This is a genuine description of what it has been like to try to send clothes home from Uruguay.
We are on to the warm-weather part of the trip now, so we decided it was time to post home some of our heavy load and make way for a few extras we might buy along the way. With two carrier bags of stuff ready, Nicki went to the Post Office.
The first post office said she could not send them from there, so she went to another one. There, she was informed that because we were sending used clothes, we had to get a certificate in Montevideo (the capital) to be able to send them.
So we went to the main post office at Montevideo the next day -unfortunately they were closing so yet another day later, we went to the address Nicki had been given.
When we arrived and explained in Nicki's best Spanish what we needed, a man explained that we had to get our clothes checked before we could send them. He took us to a back-office with a group of guys hanging around in blue work-clothes, clearly part of the Uruguayan civil-service (they seemed to be hanging around doing nothing most of the time). Eduardo was introduced to us, and he sullenly sorted through our clothes and noted each item as their friendly dog nibbled away at my toes. He weighed the clothes and took us to another part of the block.
There, he opened a door, laid the clothes out and explained that he was going to fumigate them. Nicki looked a little perturbed by this and asked if they would smell bad (her sense of smell is like Jip in Doctor Dolittle). He re-assured us not, sent us back to the first man, and he walked us to another office.
He explained that we needed to pay 65 Pesos (2 Euros) to have a document to be able to send the clothes. We paid it and returned to the office. Our friendly man sent us to Eduardo who met us with a smile as the dog took a couple of bites at my leg this time. I found it hilarious that a place that seemed to have been designated to sanitise clothing for export had a street-dog wandering around and spreading whatever germs he had on him.
Eduardo opened the fumigation room and then put on a gas-mask (really). He entered the room, bagged up our stuff and carried it back to his little office. He stamped each of our documents and said "nada mas" - nothing more to do. Wow! After a number of hours, many offices, various payments and forms and about a dozen people being involved, we were ready to send our clothes back! All we had to do was go to the post
office and send them. We were assured we could send them from any post office with this important documentation
This morning, I went round the corner to the very helpful ladies in Punta Del Este. I explained that we had these documents and could we send the package from here. Amazingly, she said "why do you need those documents? I didn't know about that..."
I forced a smile, paid the 1000 pesos (35 Euros) to send them home, walked away and hoped like hell the damn things would get there!
We are on to the warm-weather part of the trip now, so we decided it was time to post home some of our heavy load and make way for a few extras we might buy along the way. With two carrier bags of stuff ready, Nicki went to the Post Office.
The first post office said she could not send them from there, so she went to another one. There, she was informed that because we were sending used clothes, we had to get a certificate in Montevideo (the capital) to be able to send them.
So we went to the main post office at Montevideo the next day -unfortunately they were closing so yet another day later, we went to the address Nicki had been given.
When we arrived and explained in Nicki's best Spanish what we needed, a man explained that we had to get our clothes checked before we could send them. He took us to a back-office with a group of guys hanging around in blue work-clothes, clearly part of the Uruguayan civil-service (they seemed to be hanging around doing nothing most of the time). Eduardo was introduced to us, and he sullenly sorted through our clothes and noted each item as their friendly dog nibbled away at my toes. He weighed the clothes and took us to another part of the block.
There, he opened a door, laid the clothes out and explained that he was going to fumigate them. Nicki looked a little perturbed by this and asked if they would smell bad (her sense of smell is like Jip in Doctor Dolittle). He re-assured us not, sent us back to the first man, and he walked us to another office.
He explained that we needed to pay 65 Pesos (2 Euros) to have a document to be able to send the clothes. We paid it and returned to the office. Our friendly man sent us to Eduardo who met us with a smile as the dog took a couple of bites at my leg this time. I found it hilarious that a place that seemed to have been designated to sanitise clothing for export had a street-dog wandering around and spreading whatever germs he had on him.
Eduardo opened the fumigation room and then put on a gas-mask (really). He entered the room, bagged up our stuff and carried it back to his little office. He stamped each of our documents and said "nada mas" - nothing more to do. Wow! After a number of hours, many offices, various payments and forms and about a dozen people being involved, we were ready to send our clothes back! All we had to do was go to the post
office and send them. We were assured we could send them from any post office with this important documentationThis morning, I went round the corner to the very helpful ladies in Punta Del Este. I explained that we had these documents and could we send the package from here. Amazingly, she said "why do you need those documents? I didn't know about that..."
I forced a smile, paid the 1000 pesos (35 Euros) to send them home, walked away and hoped like hell the damn things would get there!
