Sally and I left early on Sunday morning to catch the colectivo (1) from our barrio to the train station. After scrounging for some monedas (coins), since the bus system here does not accept cash, we made it down to the train station at the exact moment the train was supposed to depart. We learned that the train station here functions about 10 minutes ahead of real time. They even had their clock adjusted as so. We would be taking the train (2) to Tigre where we would then board a ferry straight to Montevideo. Sounds easy enough, right?
From Buenos Aires to the Tigre train stop, there were about 14 stops. Six away from our destination, the train shut down and Sally and I were kicked off in an area we had never heard of. Following the crowd of people to the town center, we figured we would be able to find a taxi just as easily as in Buenos Aires. False. Buenos Aires lives in a bubble and I should learn that nothing is ever the same outside of that bubble. Many people were taking busses, but not knowing exactly which one to take, and the fact that they were all full and being really pressed for time, we really needed to find a taxi fast. Sally asked a man for the best place to pick up a taxi and he pointed us across the street to a remise station.
The receptionist at the remise station told us it would be about a 15 minute wait. So with no other option, we took a seat on a bench next to two young fellas who hadn't gone to bed for the night yet. One tried his hardest to get Sally to go out for coffee with him, amongst other things, but he didn't have much luck. We were both very thankful when a nice couple, who had also been kicked off the train, came to the rescue. They were very clearly well-traveled people, who spoke English fluently. After discovering we were both going to Tigre, they offered to share a remise with us. Sally and I gladly accepted, and we were soon on our way to Tigre with our new friends (and their cutest baby!) in a remise(3).
Before I continue, let me back up. Sally and I were supposed to be meeting up with Iris and her friend Julia at the ferry. After we were kicked off the train, I called Iris to inform her of our troubles but my phone call also served as a wake-up call for them. They had slept through their alarm and hadn't even begun their journey yet! We figured we would for sure be missing the ferry, but nevertheless, Iris and Julia called a remise as well and we made plans to meet them at Tigre.
Sally and I made it to the ferry(4) just in the nick of time, and I'm still surprised Iris and Julia made it at all. It was a struggle to find seats (thats what we get for nearly missing it), but Iris and Julia decided to have a picnic on the bow. I joined them for a little before I opted to sleep. We had assumed that the ferry would be taking us straight to Montevideo, but three hours later, the ferry kicked everyone off at the last stop in Carmelo. Apparently, we had to take a bus from Carmelo to Montevideo, which was definitely news to all of us. We had no other option but to stand in the long customs line to enter in to Uruguay. During this time, we realized there are certain food items which are not allowed to be brought in to the country, nearly all of which Iris had brought along. Much to the amusement of those standing the customs line, we scarfed down as much as we could before crossing the border (which, in the end, they didn't even check to see what we were bringing in).
We boarded the bus (5) to Montevideo, and in between closing my eyes, I took in the Uruguayan landscape. Uruguay is a series of rolling hills and farms. Apart from Montevideo itself, I didn't see any cities en route. In fact, I didn't really see any forms of civilization apart from the farms. From my window-seat, Uruguay was a never-ending countryside covered by a blanket of blue sky and wisps of white clouds. Truly peaceful.
After the bus finally dropped us off in Montevideo, we had to take a city bus(6) to our hostel, the Green Hostel. The streets surrounding our hostel were empty. Every business was closed, with the exception of very very few restaurants. We were told several times to "watch our things" and "be careful" in this area, so I wasn't expecting much of our hostel. But my expectations proved me way wrong. The Green Hostel was very clean and orderly, and the staff very friendly and helpful. And, as the name implies, the Green Hostel is an eco-friendly place.
The four of us made friends with Martin, one of the hostel workers. Martin offered to show us a little of Montevideo by car (7), and not knowing the area, we accepted his invitation. It conveniently happened to be Martin's birthday as the clock struck 12, so to help him celebrate, we created our own party on the sidewalk between the beach and the road. I think it would be really cool to work in a hostel one day. Having the opportunity to share life with someone for a small moment in time has the ability to make the world feel like a smaller place.
We woke up bright and early, rather, dark and early as the sun was not yet up, and took a taxi(8) back to the Montevideo bus station where we picked up the bus (9) to Cabo Polonio. Four hours later, of much of the same farmland scenery, and we were dropped off on the side of the road. We walked towards a small group of people waiting in line for the next, and final, mode of transportation to Cabo Polonio- and this was by far the coolest. Cabo Polonio is called a paraíso natural (natural paradise). The paved roads ended and we embarked on a 30 minute trek in what can best be described as a sand dune truck. This truck (10), which would never meet safety standards of any kind, was a double-decker contraption set on sand- drivable tires on the frame of various kinds of trucks. Taking a seat on the bottom level, I found it humorous to look up and only see strangers' feet dangling from the second story. While there was a clear path we were taking, it was an otherwise rugged excursion through sand and shrubbery. When we finally disembarked, we found ourselves in the center of a hippie beach town: no electricity, no running water, and the houses were built out of whatever the sea had deposited on its shores.
We arrived with no reservations for accommodation, and were given little hope of actually finding any given that it was a holiday weekend. (Side note, the president of Argentina declared March 7 and 8 as a national holiday just this year to encourage people to participate in Carnaval). The first hostel we inquired about had three beds, which was a lot better than none at all. We checked a couple more hostels but with no luck, so we checked the four of us for beds for three. The hostel was family owned, and by that, I think one woman ran it while her daughters and young grandchildren hung around the campsite (more or less) all day.
