The largest logistical hurdle of our Pan-American journey has been completed! It was (unsurprisingly) extremely nerve-wracking to load our home into a shipping container and trust that we would see it again a week later. Not to mention all of the bureaucratic paperwork needed to complete the process. Plus, even after the van was taken care of, we still needed to get ourselves – and Arya! – across the border. While the entire journey was not without flaws, things largely went as expected; patience was the defining virtue of our two weeks. Best of all, we made some incredible friends along the way, connections that made the stress more than worth it!
Not ones for idle time, we jumped straight into the shipping process by showing up in Panama City less than twelve hours before we needed to start the paperwork for our van. In what would become a common theme, we were grateful to our container buddies – S and P from Switzerland (@toyo.bien on Insta!) – for helping us find a parking spot next to them at such a late hour. The next morning, the two cars drove over to the police station to receive the first of many pieces of paper that would need to be kept track of and passed along to the next department in line. Other than an extremely confusing route just to cross the highway (it took us 15 minutes after we made a wrong turn on a cloverleaf), we successfully passed along the initial inspection paper to the next secretary and received the official document granting us permission to ship our car out of the country a few hours later. While we waited the whole day for our final papers (patience), we enjoyed the AC and food court of the nearby dog-friendly mall.
One step done, next, we drove across the city to meet up with The Overland Embassy, the company that helped organize the shipping by arranging the necessary port agents and giving (mostly) clear instructions that made the entire process more straightforward. At their campground, we were able to prep our car for shipping by packing up many of our items, finishing our perishable food, and, most importantly, determining how we were going to fit the car into the container. We knew that, with our high roof, solar panels, and roof fan, our van was slightly taller than the entrance of a standard 40-ft shipping container. Using a laser level, Overland Embassy proved that if we took enough air out of our massive tires and removed the roof fan, we could fit the van without needing to remove the solar panels. This confirmed our own measurements and research, but was still a relief to hear the experts assure us this was a fairly common procedure for folks in our situation. Roof fan removed, food all eaten, and our necessary belongings packed, we set our alarms for 4 to make the early morning drive up to the port of Colón, where we would say goodbye to the Stinkbug for the week…
And we almost missed our time! We later learned that everyone else in the campground heard our alarms except us; they assumed that we must have been getting ready inside the van. All of the long days, stressful paperwork, and the early hour had finally caught up with us. A little after 4:30, Vrinda bolted upright, and we got to scrambling to finish our final packing. Thankfully, with a home on wheels, it’s possible (although not recommended) to do this while driving, and we got to our meetup spot with ten minutes to spare. After months of worrying about the fit of our van, the loading process itself was quite straightforward, taking less than 15 minutes from the time the camper started to roll onto the truck to parking it inside the shipping container. As we had practiced, we needed to remove quite a bit of air from our tires (down to 10 PSI), but the car fit snugly inside the container afterwards and was secured by the port workers. We were a little emotional as the container doors closed, saying goodbye to the home that had served us so faithfully over the previous seven and a half months. (V’s note: this is a little cheesy; I think we were just relieved we had done it!)
Our car gone, we got our ride back to Panama City and needed to turn right around and complete the process for getting ourselves to Colombia! It had been recommended not to book flights until the van was loaded in case there were delays; easy enough for people, but a little more work when traveling with a dog. Thankfully, several airlines allow emotional support animals on trips to Colombia. The only caveat was that we needed to purchase an additional seat for Arya because she exceeded the weight requirements to qualify as a lap dog (although she will tell you otherwise). Tickets booked, we found a cheap hotel near the historical peninsula to finally get some rest (and showers!) after completing the first half of our shipping journey. The next two days were pretty uneventful by comparison (patience), finishing the last paperwork to export Arya and walking around the historical center —- mediocre at best, but we did enjoy a meal with our container buddies. By far the majority of our time was spent resting, showering, and watching the World Cup in the AC of our room.
Airline rules required us to take the first flight of the day with the dog. With a potentially longer check-in process as well, we arrived at the airport a little after 4:30. (We made sure to set multiple alarms this time!) At that hour, the airport was largely empty. A little grumbly because we could have slept in a little longer, we made the most of the space to get some additional training in with Arya so she might be on her best behavior that morning. 40 minutes later, we were beginning to get a bit nervous that no agents had arrived to help us check in yet, as our flight was now only two hours away. We soon learned that we needed to check in at the other terminal, and then return to this one for our flight! We jumped on the next bus, arriving to find the other terminal horrifyingly busy. Patience. Following an anxious wait in line, we were eventually checked in with no problems and just enough time to trek back to the first terminal where we would catch our flight, extra grateful that our early arrival prevented more stress for time. The flight to Colombia was short, and Arya received many approving looks from the other passengers and crew (although she was sad that she wasn’t allowed on the seats).
