I still have the sand of Uruguay in my hair...


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South America » Uruguay
October 27th 2008
Published: October 27th 2008
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So Uruguay this weekend is one of those experiences where there's too much to say, and I know if I try to give an account from beginning to end I'll get hung up on certain parts and I'll never get through. But here goes anyway.

So the first omen of how this trip was to go took place on board the ferry, when the nice lady let me have a cup of coffee for free because she couldn't change the 100 peso bill I had. These types of things make me far happier than I should, but the ample amount of sleep I had gotten the night before and the fact that we were out in a gorgeous sunny morning perched atop the gorgeous ocean-like Rio de la Plata didn't hurt either. After a pleasantly short trip we had arrived in Colonia del Sacramento, the Uruguayan town directly across from Buenos Aires. It's the site of an old Portugese fortification and is filled with all kinds of lovely colonial stuff in general, not to mention many gorgeous trees and flowers, quaint cobblestone streets (that phrase is such a cliché, isn't it?) and lots of coastlines, situated as it is on it's own little peninsula. Tranquility, accessible pretty water, lack of ridiculous traffic (mopeds, rather, seemed to be the preferred mode of transportation), lots of greenery- the place seemed to provide everything that one misses, living in Buenos Aires. And somehow, despite being a "tourist trap," it rarely seemed absurdly so.

So Chelsea and I arrived and had a few hours to kill before meeting our other travelling companions, during which we walked around and took absurdly touristy pictures without feeling shame, had deep conversations while sitting by the water, and enjoyed a pleasant lunch the key ingredient of which was white wine. Our hostel also ended up being very pleasant, and while there we had the opportunity to meet several interesting characters, most of them older guys with british accents who had decided to make low-budget travel their life's work.

So anyway pretty soon our companions arrived, none of whom I had so much as laid eyes on before. Two italians, (Lorenzo and Virginia) two spaniards (Daniel and Carlotta), and the most timid japanese girl I have ever met, Tomoko. The composition of the group meant that spanish was our only common language, and the fact that I felt I was able to use and understand it with surprising facility was part of what made me love these people so much. Also factors, however, were their sort of amusing/interesting manners of speech :Virginia spoke the most italian spanish I have ever heard, which is saying something when one is living in Argentina. She not only spoke with a to me extremely characteristic accent that gave everything she said a delightfully indolent air, but she also ocassionally and amusingly made minor italian word substitutions, such as saying di instead of de. Due to the similarity of the languages, however, it all fit together quite naturally. Listening to the spanish people was interesting because they seemed to speak much more clearly than most of the spanish speakers I've heard (perhaps in the same way that people tell me they can understand british people much more easily than northamericans. They also used the famed lisp and the vosotros form, which I never tired of hearing. But honestly I think they were all just cool and entertaining people that I would have liked no matter their nationalities.

So anyway we wandered around a bit more taking a comical number of group photos. Then in the evening we decided to go to the beach and have a "sunset beer." This was perhaps one of the greatest parts of the whole experience, principally because we went by bicycle, obtained for virtually nothing from the hostels. This was the first satisfying bicycle experience I've had during my study-abroad time (out of three experiences total). We pedaled a couple kilometers up the peninsula along a gorgeous ocean front road full of mopeds of all types, driven by literally all types of people. This I believe being the principle social gathering point for the town's youth, there were also mountains of them, most drinking mate. We found a lovely beach and I of course wasted no time in immersing myself in the river (I've noticed that whenever I travel somewhere and there's an even slightly pleasant-looking body of water, I just HAVE to swim in it). After a good twenty of thirty minutes I joined the others, and as the sun went down we drank beer, ate crackers, and played with some dog. Yes that explanation is deliberately spartan as I'm not sure I have the energy or capability to do verbal justice to the whole thing.

The most interesting part of our very-late dinner was chivito, which is the only really characteristic uruguayan dish I can think of. It's kind of funny actually: it's a stack of proteins essentially: beef, ham, eggs, and cheese, served usually with french fries and a salad. Of course it was good- how could it not be? Also I want to note about this dinner as proof that we didn't drink too much although there were many isolated incidents of alchohol consumption (I blame the europeans) that we had two pitchers of wine and left one almost untouched. We were hoping they would let us not pay for it, but instead the waiter transferred the contents to a coca-cola bottle and let us take it with us.

