Borders, frustration and fraud

We have had quite a few borders to cross this trip, and it never amazes us how some borders devise procedures that are so inefficient and frustrating. We were getting along pretty well and feeling pretty smug ,, just waiting for a fall.
On the early ferry into Suriname, we had our exit stamp from French Guyana, no problems. A stamp for Surimane and then the question? Can we see your insurance documents, please.  Gareth looks stunned and I produce a wad of papers (in Spanish, and way out of date) and hand them over. Ok mam, and yours sir?
Gareth being a tidy kiwi has thrown all his “out of date” documents away. So we then have to wait for the insurance office to open and then the hour for the form to be filled out. The $20 fee didn’t hurt as much as being passed by the folk on the next ferry two hours later.
The exit from Suriname has the cheapest booze we have seen in the world and was slow but problem free, but a short ferry ride away was Guyana (the old British colony) and they were not so easily fooled by my old documents and asked for more. I had our membership invoices from the NZ Automobile Assn in my papers and they became our much needed papers for insurance. very lucky as it was a week-end and we would have had a two day wait.
Next issue was at the Guyana-Brazil Bonfim, border when Brazil decided we had to go to the local town and get photocopies of most everything. They had a photocopier sitting there and once we returned she copied it all out by hand. Old lady having a bad day, maybe, but this crossing is notorious for delaying travellers.  So different to the other 5 crossings into Brazil we have done. Then we didn’t need the papers that caused so much angst as we didn’t get stamped out. The Brazil side of the crossing out was closed, when we were coming into Venezuela.

Venezuela border crossing again we were sent 20km to town as local insurance “only” would be accepted.  All done we thought ,,,, but a mistake my rego number was on Gareth’s papers and his on mine so back to town to catch the insurance clerk as she locked up for lunch.  Luckily she opened to fix her error, and back to the border for us. Now it was the two hour  lunch break.   So 6 hours and 85 km later, in the awful heat we are legal to ride.

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