Our first stop in South America was Cartagena, the port city where our van would arrive in several days. As with Panama City, the heat restricted exploration of the area during the day, but we made full use of the kitchen in our Airbnb and enjoyed early morning and nighttime walks around the neighborhood. By far the highlight of our stay in the city came on our second night when, while I was taking the dog out for a “quick” nighttime bathroom break, I was accosted by a quick-talking and energetic dog walker. Registering my confusion, she (M) quickly switched to English, eager to hear about what brought us to Cartagena and to give suggestions for our stay there. An hour later, we had walked nearly the entire neighborhood; we learned we had been neighbors in North Carolina before the pandemic (she was completing a Master’s at Duke while we started our graduate program at NC State), we both liked good vegetarian food, dogs, and travel, and that M knew folks just about everywhere, including a quantum physicist in the States. Arriving home, Vrinda let me know how concerned she was that I had been gone for so long until I informed her that I had just met her best friend in Colombia, knowing the two of them would hit it off. Sure enough, on a dog walk two days later, we (this time with Vrinda) spent another two hours getting the “official/unofficial” tour of the neighborhood, complete with an introduction to Colombian street food.
Our days in Cartagena quickly developed a familiar routine. We would explore the city – in particular the beautiful old town – early in the morning before the heat set in and we returned to the apartment. Once the car arrived, I often had to be near my phone to complete the necessary paperwork step for that day: getting a temporary import permit, the appropriate insurance, notarizing port paperwork, entering the port, etc. Each process usually only took a couple of hours, but, due to bureaucracy and port rules, had to be completed sequentially and never on the same day… Patience. Once the temperature cooled again in the evenings, we would venture out again, eating at several good restaurants and joining S & P to take in the first Colombian World Cup match against Uzbekistan. Each time Colombia scored, bars up and down the street could be heard going wild, a pretty special experience for any soccer fan. Little did we know then that we saw over half the goals Colombia would score the entire tournament…
Finally, the day came to drive our car out of the container. Only one person was allowed per car in port, so V waited at home with the dog while I went with the other overlanders shipping their car that week. We were given all of the necessary safety gear to enter port and then walked to the containers where our camper vans were waiting for us. The doors finally swung open, revealing our van looking no worse for wear.
Only, when it came time to drive it out, the Stinkbug wouldn’t start!! I had a jumper box, but that didn’t work. Neither did an even stronger jumper battery provided by another overlander. Eventually, because the port was on a tight schedule and S still needed to get her car out of the container, we resolved to push it out; no easy feat with severely deflated tires… (I felt bad because I probably had the easiest job behind the wheel.) With the car out, we continued to try to troubleshoot the issue but could not find the culprit; all of the basic multimeter measurements indicated a healthy battery. Needing to get the car to a designated parking spot in the port, the port workers and other overlanders again began to push, at which point I was finally able to get the engine to turn over. For anyone thinking I got off easy though, don’t worry: as soon as I went to put the car in reverse to finish parking it, the motor died again, and it was left to only me and one sorry port worker to shove it into the right spot. Meanwhile, poor Vrinda was in the apartment only receiving sporadic and extremely negative updates about her car not working from S and me, as we were also busy trying to get everything to work on the port schedule. Extra extra patience! Not an ideal way to start our time in South America.
The next two days were filled with uncertainty. There was very little we could do though; port rules prohibited us from returning to our car while the final permissions trickled their way through the necessary bureaucratic backwaters. And when I was finally going to be allowed to enter, I would be without Vrinda and on the port’s schedule again. Meanwhile, we were also supposed to check out of our Airbnb that morning, but we were now unsure if we would have a home to move back into! Patience. All we could do was brainstorm quick car fixes and several contingency plans depending on how the Stinkbug behaved that morning. We were extremely grateful for both our container buddies and M for offering ideas, support, and local mechanics should they be needed, giving us some needed peace of mind that we weren’t totally alone if our home got stuck!
Eventually, the morning of truth arrived. S and I went to port; Vrinda and P stayed at the apartment packing and waiting for us to (hopefully) return. At port, we again waited for the proper escort to the vehicles; each minute one more where the fate of the car remained in limbo (there’s a Schrödinger joke in there somewhere). Patience. After being walked to the vehicles, I immediately got to work cleaning the battery terminals; the easiest and most likely culprit of our stalled van. As I was wrapping up this project, the port mechanic arrived and told me that I wasn’t authorized to perform vehicle maintenance of any kind while at port (we had been told differently before arriving…). Not wanting to pay what would surely be an exorbitant fee just for him to reattach the lug nuts, I stalled just long enough to complete the task myself, hoping against all hope that the cleaning would be enough to get the Stinkbug out of port.
And to everyone’s immense relief, it was!!! The mechanic could only take his multimeter and confirm the health of our battery (something we had already done) before it was time for us to drive away. With the battery now able to fully power the car, the Stinkbug hit the road without a problem. I hurried back to the apartment, where V and I rushed to finish loading the car before spending the rest of the day completing errands. Spent after a couple of stressful days, we were infinitely grateful to M for letting us crash at her place for the night. One night then turned into two, as the following day was Election Day and we were hesitant to test the roads during what could have been a tense time. I spent the morning reassembling our roof fan – unwittingly next to a polling station, which earned me a lot of odd looks from the early voters – and we then relaxed in the afternoon, eventually ordering pizza to comfort us after the right-wing candidate (who models himself after figures like Bukele and Trump) narrowly won. Monday morning eventually rolled around and with it, time to say goodbye to our quick and dear friend and get reacquainted with both the perks and the downsides of van life. In the end, we wouldn’t have had it any other way! Hello South America!