The check in for our boat journey from Buenos Aires is more like an airline operation and the journey is only three hours. We arrive in the huge port of Montevideo in the early evening. After a wander round the nearby streets Paul finds an office to change our remaining Argentinian pesos for Uruguayan, and this time we lost on the deal due to the poor state of the Argentinian currency. The city has a good feel early evening and our hotel is very close to the centre of town. This is Plaza Independencia, our main walking route to the bars, restaurants and old town sights.
We walk to the market near the port, which is stuffed full of parillas (steak houses), and start to feel very hungry.
We recognise very little of the Spanish language on the menus but each finally decide on a chivito, which is basically a huge steak sandwich with roasted vegetables and slathered with cheese and bacon, yum! Oh, yes and some healthy greens down the bottom somewhere. Still, at least we didn’t have chips with it (this time, anyway).
We’re close to the Atlantic, but not quite there yet, officially still in the estuary of the Rio Plata. Still, Montevideo does have some nice beaches, the weather is warm and sunny and we walk a few kilometres along the beautiful Rambla, the promenade, which runs around a lot of the city.
And Diane can’t resist a paddle, as ever.
After a couple of days, we bus it about four hours up the east coast to the seaside town of La Paloma. According to the Lonely Planet it’s a surfer’s dream, but we have no inclination to venture into the cold Atlantic Ocean in winter. We had been warned that the place will be quiet out of season and book into a really nice hotel (for a change), only a few steps from the sea and the one tourist attraction in town – a working lighthouse.
We’re lucky that the weather is warm and sunny, though a tad windy, and we spend two days walking on the empty beaches, watching the birds and marine life. We see a Southern Right whale, a basking shark, seals, a Magellanic penguin (dead unfortunately and a little way off course) and other unidentifiable swimming mammals. Where is everyone? This is heaven.
Here’s Paul, sitting in the lifeguard hut out of the wind and very happy as he has a map.
Finally, we find out that this chattery and distinctive wading bird is the Southern Lapwing and that the Uruguayan national rugby team has made it their mascot. Although they are wading birds, they lay their eggs on the ground – in this case right on the main path – just as well there are hardly any people around.
We are sorry to leave this sleepy place, but it’s time for another bus – to our final country, and number 15 of the trip. Brazil here we come, hope it’s just a teeny bit warmer.
Diane, this fall (here) I’m taking a seminar on Latin American history … so I’ll be wanting to pick your brains about all the things you saw and learned that didn’t make it into the blog!
It’s been a fabulous travelogue for me.
Elisa