Since there was no running water, showering and using the bathroom was an adventure, and I tried to do both as little as possible. If you wanted a hot shower, you had to tell the lady that ran the hostel so she could boil a tea kettle of water for you. This was was then dumped into a bucket which had a very tiny nozzle at the bottom for the water to drip out of- all suspended in the air by a rope. They did actually have toilets, but in order to flush, you had to dump another bucket of water in it to push everything down. Toilet paper was to be thrown in the trash can, not the toilet itself. All other water was obtained through a small water pump located on the side of the hostel.
Iris, Sally, Julia and I were supposed to be meeting up with Sally, Bene and Bene's brother (who we all call Harry Potter, and it's far easier to say that than his actual German name!). Not having any way of contacting one another, we only hoped that we would eventually run into each other. And sure enough, we did! They had managed to find a hostel just across the dirt path from us. They had a better kitchen than our hostel did, so we opted to cook our pasta dinner there. Iris, alongside another new friend, Daniel (who is an "expert" chef) whipped up a wonderful concoction of pasta with a red cream sauce. After dinner, Daniel tried to share a home remedy for cleaning dishes....with sand. Being a bit skeptical, we had to laugh when this experiment was called off due to a clogged kitchen sink. We finished the night off star-gazing, and in a town with absolutely no electricity, I don't think I've ever seen the stars quite like that. Incredible.
Our two groups had only rented a hostel for one night, so the next morning, we were homeless and on a quest for a new place to stay. We stumbled upon Marcelo (who I have yet to figure out exactly what he does in that town). Marcelo told us he had a couple of hostels here and there where we could be split up....OR, he had another place, away from the touristy side of Cabo Polonio (the place isn't that big, by the way, it was more like the other side of the street). We followed him up the hill into what he called the "Beverly Hills of Cabo Polonio." Here, we met Chonga, the owner of this incredible house with just enough room for the seven of us. Chonga's house sat a little higher than the other houses in "Beverly Hills," and you could see the ocean from nearly all sides. We were told several times by the locals that we had stumbled upon the best house in the city.
A large majority of our time was spent on the roof of Chonga's house and with such an incredible view, it was tough to come down from there. The house was a typical beach style house- open doors, hammocks, sand...perfect for lounging around, doing absolutely nothing- which was exactly what we did. It also had a fire pit which would have been excellent for making smores, but I don't think that delicacy exists in South America.
We ventured down to the beach for a little bit and swam in the warm water. Unfortunately, this fun was cut short when Sarah was attacked by a demon man-of-war jelly fish. Her arm looked like this thing grabbed a hold of her and didn't let go for a good five minutes. I don't think I've ever seen a sting quite like that one. But Sarah was a champion- even though she was in an extreme amount of pain, you never would have been able to tell.
After Bene and Harry Potter attempted to do a little surfing, and I did some exploring on the rocks, we decided to scrape our money together for a fish dinner. I say we had to scrape our money together because between the seven of us, we only had a limited amount of money to spare, and we were under the assumption that ATMs did not exist in this city. It was only until five minutes before we left that we learned there was indeed an ATM on site. Oops! Oh well, it was kind of fun seeing how much we could do with our limited funds. We finished the night off sitting silently in front of the fire for a few hours until one by one we went to bed. Sweet serenity filled Cabo Polonio, and was such a welcome change to the constant noise in Buenos Aires.
We didn't have to leave until the afternoon on the next day, so we spent the morning soaking up the last bits of tranquility. Chonga, Marcelo and his friend showed us the natural jacuzzi, which had been formed by the rocks leading into the ocean and refilled by the crashing waves. Iris, Julia, Bene, Harry Potter and I went to visit the lighthouse and took in the panoramic view of Cabo Polonio. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. We said goodbye to Chonga and Marcelo, split some empanadas, and piled back in to the sand dune truck (11) that took us away from paradise.
Back to paved roads, we took another four hour bus (12) to Montevideo where our group would once again be splitting ways. Iris, Julia and I had to go back to reality the next day while the other four had one more day of relaxation. After finding out the next bus back to Buenos Aires (via Colonia) would not be leaving until 2:30am, we took the colectivo (13) back to the Green Hostel were the others checked in for the night. We went back to the parilla stand where we ate choripan the first night. My heart broke as I watched a homeless man dig through the trash cans sitting right in front of me for someone's leftovers to eat. How could I be so blessed and have so much and yet not five feet in front of me was a man who had nothing. I couldn't finish my choripan sandwich.
We took a taxi (14) from the Green Hostel back to the bus station and boarded our bus (15) for Colonia. From Colonia, we hopped on a ferry (16) and sailed on to Buenos Aires (which, by the way, we had first class tickets which got us a free donut and orange juice on board!). Back in the concrete city, we hopped on yet another bus (17) that dropped us off close to home.
All of that relaxation left me exhausted, and I was thoroughly disappointed to have to go to class just four hours after returning home. Never in my life would I have guessed I would have had a weekend quite like this Uruguayan adventure, but never would I trade it.
Sand-dune Truck
View of the sunset from the roof
Chonga's house
View of Cabo Polonio from the lighthouse
Bus stop in the middle of nowhere.
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