Uruguay was in my original plans. But when I came out of Bolivia behind schedule, I decided to skip it. Great, I thought, because that meant I could spend more time in northern Argentina. Which I did.

Then I heard great things from other people about the beaches in Uruguay. And now let us remember that at the time I was in Argentina, it had been 2 months since I’d seen the ocean. So I was missing it a tremendous amount. And then I also started realising that I would be facing an epic (and expensive) bus journey from BA to Iguazu the way my plans were turning out and I wasn’t sure I was totally up for that. And lastly, it crossed my mind that if I didn’t go to Uruguay on this trip, I’d probably never go and that would probably annoy me every time I’ll be colouring in a map of where I’ve been in the world (hah! I made that sound like it’s a regular activity. Which isn’t exactly the case. I did it before I went travelling and it depressed me that I’d seen so little of the world so I’ll probably be doing it again when I get home to cheer myself up. So really it’s probably once that it’d annoy me). But as a result, Uruguay made a late-in-day return to my itinerary.

So I did what I thought was the most time-efficient thing to do which was to book the Boquebus boat from BA to Colonia departing at midnight on Friday night. I’d had 5 days in BA at that point and was ready to leave the big city lights and all its European-ness behind.

It’s a 3 hour boat ride to Colonia from BA (on the slow boat) but Uruguay is an hour ahead so I actually arrived at 4. That’s still way earlier than anything is open anywhere so I had a few hours to attempt to plan the best way to cover Colonia, Montevideo and the Uruguayan coast in about 1 week before it was light outside. Then I headed across the street to the bus terminal and set that plan in motion by booking a late afternoon bus to Montevideo. That gave me a whole day in Colonia which is tiny so I figured that was sufficient time. And it actually was just fine. I walked through the town in the blazing hot morning sunshine, took photos of the pretty colonial buildings, chilled with a coffee at the waterfront and sat on the mini-beach next to the docks and read for a while. It would have been nice to spend a night there but my transit plans didn’t allow for that.

I got to Montevideo at 8pm and immediately learned that Santa Claus doesn’t live on the north pole! He lives at the bus terminal in Montevideo, Uruguay! He was just chilling by the massive Christmas tree so I let him be and went to find transport into town. But the queues for the local buses were so long (that’s right though, they queue for the buses here. They did in BA too, I was so confused. It’s organised queuing like Canary Wharf tube station at rush hour) so I figured it would take just as much time to wait for a bus and try to get on with my backpack than to walk it. So I walked. And it was hot. And pretty far. Not a smart plan. The first hostel I went to managed to check me in before realising they were out of beds so I got sent back out with directions to another one – which was also full. Then I tried one from the Lonely Planet – also full. They gave me directions to another one which had 1 bed left. At that point I just wanted to put my bag down somewhere and have a shower, even if it was the most expensive dorm bed I’ve had so far – US$20. The hostel was fine but not worth that much but all things pointed to this town being booked up for the weekend so I didn’t feel like I had much choice at that point.

It wasn’t a very social hostel though and after all that walking around I needed a drink. Thankfully, it’s ok to interrupt people sitting absorbed by their smartphones if your question is related to wifi functionality. And my iPod wouldn’t connect so before I knew it, I had roped a French guy into coming for a drink. We figured there’d be loads of busy places, given that it was nearly 11 and a Saturday. But Montevideo is a random city and we ended up at an Irish bar which was the only one with any people in it in a 20 min. radius. I mistakenly decided to go for a cocktail rather than a beer and it was the worst margarita I have ever had. And that is my only point of that story: don’t order a margarita at an Irish bar in Uruguay. 

The next morning, I ate a ridiculous amount of breakfast (I’m not going to hold back on the buffet breakfast if you’re going to be charging me $20 for a night’s stay) and then went around town for a few hours before my 3pm bus. It was Sunday and pretty much everything was shut so my highlight from Montevideo was watching a Coca Cola commercial being filmed on Plaza Independencia.

I had come across a tiny mention of a place called Cabo Polonio in my Lonely Planet – ‘tiny fishing village which is home to a gorgeous stretch of beach and a staggering amount of wildlife – there’s sea lions and seals March to January, penguins in July and southern right whales in October and November. To get there, get off at the turnoff and pay for the 30-minute 4WD trip across the dunes into town’. I thought that sounded potentially fun so I’d booked a ticket for there when I first arrived into Montevideo. The timing of my departure seemed pretty great as 5min from the bus terminal, it started pouring down with rain. This was not the sort if weather I was expecting to see in these parts at this time of year.

It was a 5 hour bus ride to the entrance to the Cabo Polonio National Park and the sky started clearing up the closer we got. Good sign. We got dropped off, bought tickets for the ride to the beach and bonded over the slight randomness of the place. It was about 8.30 and as the 4×4 set off, with the 5 foreigners on the seats at the top (the Swedish girls instigated the climb up there but the rest of us soon followed), the sun was setting and the colours were just phenomenal. The ride across the sand dunes, through the pine tree forest, was crazy, bumpy to the point where we thought we might fall off. Once we got to the beach it was a much smoother, but no less beautiful, ride. I couldn’t even have imagined a better end to the day.

