Wednesday, Bruna and I did a day trip to Colonia del Sacramento, Uruguay. Colonia is a town on the river Plata across from Buenos Aires. We took the slow 3 hour ferry there and the fast 1 hour ferry back. Our morning progressed much like in the movies when someone is trying to make their flight on time. Bruna got stuck in traffic at 7:30am, so we took a taxi instead of a bus from the hostel when she picked me up. The taxi driver raced to get us there on time, dodging other taxis and scared pedestrians crossing the street at the last minute. We arrived at the Buquebus station with less than two minutes to spare before our boat left for Uruguay. Ran through the terminal, went through passport control, and made it to the ferry just in time. Ate overpriced breakfast at a little café on the boat, then took a nap until we arrived at the port in Uruguay.
With no real idea of where we were going [my absolute favorite way to travel] we wandered around laughing and taking photos until we arrived at a restaurant that sounded tasty. Indeed it was. We ate lunch and drank 2 liters of sangria while looking out over the river. The rest of the day after that was, well, hilarious. We scraped together the absolute last of each of our pesos to gain entrance to the light house. Ascended the narrow stairs and spent a lot of time looking out over a very empty, very tranquil and beautiful Colonia. With the amount of sangria in our systems, we almost forgot to catch the boat back to Buenos Aires, so once again we had to corre corre corre to Buquebus. The 1 hour ferry was obviously much faster, but not as pretty.
Here's a partial documentation of the day in photos:
Uruguay was practically empty yesterday. By which I mean the tiny little town of Colonia was empty, probably not the whole country of Uruguay. The Uruguayan people we met were so kind and soft spoken. Their accents were quite different from those in Argentina or Chile. At one point, two guys asked Bruna and me if we are Chilean. Unfortunately I am told that the majority of South America really dislikes Chile, especially the way Chileans speak. I hardly understand these kinds of politics in my own country, let alone a completely different continent. But where I was happy to be assumed a native Spanish speaker, Bruna informed me I should be offended that they interpreted our accents as Chilean. Oh well. I was still proud of myself.