So the next day I awoke too early as usual despite being in a windowless room. It was okay though, because it gave me a chance to explore the town a little and find a beach which later would prove crucially important. At 11 we set off for montevideo, and on the way saw from the bus a southern uruguay that was utterly green, and that to me seemed quite idyllic. Seriously though, just green the entire way. After a comfortably short few hours we were there, and after feasting on pizza and faina set out to explore a bit. The most notable things we saw were lots of pretty cupolas, this incredible mausoleum to Artigas, their independence hero, which is underneath his statue and consists of his urn guarded by two soldiers in a large gray room with gigantic somewhat totalitarian-appearing legends listing the major events in his liberation of uruguay. Needless to say quite impresionante. We wandered a lot around the utterly deserted cuidad vieja, which was interesting enough although I think most of the tourists head straight from colonia to punta del este, not "wasting" much time there in montevideo. We then enjoyed more quality water time. Montevideo is also on a peninsula of which the old city forms the tip, and from which extends a long jetty that was covered with fishermen and mate-drinkers. Two ocean(more or less)-side sunsets on two successive nights is, I have to note, a rare luxury indeed. We returned by way of the rambla, or water-front walkway, seeing a few thousand more mate-drinkers on the way. The night passed tranquilly enough. After an extremely pleasant dinner which for me consisted of one of the few cheeseburgers I've eaten in my time abroad, we emerged and found that the principle function of the old city is apparently to accomodate the mobs of chattering chicos who emerge to partake of the boliches there.

The following day, luckily enough, was brilliantly sunny, and in the morning after consuming a few dozen medialunas between us we headed to this gigantic street market, which was cool because rather than a lot of lousy tourist stuff it seemed to be a place that served in large part the locals as well, such that the merchandise included not just antiques and trashy souvenirs but also used books and music, appliances, furniture, animals, and food of all types. It took place in a neighborhood of gorgeously crumbling old buildings, and was absolutely packed. In fact, the group was seperated on numerous instances, lastly and definitively when Lorenzo was making "la decision de su vida" in trying to select a mate and Carlotta, Virginia, and I returned after passing a bit of time looking at books to find him and the rest of the group to have disappeared. After walking around for quite a while searching, we were all three of us quite exhausted, hot and thirsty, the remedy for which was a trip to la Rambla, an array of bright blues, greens, and grays absolutely gorgeous in the sunday afternoon sun. So after marvelling at the beauty of it all we lay around on the grass of a lovely waterfront park and took a siesta (before lunch, however, which I didn't even realize was something unusual until Carlotta said so). I also took the time to clamber about a bit on some rocks, undoubtedly a wise choice on my part.

Afterwards, as we had a bus to catch we went to the first restaurant we found, which ended up being a lovely seafood place, where we partook of a mildly decadent but still reasonably priced meal of seafood and, of course, more white wine. Afterwards the waiter, realizing that Virginia was italian, gave us somewhat excessive amounts of limoncello to go with virginia's cafe (which so they tell me is a very typically italian combination). The result of all this was that we left (stumbled out of?) the place utterly satisfied but also kind of late and in quite a hurry to reach the bus station in time. Of course everything worked out perfectly, and Montevideo left me with an unequivocally good impression. Like Buenos Aires, but more tranquil and more watery, is my verdict. Also, based on my limited experience of Uruguay I couldn't help but think of it as a happier place, without many of the problems that plague Argentina. Of course I chided myself for forming this impression, knowing that I had probably not by any means experienced the real Uruguay. But the fact is, at least as wikipedia tells me, that uruguay in general does have fewer problems- that by latin american standards at least, it's relatively democratic, free of corruption, and economically stable- not to mention an extremely rich culture considering its tininess. I don't want to exaggerate this however, as you'll note that I said "by latin american standards." Nevertheless, the place enchants me.

As I'm losing my writing impetus, I'll just end by describing what happened when we got back to colonia. We had an hour before we had to return to the ferry, so we schlepped all our luggage to the beach I had found the previous morning (which already seemed like much further in the past). We then proceeded to watch a third sunset in a row, run around the beach crashing into each and falling down like fools (a proceeding during which I got sand in literally every part of my clothing that could hold it), taking more foolish pictures, feeling great about ourselves and about one another, and finally by "emborrachando al mar" by pouring the coca-cola wine, now barely drinkable, into the river. So that's about it, I would say.



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29th October 2008

Sounds like fun!
Matt, Beautiful writing as usual. I am going to shop for my tickets down there later this week. Love, Dad
3rd November 2008

i think my spanish mom used to make those ridiculous sandwiches...SO MUCH PROTEIN!!!

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