Road to Colonia (Uruguay)
The route from Montevideo to Colonia surprises us by the multitude of classics that we can find next to the highway, a dream for any classic car enthusiast.
The beach of Pocitos in Montevideo is a wonderful place to walk or do sports. In July, when the breeze that comes from Rio de la Plata covers the horizon with humidity, running downstream makes you forget that it is winter and allows you to start the day full of energy.
It was my last day in Uruguay, I had a whole Saturday ahead in a country that every classic car enthusiast has heard of fantastic stories of exclusive cars that have appeared in a haystack or how easy it is to find a thirties relic still rolling down the roads.
Some days before, on arrival in the country, in a flea market next to the hotel I found the first classics, vans loaded with fruit, and even a bus reconverted in vending truck. I'd never seen such a bus. Later I learned that it was a Leyland Olympic, a model that was manufactured in Great Britain and South Africa between 1949 and 1971. In Montevideo it became a true icon. The unit seen at the market appears to have arrived in 1962/63 in a consignment of 81 units of the EL-44-3 version. Some of them were in public service until 2001. But not all retired, more than fifty years old this one still deploys its wide assortment of provisions through the streets of the city every day.
The previous weekend I had been in the Entre Rios region of Argentina, visiting one of those dreamy "desarmaderos" (scrapyards) where trees grow through the rusted Ford Ts’ remains, so expectations were high. No one could tell me where I could find such a place in Uruguay, but they assured me that if I went by the road I would find some "cachilas", which is how old cars are known there. In the morning, after enjoying the breeze running on the beach, I took a bus to the centre to pick up the Clio I had rented on the internet the night before. I decided to go to Colonia, a beautiful port city founded by the Portuguese that still preserves its defensive fortress and a charming historical centre. I did not know was that I wouldn't arrive to Colonia before the sunset, the continuous stops made a journey of just 180 km last all day.
I had not yet left the port of Montevideo when the silhouette of some boats rusting away between the horizon and its own reflection caught my attention. The scene had a point between romantic and decadent that I could not stop portraying.
A little later I made the first stop. From far away I thought I saw an old Opel. I dared to enter the small farm. The owner had never rid of any of his old cars, so he had accumulated them around the house.
He had a preference for the Opel Rekord, the oldest one was a P2, but there were also 2 Rekord C 6 cylinders and even a Chevrolet Opala, the Brazilian version of the same C, with engine and look of Chevrolet Impala, in any case his favourite one was a Hanomag-Henschel van.
The next surprise had nothing to do with the cars of the past, but of the future. Near Montevideo there is a Lifan’s assembly plant. Lifan is one of the smallest Chinese manufacturers, but one of the most active internationally. The factory was surrounded by half-scraped car bodies and piles of parts scattered everywhere.
It had not been ten minutes since I left Lifan when another half-dozen classics appeared in the garden of another house, including a Mercedes Ponton, a Studebaker truck, and a weird red creature I could not recognize (later on I knew it was an Uruguayan built NSU P10).
Shortly afterwards a pile of skeletons of Renault 4CV interrupted again the trip to Colonia. When I approached the barking of the dogs made Hugo, its owner, show up. He explained that this was what was left of the four donors that had been used to restore a single copy of 4-4 or “cuatro – cuatro”, how the Renault 4CV is known in Spain. Hugo was proud to show me the Studebaker of his dreams. It was hidden in a wooden shed waiting for restoration. Next to the 4-4 he had a Chevrolet Royal Canadian.
He began by explaining the differences between that version made in Canada and the US ones. Hugo turned out to be a human classic car’s encyclopaedia. I’ve met few people with an automotive culture like his; I spent a fantastic time listening to incredible stories of unique cars that had spent more than half a century hidden in abandoned barns. He spoke with great sorrow of all those cases in which old gems had gone from oblivion to being destroyed by ignorant hands; Of others like that of a De Dion-Bouton of the early twentieth century that had been saved thanks to a South African collector who knew in time of its existence; Of how not more than twenty years before he resigned to buy a Ford A with less than 4000 km, for not being able to afford it, to see how an acquaintance destroyed it using it daily and replacing broken parts with others from modern cars; Of how not so long ago the Messerschmitt, those microcars produced in the postwar period by an aircraft manufacturer, were piled up in junkyards. With particular sadness he remembered how a pre-war BMW 328, which had appeared intact after decades of dust accumulating in a warehouse, was cut off to make it a pickup truck.
After listening open mouthed to Hugo's memories, I continued the route to Colonia. As I was going from a surprise after another it did not shock me to discover a true classic car museum a few kilometres later. Unfortunately it was closed and I could not photograph the some thirty cars, almost all American from thirties to fifties, that could be seen from the windows. I took a break to have lunch in a roadside restaurant in front of the museum. As it was late, I could only be served an emergency Milanesa, which is how they call the huge steaks of breaded meat accompanied by French fries in Uruguay and Argentina. Although I waited a long time, the person in charge of the museum did not return, so I had to leave the visit until an upcoming trip, anyway I did not lack classics to see on the side of the road.
It was starting to get dark but I did not resist making one last stop. The silhouette of a strange Renault 4 struck me. I’d seen before another one like this but I could not take a picture as I was running along the beach. This one was in a worse state, but I could not resist portraying that Uruguayan endemism. It seems that, due to tariffs, in the late sixties the Renault 4 started to be imported knocked down from the Argentinean plant in Cordoba.
The mechanics came complete from Argentina and the assembly was completed with locally made parts, so rear end was redesigned, giving rise to this curious two-door version with separate boot, the Renault Mini 4S. It seems that until the mid-seventies different variants were made, including a pick-up. The one I portrayed was still working, unlike most of the other classics that were piling up on that plot. Among them were a pair of Hillman Minx, a Chevrolet Impala pick-up, a Fiat 850 and even a thirties Chevrolet truck.
The tour left me with unforgettable memories, Colonia has not lost the charm of other times, the beauty of the sunset in front of the Rio de la Plata made me forget that I still had to go back to Montevideo. Once the last boat has departed to Buenos Aires the city remains peaceful, the few tourists sitting at the terraces enjoy a quietness that evokes the colonial past, doubtless it is a city that is worth visiting.