And I can’t really say much negative about the next 2 days that I spent there. It’s a little village of beach shacks in a multitude of colours, lovely Atlantic Ocean waves crashing on the beach, a picturesque lighthouse standing on the edge of town surrounded by a field of horses on one side and a colony of sea lions on the rocks on the other. There was no wifi and limited electricity so the bonding happened over card games at candlelight one night and excessive wine consumption on the beach the next. Despite its remoteness in many ways, it wasn’t off the beaten track though. There were many travellers, both foreign backpackers and locals with rolly suitcases so it didn’t have quite the quiet fishing village feel that the setting suggests but lovely it was.

On departure morning, it was pouring rain so the ride back out to the main road was a lot less pretty than on the way in. To get from Cabo Polonio to Punta Del Diablo, we connected through Castillos but thanks to some luck with the timing of the connecting bus, we still arrived by mid-afternoon.

Punta Del Diablo was lovely too although I would have liked it more if there had been a little bit more life in town. It’s still off-season so a lot of things were closed but because it’s bigger than Cabo Polonio, I expected a bit more to be going on (shops, beach-shack bars, something other than supermarkets). The hostel I stayed at had some of the best reviews of any hostel I’ve been at on this trip but they were very very well-earned – it was a lovely place with a huge communal kitchen, great showers, a pool and such an awesome relaxed atmosphere and management style.

After 4 days in the comfort of that place, and the best fish empanadas ever in one of the few open stalls next to the beachfront where the fishing boats docked, it was time to head to Brazil. And my last border crossing in South America was to be the one with the most rubbish transport connections I’ve had but easiest immigration. I’m finishing writing this on the final stretch of that bus journey so I’m tired and haven’t had a chance to process any of it properly so I’ll probably sound really whiny as the memories are still fresh in my mind.

I had all day in Punta Del Diablo (yay! More beach time!) before we got driven to the local bus stop (did I mention how totally awesome that hostel was?) to catch the 8pm bus to Chuy (Uruguayan side of the border town). Another guy from the hostel was going too and he spoke perfect Spanish which has been proving tremendously helpful. The bus was late but we knew we had a 3 hr wait ahead of us at Chuy before the 23.55 bus we were booked on was due to come past and pick us up so no big deal. But then, when we got to Chuy and spoke to the immigration officer (read: the guy I was travelling with did), he informed us that that bus rarely arrives before 1-1.30 so to be prepared for a wait. So we left our bags with him and walked towards town to kill some time. On the way we suddenly heard music coming from up a side street so went to check it out and ended up chilling on a set of bleachers set up the middle of the road, cordoned off for an end-of-school-year street party for 2 hours, eating 30 pesos panchos from the stall run by a few moms and listening to the live (non-student) band. After, we went into town and got a quick beer before heading back to the emigration office at midnight. Pretty awesome way to wait. If your bus shows up on time. But it didn’t. So we sat there (the officer brought out an extra chair so we both had one and saved me from sitting on the ground at eye-level with the stray dogs hanging around) and waited. And waited. By 1.30 there was no bus and I was about ready to lie to down on the pavement and sleep there.

Two(!!) hours late, at 2am, the bus arrived, with the cheeriest stewardess ever. At that point, her energy was lost on me though. She collected our passports and we got on the bus and settled into our seats (I was marginally envious that I hadn’t chosen to pay the extra couple of hundred pesos for cama). I didn’t see my passport again until about an hour ago (7.30am) when the (still) cheery stewardess brought everyone’s passports and ID cards back to us, stamped out of Uruguay and into Brazil with a completed entry card. So apparently border crossing formalities can be just that easy and Brazil doesn’t care to check if you look like your passport photo.

Now we should be approaching Porto Alegre where I am praying there are cambios that will change Uruguayan pesos because I have craploads left (courtesy of being told there are no ATMs in Cabo Polonio or Punta Del Diablo). We’ve been told Porto Alegre isn’t very nice so instead of hanging out there for the day, we are both planning on catching a bus to Florianopolis as soon as we can. Looking out the window, I’m a little concerned because it’s raining. A lot. And that is NOT what I have come to Brazil for! Weather-wise I’ve been pretty lucky so far though so I’m keeping my fingers crossed Brazil isn’t about to turn that around.

So, a final note on Uruguay: I thought mate was popular in Argentina but its nothing compared to there. Most people on the street carry a mate cup and a thermos. That mate obsession did teach me the actual function of the bags I’ve been seeing in Argentina and in Uruguay though, which looked like oversized binocular bags. They are actually for your mate cup and your mate thermos! Mystery solved!

Aside from that, my stay in Uruguay was too brief to really form a proper opinion about the place. From a tourism point of view, I’d for sure recommend people travelling through if they are in this part of the world anyways. And do the beaches, more of them than I did if you have the time. Because from what I got to see, they are lovely in different ways. If you read the Lonely Planet and (like everyone else who reads it) think Colonia is some awesome can’t-be-missed-or-rushed place, trust me when I say they have talked it up sooo much (and colonial towns are usually my thing. So I like to think my judgement should carry some value on this point). Rush it. There are gems in the coast you don’t want to miss.

Today I’m listening to: Of Monsters and Men – ‘Slow And Steady’