RIDING ALONG THE COAST IN URUGUAY 2009 

 

Day 1 

"Are you gonna be alone?" asked the girl with the big sad eyes. "Quite probably" I thought "But is it so obvious?" I nodded and her sadness became pity as she showed me to my table for one.  

Buenos Aires is an enormous city of 12 Million but here in the centre at least it’s very European, sophisticated and, traffic aside, surprisingly relaxed; much more so than London or Paris. Although we walked for miles in search of food and tango the only fat people we saw were the beggars. Strange what you notice. 

 

Day 2 

Maybe P&O could learn a few things from the Buquebus ferry with its ultra modern, airport-like terminal and opulent offices only afforded by complete monopoly. But the cleverest trick performed by these catamarans  (eerily reminiscent of huge inflatable Deloreans) during their 60 minute trip over the River Plate from BA to Colonia, is to take you back in time 200 years. Colonia was Portugal’s failed attempt to rival Spain's Buenos Aires. Its failure left it unloved and undeveloped and hence intact as a slice of history and none the worse for that.  

Here Torsten, the mad Swede, and I met up with our friends from last time, Emerson and Benedict; the gay cowboys from New York! Party time! 

 

Day 3 

Four hours to Montevideo and now we are 12. Melinda, blonde beach volleyball champion and the other Californians all as genuinely warm and friendly plus a British/Danish couple and two British women all struggling with characteristic reserve in joining such a loud excitable group. Set against chic BA with its violet jacaranda lined avenues MVD is a poor country cousin, managing only a smattering of worthy plane trees on its tired streets. After the morning deluge the empty city felt a little, well, damp. Somehow though we managed to crash an enormous pre-wedding party which had taken over the old covered market. I don’t regret dancing on the tables with the cross dressed, heavily made up and bearded groom but I might regret the pictures.