Just across the river Pt. 2: Missing the bus and making friends

After a tranquil day in Colonia, I took a bus Friday night to Uruguay's capital, Montevideo, just three hours away.

One of Torres Garcia's colorful creations

While tourists might be just as ubiquitous in this urban city as they were in teeny Colonia, Montevideo is also teeming with plenty of locals who go about their business undeterred by the mobs of travelers.  Aesthetically, the city is something of a mutt: the building tops with their elaborate spirals and textures resemble Gaudi's Barcelona; the uneven sidewalks filled with pedestrians are nearly identical to their Buenos Aires counterparts; and the lackluster beaches (well, the single one I saw) seemed to channel the Spanish island, Mallorca.

The grand Teatro Solis at night

Rather than sunbathe in one of the nearby beaches, I skipped swimming in the silty river in favor of some "culture" time.  In the morning, I sampled some Uruguayan music with a local shopkeeper; at midday I took a tour of the magnificent Teatro Solis; and in the afternoon I browsed the Saturday Flea Market (mate gourd, anyone?) before checking out the gallery of Torres Garcia, one of Uruguay's most acclaimed artists.  The end of my day was delicious— literally.  Following the advice of my Lonely Planet Guidebook, I dined at a swanky cafe with a view of the illuminated Teatro Solis to keep me company as I savored the curry chicken with pineapple.

Jewelry, knick knacks and even mink

Overall, my adventure to Uruguay was a breath of fresh air that I relished.  Traveling solo is always hit or miss, but luckily this trip was a smash.  Even though I missed my bus and boat back to Buenos Aires Sunday afternoon (don't ask), everything worked out in the end.  Uruguyans, whether natives or Argentine expats, are an amicable and chivalrous lot.  One of the friends I made in Montevideo, Pepe, was a 75-year-old bakery owner (and true caballero) who walked me all the way to the bus station, helped me buy my return ticket and then treated me to a coffee.  Another was Susan, who after visiting her siblings in Montevideo, was my travel buddy back to Argentina.

Phantom of the opera? Nah, just the solo traveler

In short, every 90 days my visa expires, and I have to leave Argentina.  It might not be the most convenient arrangement, but it's nice to know that just across the river are some interesting sites to explore and friendly people to meet.

Maybe next time I'll discover how the Uruguyans managed to become even more obsessed with mate than the Argentines.  In all seriousness, is it really necessary to strap the thermos to your back and tote the mate gourd around all day? 

Oh, Uruguay....

Just across the river Pt. I: Cobblestone streets and artists abound

View of the Historic Quarter from the faro (lighthouse)

For those of you who don't know my deep, dark secret, here it goes: I am an illegal alien working in a foreign country.  Although I am an esteemed (sorta) professora del ingles in Buenos Aires, I have no work permit.  Because the process of obtaining any sort of special visa— be it student or other— is so complicated, most ESL teachers have a basic tourist visa.  Every three months my passport turns into a pumpkin, and I have to flee to another country before the stroke of 90 days to avoid a hefty a fine.

Old-school bugs all around the city

Given these circumstances, my recent trip to Uruguay was not just for pleasure but also out of necessity.  Early Friday morning, I set sail on the barco rápido (fast boat) and within an hour, I had crossed the River Plate and arrived in Colonia, Uruguay.  Colonia del Sacramento is a small, historic city that was originally founded by the Portuguese in the 17th century, but then bounced back and forth between Portuguese and Spanish control.  Today, it is the lone World Heritage Site in Uruguay.

Initially, I was skeptical about spending the entire day in Colonia.  Some friends had warned me that the city was too small to warrant more than a three-hour tour, while others had told me that it deserved a full-day visit.  I agree with the latter.

My birthday is famous in Uruguay

Colonia might night have a slew of attractions— its collection of Lilliputian-sized museums can be toured in under an hour— but the charming Historic Quarter with its cobblestone streets and confection of colonial buildings are too lovely to rush through.  Reminiscent of Europe in both its pace and number of tourists, I spent most of the day wandering the old streets, snapping pictures and chatting with locals.  Many of the people I met were originally from Buenos Aires but preferred the more tranquilo life in Colonia.  Luis the artist, was one such Argentine-turned-Uruguayan.  Although Cuba was the country nearest and dearest to his heart, he had also lived in Britain for a few a years and as a result spoke a crisp British English, tossing words like idiosyncratic into our conversations.  Coincidentally Luis and I have the same birthday, October 8, which is also the name of an adorable street in Colonia.

Becoming one with the giant swirl

In addition to Luis, I met Paul the fisherman/wire artist (he made me a flower bookmark), an oddball actor/musician/artist and a charismatic waiter who is probably also some sort of artist in his spare time.  Apparently Colonia is not just home to some of the friendliest people this side of the hemisphere, it's also a burgeoning art community.  And after savoring its colonial quarters, colorful gardens and eclectic cafes, I couldn't help but feel inspired myself.