Day-scape to Colonia

Lighthouse of Colonia

Colonia, Uruguay
Article and Photos by Jason McKenney


“And only then did he arrive at his real treasures, each carefully wrapped in cloth and embedded in nests of crumpled paper and shredded rags: the silk handkerchief of a pagan goddess of ancient Soghdia, given to a forgotten hero as a token of her love; a piece of exquisite scrimshaw work on whalebone depicting the hunting of a stag…”

--The Enchantress of Florence by Salman Rushdie 

His name was Jose or Bernardo … or something. He was a young man with a scruffy growth of facial hair typical of the young men in Buenos Aires. He was our taxi driver taking my wife and I to the Puerto Madera, and he was curious where we were from what we thought of his hometown. My wife, a native Chilean, replied cordially that it was very beautiful. Great food, not too expensive. Jose or Bernardo said he loved to travel but everything is so far from BA – Uruguay is close, but Brazil is far.

Looking towards Argentina
from Colonia

His sister had moved with her husband to Valencia, Spain, and he had gone to visit recently. He loved it because in Europe one can take a train to so many different countries rather easily. Jose or Bernardo judged Buenos Aires to be too expensive compared to his time in Brazil. Getting a good beer and a steak without emptying your wallet was much easier there.

Throughout this conversation the young man constantly reminded us how much he enjoyed to travel and that he envied our day-scape plan to Uruguay. It was another reminder that the primal urge to explore, to see new things, to experience the unknown (at least to our own personal senses), courses through all our veins. It’s also apparent that in some people that urge is stronger than others.


“…a locket containing a portrait of Her Majesty the Queen; a leather-bound hexagonal book from the Holy Land, upon whose tiny pages, in miniature writing embellished with extraordinary illuminations, was the entire text of the Qur’an; a broken –nosed stone head from Meacedonia, reputed to be a portrait of Alexander the Great…”

Onboard marketplace

Jose/Bernardo dropped us off at the port and we made our way inside the large structure. We actually had to get out of the taxi and walk another eighth of a mile to the entry due to the busy traffic congestion that wasn’t allowing anyone to approach the port entrance with any sort of efficiency.

The large passenger boat was operated by the Buquebus company. They charged P2300 ($250) roundtrip for two people across the Rio Plata between Argentina and Uruguay.  The ride took an hour and fifteen minutes one way. Once across, my wife and I would be on our own for a three hour stay on the outskirts of Colonia.

Rio de la Plata

The port on the Argentine side had large open spaces built with modern architecture. Giant windows looked out onto the beautiful harbor where several boats awaited. Escalators lifted passengers to the upper level where the gates were located. Several food kiosks lined the wide walkways similar to being in an airport. I registered, paid, and collected my boarding pass all in same line. Then we found our way to immigration.

I had my American passport, my wife her Chilean. Two visitors to Argentina making a brief stop in Uruguay. The boat was like a small cruise ship. It had two decks, a duty-free shop, lounges, and a small cafe. We paid an extra $20 each for the VIP seats. This premium included access to the upper deck where plush lounging seats awaited us, glasses of champagne, and much more room than sitting downstairs with the peasants. They were relegated to hard benches and no HD TV.

Cobblestone streets of Colonia

After doing some rudimentary research online, I found out the Río de la Plata (or River Plate) is the wide estuary formed by the confluence of the Uruguay and the Paraná rivers. Its brown waters form a funnel-shaped indentation about 180 miles into the southeastern coastline of South America. It widens from about 1.2 miles at the inner part to about 140 miles at its mouth.

The part that most interested me was the fact that it forms part of the border between Argentina and Uruguay, with the major ports and capital cities of Buenos Aires and Montevideo on its western and northern shores, respectively. But we weren’t taking the trip to Montevideo (population 1.3 million), we were going to much smaller town of Colonia (population 26K).

Gate to Old Town

“… one of the cryptic “seals” of the Indus Valley civilization, found in Egypt, bearing the image of a bull and a series of hieroglyphs that had never been decoded, an object whose purpose no man knew; a flat, polished Chinese stone bearing a scarlet I Ching hexagram and dark natural markings resembling a mountain range at dusk…”

A taxi is not really needed for this short of stay. A brief walk from the boat port leads to plenty of small restaurants, quaint novelty shops, and a quiet little park. That being said, it never hurts to hear a little insight about the local area from someone who is familiar with it. Our taxi driver in Colonia, a middle-aged, overweight man with bushy gray side-burns and named Enrique, offered us a one hour tour of the Colonia highlights for $45.

