again, we were told it was in perfect shape. Again, it wasn’t.

Due to communication and scheduling issues, we had a quick look and drive with the grey one on a Monday and did a more thorough inspection the following day in the yard. They were cleaning the van inside and out, which truly hindered our movements to check out the van. At some point, when Mark was lying underneath, he got drenched. We weren’t impressed with the condition of the van and its issues, but at least this owner seemed honest with us.

There was only one more Vario to pursue: the red one “out of reach.” Our questions were answered over WhatsApp, we did a video tour with the saleswoman, we researched options and issues, checked plane and bus tickets, had another video call when the van was being driven, calculated the price of known problems, contacted professionals to help with the paperwork, ignored the fact that the odometer didn’t work and we had no clue about the mileage (although documents and research revealed the total being under 40,000 which is low), and mentally found ways around other red flags and roadblocks. This idea was crazy, yet we pursued it.

We made an offer and a plan for Mark to take a 12-hour bus ride there and back to check out the van. This would take a substantial amount of money, time, and discomfort. To our surprise, the offer was accepted and reality dawned on us. The procedures and logistics to make this van our own and change it from a passenger van in the mines to a camper to live in and ship to Europe were mind-boggling. We crunched the numbers again.

Were we ready for this gigantic hassle? The huge time and money sink? Doing some of the work in Chile, taking the seats out to fit an air mattress, and driving it back to Paraguay where we’d live in the heat of summer for at least four months? Returning to Chile after the build is done to reregister it as a motorhome. All the hassles of finding parts and the delays that might occur? And the fact we couldn’t sell it outside of Chile except after owning it for twelve years at which point we could import it into the US as a 25-year-old vehicle?

The two of us got cold feet. Many back and forth discussions followed, before we made up our mind about passing on this Vario and any other one on the continent. The red flags screamed at us. Spanish is not one of our native languages and as foreigners, we’d have no rights if anything were to go wrong. After many months of daily research, messages, and talks about our “forever Vario,” we felt empty and exhausted. We truly exhausted our options. Or had we?

Next up: Our monthly expense report for November 2025

Curious about a previous ten-year chapter in our nomadic lives, which includes eight years aboard a 35-foot sailboat in the tropics with dogs? Check out my compelling, inspiring, and refreshingly honest travel memoir: