Colonia del Sacramento

I intended to fly directly to Montevideo from Puerto Iguazu…actually, it was more than intent.  I had a CONFIRMED FUCKING RESERVATION, but when I arrived at the airport, Aerolineas Argentinas Dude kept saying something about “cancellado.”  Instead of punching him in the face, which he clearly deserved, I asked him calmly to get me on ANOTHER FUCKING AIRPLANE since I had a CONFIRMED FUCKING RESERVATION.  Dude took my money, checked my bag and handed me a boarding pass…to Buenos Aires.  What the???   “No, Dude, I need to go to Montevideo.  You know this.  Because I have a CONFIRMED FUCKING RESERVATION.”

Dude tries to charge me twice the price for a flight to Montevideo (that was supposedly “cancellado”), at which point I have to just shake my head and walk away.  These motherfuckers…

So…Buenos Aires!  I hit the ground, asked Tourist Info Dude how to get to the ferry to Montevideo, and then took a cab to the Buquebus Terminal.  Of course, the next ferry is 4 hours away, so I need to find a place to hang out and kill some time.  After hauling my shit (What the hell is in this pack anyway??  Jesus!) around a town that I don’t know and am not supposed to be in, I finally find a café with WiFi and settle in.  Five minutes later, Emily, my former roomie from Cusco, is on her way down to hang out.  Five minutes after she shows up, we see Cameron walking by the café and run out to tackle her.  Not bad luck for a city of ~7 million…

While online, I discover that my man Bostjan from Slovenia (this is not going to end well) is in transit to Colonia del Sacramento (~20,000  people, ~100 feet), which is the first stop on the ferry ride and I make the fateful decision to stop there first. 

First impressions of Uruguay: 

1. Much as the mullet is back in Argentina (thank you, Messi), the muscle shirt is back in Uruguay.  I can’t explain it.  I can’t defend it.  Just reporting what I see.
2. I think these people are more addicted to yerba mate than the Argentinians.  Everyone walking around town - down the street, along the beach, even through the goddamn grocery store - has a mate cup in one hand and a thermos of hot water under their arm.
3. The spaces are beautiful, the people are beautiful.  The food is shit.  The wine is even shittier.  Tradeoffs…

Next is a blur of beach, hammock, and Malbeer.  I think I enjoyed it here.  It will take some time (rehab?) to be sure.

(As a special bonus to this wicked hangover I’m nursing on the bus to Montevideo, I got absolutely torched – thankfully and luckily, for the first time – by the bedbugs last night.  Rough count is around 350 bites.)