Colonials in Colonia

" Charm is more than just beauty" Proverb

Everyone told me Colonia was beautiful and that I would enjoy its Old World charm.  I have to confess we had no intention of going for any other reason than to catch a boat to Argentina.  However, after spending a couple of days in its picturesque setting I understood the delight that is Colonia de Sacramento

Colonia was built by the Portuguese in 1680 and the Barrio Historico old town is a walking memory of yesteryear.  The city was built to threaten the Spanish military stationed over the river in Buenos Aires.   Now the cobbled streets wind a restaurant route past stone city walls and old fashioned draw bridges.  Passed back and forth between the warring nations of Portugal and Spain for centuries, the architecture reflects the erratic ownership.  The streets change from the rough cobbles of the historical Portuguese style into the wide avenues of the Spanish Colonial checkerboard style. Colonia was even briefly held by the British and the Brazilians.  Finally in 1825, Uruguay became its own nation and merely a weekend destination for the Argentinians.  

‘It used to be a good hotel, but that proves nothing—I used to be a good boy. Both of us have lost character of late years.’
Mark Twain

Driving down from Carmelo to Colonia was a quick journey through farming country with fields sown together into a patchwork on both sides of the winding road.  We arrived at the Raddison and threw the bags in the room eager to get out there and find a spot of lunch.

"Ask not what you can do for your country. Ask what's for lunch." 

Orson Welles.

Only a couple of blocks away we stumbled into a cobbled courtyard scattered with vintage cars, pots of geraniums and checkered cloth cafe tables.

"I drive way too fast to worry about cholesterol."

Author Unknown

Sitting down to lunch in the weak winter sunshine seemed a divine pleasure.  Unbelievably, it got better, as a guitar duo began crooning gently in dulcet tones.  Pinch me, this European flavor was carried over to the fine food that was soon delivered to the table by the friendly plump waitress.  The same congenial lady had painstakingly helped me conquer the menu and our order in Spanish.  Pinch me again!  Who am I?

“In Italy, they add work and life on to food and wine."

Robin Leach

Colonia had lots of Spanish and Italian immigrants and that cultural flavor lives on in the  cuisine.  Once the food hit the stomach and the sun dipped below the handsome architecture of the buildings the kids and Greg went back to the hotel leaving me to explore the afternoon alone.  The perfect place for a mamaventure.  

The old cobble streets were a plethora of wonder, where historical European architecture  blended with a modern Uruguayan bohemia flavor.  I exhaled in the sheer delight of the warm afternoon sun reflecting on the pink adobes scattered along Calle de los Suspiros, Street of Sighs.

“A sigh isn't just a sigh. We inhale the world and breathe out meaning." 

Salman Rushdie

As with all Euro style history, everything is so old that legends, like flowers, spring up all over the place.  The street of sighs was no different.  As the shadows of the trailing geraniums grew longer I tried to decide which tale I liked best.  The first fable tells of prisoners executed and last breaths.  Then there is the more romantic story of a stabbed lover's last dying gasp.  Finally, probably the most believable anecdote of all was that during the busy port era the street was lined with prostitutes trying to tempt the sailors into sighs of pleasure.

"Life is a combination of magic and pasta."

Federico Fellini

Wandering alone lets me imagine for moment what life would be like if I lived here.  Ordering a quick espresso while having long conversations in Spanish.  But who was I kidding I could barely ask a question let alone understand the answer.  This was not very Eat, Pray, Love of me, it was more Snack, Stutter, Stumble.  I chatted to an American woman living in Brazil she is the only person I have ever known who went from blonde to brunette.  Why?  Because everyone understands her Spanish and Portuguese better now.  What hope was there for me?  I pulled my hat lower and moved on.

"In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone"

Paul Simon

"The air was soft, the stars so fine, the promise of every cobbled alley so great, that I thought I was in a dream." 

Jack Kerouac

Bart: Lower the draw bridge!

Lisa: What's the password?

Bart: (slowly) I love my sister.

Bart and Lisa Simpson

I made my way down to the water, weaving through brilliantly painted buildings to the thick walls and drawbridge, my camera clicking overtime.  While the sun slipped behind the clouds my last day in Uruguay drew to a close as I was melancholic to leave but eagerly anticipated the adventure of Argentina that lay ahead.

“Think of what starlight 

And lamplight would lack 

Diamonds and fireflies 

If they couldn’t lean against Black. . . .” 

Mary O'Neill

"My Mom said she learned how to swim when someone took her out in the lake and threw her off the boat. 

I said, "Mom, they weren't trying to teach you how to swim."" 

Paula Poundstone

Through the soft morning mist the Plate River looked like a lake, a brown lake but a flat calm lake none the less.  Surrounded by Argentinians and folks from Uruguay in the huge port building we were smoothly shepherded through the check in procedure and then onto immigration.  Stamped out of Uruguay by one chap then stamped into Argentina by the guy standing next to him.  Uber efficient.  Through the huge glass windows of the waiting lounge I spotted the massive Catamaran ferry coming into dock.  Lines of cars streamed out from the belly of the iron ship, while foot passengers surged out of the upper decks along glass air bridges.  Turn around time for the boat was quick and we were soon jostling  aboard our ride to Argentina.  Once aboard I realized what all the jostling was about there was barely an empty seat in the house.  

Slipping out of Colonia into the muddy waters of the Plate we were soon enveloped in the mist, the pirate ghosts and naval cries of yore.

“Only the man who crosses the river at night 

knows the value of the light of day”

 Chinese Proverbs