Argentina '06 - Livin' The Dream, Bro!

Remember that old “Wayne’s World” sketch where they stand in front of various backdrops such as Paris and New York and pretend to be from those places, then when images of Delaware pop up they have nothing to say except “OK, we’re in Delaware”?

Well, I had the exact same reaction yesterday after stepping off the Buquebus ferry in Colonia. I took one look around the non-descript port area and declared to nobody in particular “OK, I guess I’m in Uruguay.” I followed the tourist hoard to the nearby old town, which has by far the most cobbled streets of any place I’ve ever visited. I’m only somewhat gimpy, and walking around was a bit challenging; I can only imagine what the elderly must deal with there.

After an overpriced and underwhelming lunch, I rented a scooter for an hour, which now holds the title of “Best Thing I’ve Done on this Vacation.” I spent an hour cruising around the non-cobbled streets of the new town, which were eerily devoid of traffic (I guess it’s a Sunday thing). Then I followed the coastal road for a couple kilometers, cranking the accelerator as far as it would go, but had no idea of how fast I was traveling since the speedometer was broken. Grand total for an hour of vehicular fun? A whopping $5 US Dollars (or 115 Uruguayan Pesos, the most inflated currency I’ve ever had to deal with).

Like Teatro Colon last week, I got the gist of Colonia pretty quickly, and had plenty of time to kill until my 9:00 p.m. ferry back to Buenos Aires. I climbed to the top of the lighthouse, relaxed on the waterfront, checked my e-mail and fantasy football score, and took in one of the most spectacular sunsets I’ve ever witnessed (see below). Most of the day trippers were on the 5:30 boat, and after their departure the locals reclaimed their streets; I estimated 90% of them were sipping mate (Uruguayans drink even more mate than Argentines, something I didn’t think was possible). Thoroughly exhausted, I eventually got back to my apartment about 11:00 p.m.

The trip to Colonia was worth taking solely for the incredibly comical English-language translations of advertisements in the city’s tourism brochure. This was my favorite, for a restaurant called Café Tujika:

“The place is particularly magical. Outside, tables facing the river and city. Inside, concentrated aromas, ancestral meals. Fusion food. Vegetables shine here.”

You can’t make that kind of stuff up, folks! I desperately wanted to patronize this establishment – and see if it was in fact necessary to wear sunglasses while looking at the vegetables – but sadly Café Tijuka is closed on Sundays…

Colonia was the cap to an entertaining weekend that began with a congregation of IBL students at a bar called The Shamrock on Friday evening. With a 2-for-1 Happy Hour lasting until midnight the atmosphere quickly turned convivial, and around 1:30 a.m. I found myself in a taxi with my two Brazilian buddies Lucas and Victor, a statuesque German girl named Nicole and Avi from Chicago. We were headed for Opera Bay, the most mega of the city’s mega clubs. Still being early by Argentine clubbing standards, we waltzed right in without a wait and had our pick of five rooms with different music, although at some point 80’s tunes were played in each of them. It was my first-ever experience at an enormous dance venue and while I had a good time, at 5:00 a.m. the thumping electronica was too much for my ears to handle and Avi and I split a cab back to Palermo. There was STILL a line to get in when we left.

In my advanced age I needed a good part of Saturday to recover, but made it to the shops along Avendia Santa Fe to find a replacement for my black jacket that was maliciously stolen last Thursday. Although what I bought will suffice, there will always be a soft spot in my heart for my velour friend. However, my spirits were lifted when I came across a store selling an odd assortment of American sports apparel, most of it from the previous millennium. Hiding behind a Cal Ripken bobblehead doll, I spotted a leather LOS ANGELES Raiders luggage tag in its original packaging, with a copyright date of 1987!!! I eagerly forked over the 15 pesos, and when the clerk tried to sell me on a similar product from the Kansas City Chiefs, I let out a hearty laugh. After explaining that the Raiders-Chiefs rivalry is akin to Boca Juniors vs. River Plate, she understood and put the offending item away.

Having taken up a solid three minutes of your life with this drivel, I will say thanks for reading and farewell. Stay tuned later this week for news of a potential change in my upcoming travel plans. Ooooooh, the suspense!!!