South America

Argentina – Buenos Aires: Empanadas, Tombs & Tango

| 2suitcasesfor2years

The ferry vibrated gently as the engines were switched into reverse as we approached the Buquebus ferry terminal in Buenos Aires. We had departed earlier from Montevideo, Uruguay, and hoped to view the Argentinian coastline from the Río de la Plata estuary, as the first Spanish explorers did in the early years of the 16th century. But we hadn’t expected the ferry not to have an open observation deck, and instead had to contend with the view, or lack of view, through hazy saltwater-etched windows.

Seasoned travelers on this route between Montevideo and Buenos Aires had already called for the ride share services of Cabify, inDriver, Didi, Easy Taxi or BA Taxi and waited curbside in front of the terminal. By the time the ferry docked there were no available drivers for 45 minutes. We were among the last to leave the port that morning.

Our first impressions of this wonderfully cosmopolitan city were formed along the 16-lane wide – yes, 16 lanes – Av. 9 de Julio. Despite its width it is a pleasant tree-and park-lined esplanade, that extends for 27 blocks through the city and reminded us of the area around Central Park in Manhattan. Older buildings from the 18th and 19th century shared the skyline with more modern buildings than we expected, as well as the first of many street murals dedicated to the football player Lionel Messi #10 for Argentina national football team, and the country’s superstar at the moment. The sidewalks were bustling with activity. We wondered how we would ever cross 16 lanes of traffic on foot.

Our hotel for the next six nights, Urban Suites Recoleta, was across the street from Buenos Aire’s historic Cementerio de la Recoleta. We soon learned that most landmarks and hotels in the neighborhood ended with Recoleta in their name. The cemetery from our balcony looked like an ancient lost city.

The next morning, we explored the immediate neighborhood around the hotel that was full of activity with delivery trucks off-loading produce and dog walkers leading their packs of small dogs to the parks. We eventually crossed the Puente Peatonal Dr. Alfredo Roque Vítolo, a brightly painted footbridge across the roadway that connects the parks around the Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes to the Universidad de Buenos Aires. The Facultad de Derecho subway station is located at the foot of the bridge. It is a terminus on the H-Line, one of Subte’s (from Subterráneo de Buenos Aires) six lines, that can get you nearly anywhere in this sprawling metropolis. Opened in 1913, Buenos Aires had the first subway in South America.

The Floralis Generica, a unique abstract aluminum sculpture, an iconic symbol of the city, centered the Plaza de las Naciones Unidas next to the school. The 23m (75ft) tall mechanical flower with six petals which opens in the morning and closes at night was a gift to the city by the Argentine architect Eduardo Catalano in 2002. Walking paths circled the sculpture and offered different viewing perspectives of the flower that the sculptor visualized to “represent all the flowers in the world.”

Walking back towards our hotel we veered down Avenida Alvear, seven blocks that were once Buenos Aire’s Park Ave or Champs-Élysées at the turn of the 20th century.  It is known for the art nouveau-influenced Belle Époque architecture of the old mansions along the street that have now been converted into hotels and embassies. Unfortunately, many of the building facades were hidden by the trees that line the street.

Long before Starbucks was a thing, the Porteños, “people of the port,” as the citizens of Buenos Aires are called, developed a strong coffee culture that coincided with the arrival of several waves of Italian immigrants that began in the mid-1800s. The result is a city where it’s nearly impossible to get a bad cup of coffee. One block over from Avenida Alvear on Av. Pres. Manuel Quintana our “walk a little then café” philosophy was easily satisfied at La Fleur de Sartí, Confiserié Monet, and Cafe Quintana 460, where espresso-based coffee drinks rule.

When we travel, our mid-afternoon lunch tends to be our big meal of the day, so we end up looking for supermarkets to buy crackers, cheese and fruit to snack on later. Near our hotel there was a large Carrefour Market on Av. Vicente López. Around the corner from the supermarket was a block of traditional shops with two butcheries, a fish monger, fruit stands, and a cheese store. Though our best find in the neighborhood was Möoi Recoleta, which had a pleasing interior and excellent food. To our surprise it’s part of a small local restaurant chain.

That afternoon we timed our visit to the Cementerio de la Recoleta after the surge of the morning’s tour buses had departed. It’s a huge cemetery with a labyrinth of narrow passages through the grand mausoleums of Buenos Aires’ who’s who of notable citizens and wealthy families.

Some were very well kept, while others were under renovation, and a number appeared forgotten, with their doors broken and façades crumbling, as if the family line had ended or a once great fortune had been lost. One was highlighted by a whimsical statue of a woman roller skating atop her own tomb.

Many had small bronze plaques attached to the side of their tomb, hinting at the deceased’s illustrious career. Several had death masks protruding from the side of their mausoleums. The first one we happened across suddenly as we rounded a corner, and the very life-like stone face protruding from the side of a tomb, literally scared the wits out of me.

