Riding the Buquebus (to Uruguay!)

Though we began our 4th day in Buenos Aires unfamiliar with the joys of Buquebus, by the end of the day we were all humming the tour boat's theme song. Since Buquebus tickets were relatively cheap, and the ride only two hours (in comparison with 6-8 hour bus rides around the bay) we were willing to get up early to catch the boat to Uruguay.

Unlike our death-defying water taxi in Valparaiso, the Buquebus was enormous and very secure. The spacious lobbies and lounges, duty free shop, and various cafès kept us occupied for the majority of the voyage. The spectacular view of Buenos Aires from the water enticed many tourists to brave the cold sea breezes (around 45 degrees Fahrenheit) and step out on the deck. Although at first we suspected the Buquebus might be filled with commuters, this certainly was not the case, as most of the passengers appeared to be wealthy Argentinians (or tourists) on a day trip.

Our destination, Colonia, was a small harbor town which resembled both New England (weather!) and the Bahamas. A nice change from the big city, Colonia had only a few main roads, and the main attraction seemed to be the lighthouse. Most of Colonia's inhabitants appeared to be involved with one of three industries: fishing, painting, or golf cart rental (though there were a few more daring tourists on mopeds.) We considered renting a golf cart, but agreed that the rain and cobblestone streets might pose problems.

Instead, we were content to wander the streets, visit the cheese and wine shops, stock up on souvenirs (Uruguay t-shirts!), and explore the country's oldest church. While perusing the same gift shop for the third time, we agreed that while Colonia might be a nice place to visit during the summer, winter activities were rather limited. Before leaving we stocked up on groceries and I indulged in another submarino, unaware of what was to come...

The return Buquebus ride can only be described as "an experience." While walking the few blocks back to the dock, the sky grew dark, the gentle rain turned into a downpour, and the wind picked up. As one of my more motion-sickness prone friends turned slightly green at the sight of the choppy water, we began to suspect what was to come. Not having had much experience on boats, I had always assumed that those movie scenes where things slide off of tables and the boat visibly slants back and forth were exaggerated. Unfortunately, these scenes could have been taken from our four-hour return journey, in which the elegant lounges were filled with miserable tourists, draped over chairs or sprawled on the floor in nauseous agony.

(Surely in an attempt to calm the passengers,) the Buquebus staff played the same "how to put on your lifejacket" video on the lounge TVs continuously throughout the journey, (at least 25 times). Drama increased when the captain, who was apparently new, had some trouble docking the Buquebus. We waited with fierce anticipation, watching the same skyscraper move back and forth in front of the windows for nearly an hour. Everyone clapped and cheered in a moment of true celebration when the Buquebus was finally maneuvered into its place.

Return customs (in a dim basement) provided more excitement; when the "Immigration Window" remained closed 30 minutes after all of the passengers escaped the Buquebus, an elderly lady almost started a riot. "¡Por favor!" she shrieked, "Estamos mal!" (Literally, "Please, we're not doing well.") Her yelling stirred up the crowd (we glanced around for an escape route if needed), and she grinned in satisfaction when the window was reluctantly opened.

Since our plane left at 10 the next morning, we decided to cut back on sleep again and make use of our final few hours exploring the neighborhood of La Boca. Though La Boca is one of the poorest barrios in La Boca, it has become somewhat of a tourist attraction. Filled with corrugated metal buildings painted rainbow colors and wrought iron balconies, it reminded us a little of New Orleans. Already at 8am, tango music was pouring out of shops into the streets - we had hoped to see some dancing as well, but apparently all of the dancers were sleeping.

Boarding the plane for home, we agreed that while we feel we've gotten a taste of Buenos Aires, there is still so much to see! A return visit sounds tempting (but first we need to get some sleep!)

This weekend: program trip to the city of Pucòn in Chile's Lake District