Coastin' Along

Well, in fact we ended up watching lucky number 13 sunsets in a row, our streak ending in La Paloma, Uruguay.  The small beach town was humble and simple, with attractions including a lighthouse, a large sundial, a whale skeleton, a very small fair, and long sandy, clam littered beaches.   Our Balconada Beach Hostel was 1 row of houses/restaurants behind the beach right on the sand, and we had a good time chatting with the staff about the intricacies and love of drinking mate.  FYI, the brand Baldo made in Brazil is the best yerba to buy, as it contains more leaves and fewer stems than their Argentine counterparts.  Also worthy of note: bring plenty of cash here, as the ATMs seem to be always out of money. 

So true…when I was trying to think back to La Paloma all I could think of was sunsets, beaches and ATMs.  I’m pretty sure I tried all three ATMs about five times each over the few days we were in town.  I had good reason to be persistent; our next two stops were Cabo Polonio and Punta del Diablo…both absent of ATMs.  In the end Juan had better luck than I did with the machines and he became my sugar daddy for the next week or so.  We left after 3 nights and headed towards remote Cabo Polonio, home to the second largest colony of South American sea lions. 

This little town of 68 permanent residents and 72 dogs (according to our guide book) is remote and rustic.  There is no running water and no electricity - save for the lighthouse, which has the only flush toilet and is the only building hooked up to the grid.  Once we arrived at the entrance to the town we had to take 4x4 trucks into town.  There is only one way in and out of the town, since the land (read: sand dunes) is protected and part of a national park.  These 4x4s are also probably the only vehicles that could drive the terrain we found ourselves in.  We had no accommodations arranged when we arrived and ended up searching for a while in the fierce winds coming off the ocean.  In the end though we found ourselves a quaint little cabin complete with a well and fireplace. 

Our little cabana

If you’ve ever been to the Festival Campground at Folk Festival, picture this town as its permanent settlement.  Maybe it’s the peace signs, the flags, the brightly coloured homes and restaurants, the candlelights, the hippies, no cars, or quiet star lit nights.  Whatever it was, this place somehow felt like home to us and we found ourselves daydreaming of how we could possibly make a living here.  The oceans on either side of the peninsula were beautiful and great for windsurfing or getting pounded by the waves, and as Kelly mentioned also attracted some sea life.  We saw sea lions and dolphins, but later around October whale sightings and even penguins aren’t uncommon, as a local restaurant owner can attest to having entertained his clients with a pet penguin he saved after a storm one year.

The best thing about Cabo Polonio was having such tranquility and the privacy of our own little place to cook our own meals and play cards by candlelight.  After moving from hostel to hostel a little place of our own for a couple nights felt like heaven.  We were quite fortunate to arrive the last weekend of the season before things began closing up.  You know that feeling you get Sunday night of Folk Fest when most people are leaving but you decide to stay Sunday night and head back into town Monday?  That’s what it felt like.  Sunday was pretty quiet but some things were still happening, but when we headed out Monday morning we were leaving with the people that run the place.   It was an odd feeling made even weirder by the fact that we didn’t realize there was a time change and woke up at 5:30am to catch our 7:50am truck!   Needless to say we were waiting around for quite some time before the town woke up and the 4x4 truck arrived to take us out of town. 

Punta del Diablo was our last beach stop before heading back into the interior.  We had heard that this is not the place to escape the crowds.  With around 600 year-round residents it explodes up to about 30,000 beach hungry tourists!  Luckily their summer holidays had just passed, and the sandy streets and ocean-view shops were just tranquil enough for us Winnipeg folk.  We enjoyed our last taste of fresh-caught seafood for a while with paella and Lenguado fish fillets, but also took the time to make some home-cooked pasta and stir-fry meals out of our fully equipped mini-apartment at Casa de las Boyas hostel.  I attempted to surf again, but the surf-shop clerk must’ve thought I was a little more advanced with my lean muscular look and surf lingo that he gave me a much smaller and lighter board than I could handle, so after hours of frustrated attempts, I didn’t even stand up once.   I worked on my tan though I guess.  We said goodbye to Uruguay’s beautiful sandy beaches and ocean sunsets and headed into the big city, Montevideo.

No Parking Zone

Devil's Point

This is not Juan!

We had been cruising down the coast of Uruguay for weeks, jumping from one small beach town to another.  It was tempting to skip Montevideo altogether just so we wouldn’t taint the ocean breezes still fresh in our lungs with the air and noise pollution of the city.  But Montevideo proved to be worth spending some time and in the end we spent three days visiting the Mercado del Puerto for tasty parrillas, the Ciudad Vieja (old city) for its markets, cobble stone streets and bars, and the eastern river beaches for one last walk in the sand.  I don’t know how to even describe the Mercado del Puerto…basically it’s a huge warehouse near the port that houses dozens of competing parrilla restaurants, each with roaring fires, cooks, and waiters taking orders from customers who have the choice of cozying up to the counter for a close view of the parrilla or table seating throughout the market.  It reminded me of Vancouver's Granville Island’s food market only the kiosks of fresh veggies, cheeses, meats and crafts were all parrilla grills.  It was packed and hot and delicious.  Hopefully the pics can do this place justice, because it was a one of a kind experience.  

The night we got in was St. Patrick’s Day, and we wasted no time finding an Irish pub (Shannon’s Irish Pub nonetheless) to bring us back home for a few pints.  Kelly and I were both pleasantly surprised that as the night progressed the street got packed full of beer and Jameson-loving partiers, most dressed in green, and plenty with shiny green wigs and party hats.  That night I became famous when I was interviewed by a local TV station getting in on the action.  “Yes, we do celebrate St. Patty’s Day in Canada... We’re only on drink number 4, but we’ll be going hard ‘till 2am, at least.”  2am is actually usually this culture’s starting time to party and a total lie on my part as we went home soon after, exhausted from our day traveling.

Montevideo, for being the country’s capital city, is unusually charming and slow-paced with its pleasant colonial flare mixed in with leafy streets and large plazas.  We took some time to enjoy their jail-house turned up-scale shopping mall, and the main art gallery where we liked paintings by Leonilda Gonzales and Juan Manuel Blanes to mention a couple.  We also did our part and bought a small lock, engraved our names on it, and locked it around this fountain.  Legend goes that if you do this, you will one day return together to this very place. 

So it’s now time to say good-bye to Uruguay and head back to Argentina.  Juan and I arrived thinking that we’d be here for a week, but stayed three.  Uruguay surprised us both with its beauty and charm.  Great beaches that seem to stretch forever.  Friendly relaxed people who sure know how to throw a party…Carnaval was amazing!  An appreciation and dedication to the art of mate drinking that was both intriguing and educational.  And of course fine wine.  I have developed a serious love affair with their variety of wine – Tannat.  If you haven’t tried Tannat, please do.  It’s a great full-bodied wine that I personally had no idea Uruguay was so famous for.  Juan and I went through many a bottle of Pueblo del Sol, great for it’s taste and price. 

We’re now on our way to Salta, Argentina where I hope to get my hands on some artisanal goat cheese that I hear the area is known for.  It's been a while since I've had cheese, I’ll let you know what I find!

Cheers,

Kelly and Juan