Posing with street performers

“Uruguay is the most democratic country in all of South America,” said Enrique. He had the deep, scruffy voice of a man who smoked a dozen cigarettes a day. “People like our President [José] Mujica. He is very popular.”

Graffiti on a local business

One of the oldest cities in Uruguay, Colonia del Sacramento was founded in 1680 by Portugal but colonized by Spain. The primary food staples are meat and fish, and there is one private university in the small town. We putzed slowly through Old Town where Enrique made a few brief stops for us. We poked our heads into the old Basílica del Santísimo Sacramento, investigated a roadside market that specialized in glazed wind chimes, and took a moment to snap photos with a mime who was performing near the lighthouse overlooking the shoreline.

A nice suburban home

Argentines own many of the pleasant suburban houses that overlook the bay. This was a fact that seemed to perturb our cabbie. “The locals can’t even afford the good houses,” he said with a huff. In the more expensive historic district, houses cost between $400-600K. The surrounding areas skewed lower from $120-200K.

These natives of Buenos Aires (or Porteños, as they are called) “give all Argentines a bad name in Uruguay” said Enrique. My wife asked why that was. “Because they are arrogant. They buy the best property and then leave, only staying here on holiday. They don’t care about the politics here or the local culture.”

Cafe in the center
of town

Our small taxi rolled along the Rambla de las Americas (dare I say we rambled? No, I daren’t.), a wide and roomy avenue that parallels the shoreline. There are attractive teenagers riding bicycles, smiling as we pass by. They are probably Argentines on holiday, I muse cynically. How quickly Enrique’s way of thinking has infected me.

The sun would be setting soon. The sky, free from the distraction of tall buildings or rolling hills, slowly faded into a mellow mix of pale blue and Creamsicle orange. We turned into one of the neighborhoods. The streets were lined with small houses similar to many Midwestern burbs in the US except there was very little movement. No one out mowing the lawns, no one washing their car, no kids playing basketball (or soccer) in the driveways. “Because all the Argentines have gone back to Buenos Aires,” scoffed Enrique.

“On your right you’ll see the Plaza de toros.” After leaving the neighborhood we passed several large farms where cattle and horses stared at us as we drove by. Beyond the farms, at the intersection of several main roadways, was a large roundabout. In the middle of the roundabout, as if planted at the center of the world itself, was a large bull ring. It was deserted and crumbling like a derelict Roman Coliseum. Like a once famous movie star whose time in the lime light had long passed. Enrique stopped so we could step out and take a few photos.

Plaza de toros

A couple horses in a nearby stable watched us with their big shiny eyes. A peaceful twilight. One could almost hear the ghosts of long ago fans cheering on their favorite matadors, people who are now long dead, having led lives and enjoyed entertainments likely without giving a lick of what was happening in the US at that time. Another thing travel can do is make one realize how full and enriching people can make their lives anywhere and everywhere without ever having to rely on some distant super power or omnipotent Cultural Influencer. All they need is a little spirit. Maybe a bullring.

“It opened in 1910, hosted seven or eight bullfights then closed due to animal cruelty sentiment,” said Enrique. “Meanwhile in Spain, it goes on forever.”

Rambla de las Americas

“… a painted porcelain egg; a shrunken head made by the denizens of the Amazon rain forest; and a dictionary of the lost language of the Panamanian isthmus whose speakers were all extinct except for one old woman who could no longer pronounce the words properly on account of the loss of her teeth.”

Artwork along the Ramblas

Dusk was quickly moving in. We returned to Old Town Colonia along the Ramblas and Enrique dropped us off at the front entrance. Waiting in line to embark, I took stock of what I had gained. While visiting Argentina, my wife and I had been able to make a brief stop into Uruguay to visit a town I barely knew existed.

Final view from Colonia

I had the faintest recollection of “Colonia” from elementary geography classes where we had to memorize world cities, but the place seemed too distant and remote on a map. It could hardly have been a real place. Seeing it in person, hearing the music, meeting some of the people, and sampling the local cuisine made it all very real. “Putting skin onto memories,” as my dad would say. I hadn’t brought back with me all sorts of little treasures as described by Salman Rushdie in The Enchantress of Florence, but the knowledge and insights gained were just as valuable.

Basílica del Santísimo Sacramento

Adios!