Surprisingly, Evita Peron’s tomb was one of the simplest structures. Immortalized since the Broadway musical “Evita,” by Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice opened its curtain in 1976, and the following 1996 movie starring Madonna, folks have been intrigued by the controversial legacy of Eva Duarte. It is the rags to riches story of a poor country girl, the illegitimate daughter of a wealthy rancher, who moved at the age of 15 to Buenos Aires and found fame as a radio and film actress, which resonated in the barrios of the “Paris of South America.” She found love at the age of 26, marrying 48-year-old Colonel Juan Perón, in 1945, two years before he was elected President of Argentina.

Passionate and combative, as Argentina’s First Lady she used her influence to champion social justice and worker’s labor rights, and was endeared to the less fortunate who saw her as the voice of the people. Her early death at the age of 33 from cancer saddened the nation and calls were made for her canonization. Flags across the country flew at half-mast for ten days. Blocks around the Presidential Palace were filled with mourners, and an estimated 3 million people watched the horsedrawn caisson carry her coffin through the streets of the city during her state funeral. Her embalmed body in its glass coffin was displayed for two years in her office in the Ministry of Labor building, as plans for a memorial that was taller than the Statue of Liberty were made.

After a 1955 military coup Juan Perón fled to exile in Spain, and the new military dictatorship secretly disappeared Evita’s corpse for 16 years. First it was secreted away in various locations across Buenos Aires until one “officer mistakenly shot his pregnant wife while guarding the corpse in his attic.”  The military dictatorship then enlisted the “covert help of the Vatican” to hide her body away in a crypt in Milan, Italy’s famous Cimitero Monumentale, for 16 years under a false name. In protest “Where is the body of Eva Perón?” was spray painted on walls all across Argentina.

In 1971, Evita’s body was exhumed and flown to Spain where Juan Perón and his third wife allegedly kept the “coffin on display in their dining room.” In 1973 Peron returned to the Presidency of Argentina, with his third wife as Vice President, but died a year later. The saga continued to get weirder when an anti-dictator revolutionary group, the Montoneros, “stole the corpse of General Pedro Eugenio Aramburu, whom they had also previously kidnapped and assassinated,” to use as a bargaining chip to get the third Mrs. Peron to return Evita’s body to her beloved country. Subsequent governments have gone to great lengths to secure Evita’s hopefully final resting place, in a subterranean tomb with trap doors and false caskets to deter grave robbers, within her father’s Duarte family mausoleum in Cemeterio de la Ricoleto.

Across the street was the Gomero de la Recoleta – Árbol Histórico, a majestic 225-year-old rubber tree planted in 1800. Over the decades its huge buttress trunk has grown to support a 50m (164ft) wide canopy, with tree limbs so long that wooden poles and sculptures are needed to support their weight.

Behind it, we found a reprieve from the hot February afternoon, and an early dinner at Bartola, which served an excellent lemonade, and has pleasant décor along with a rooftop terrace.

Buenos Aires is full of interesting street murals, and we spent the next morning wandering about searching for them.

That afternoon, after exploring farther afield from our hotel, we took a rideshare across the city to La Boca, a colorful neighborhood that is also the location of La Bombonera stadium, home of the world-famous Boca Juniors football club, the team on which some of Argentina’s legendary football players first played. Our route eventually took us below the elevated portion of Rt1 amidst a forest of concrete pilings painted with a vast array of creative street murals in an area named Silos Areneros. We found the area intriguing, but a tad sketchy, so we kept going.

La Boca was originally Buenos Aires’ first port at the mouth of the Riachuelo River, as it flows into the Río de la Plata. It has always been a bustling working-class neighborhood, “filled with all kinds of people, dockworkers, fishermen, musicians, prostitutes, thieves, socialists, anarchists, and artists.” But it grew substantially with the arrival of new immigrants in the 1800s and early 1900s.  Hastily constructed tenements called conventillos were built with galvanized metal walls and roofs and brightly painted with whatever left over colors were available from the shipyards, in an effort to cheer up the area.

La Boca is one of the city’s vibrant neighborhoods where tango originated on its streets during the hot summer months and was perfected in the bars along Caminito and Magallanes during winters of the late 1800s.

Today, satirical figures adorn many of the balconies along Caminito and the adjacent streets, and poke fun at politicians, rival football teams or celebrities. Though we think you need to be Argentinian to fully appreciated the humor behind them.

A mural at the end of Caminito commemorates the Bomberos Voluntarios de La Boca (La Boca Volunteer Firefighters), Buenos Aires’ first fire brigade, formed in 1884.

Sadly, we found the wonderfully colorful area was oversaturated with cheap tourists’ shops heavily devoted to everything football, especially Lionel Messi’s #10 blue and white football shirt, which was available everywhere.

Afterwards we headed to the dockside area of Puerto Madero. Built in the late 18th century the port helped support Argentina’s economic growth during WWI and WWII as the country’s beef and food stocks were sent to a war-torn Europe. But the viability of the port declined as the size of merchant ships became larger and containerization took hold, until eventually the port was abandoned for many decades. A masterplan for the port’s redevelopment was realized in 1989 with plans to renovate some of the old warehouses along one side of the quay into restaurants and shops, while land on the other side would be developed into a mixed-use area of offices and residential towers, with the two sides connected by pedestrian-only bridge.

The redevelopment along the Puerto Madero waterfront was a great success and created a strikingly beautiful, new waterfront neighborhood. Its reflective skyline and restaurants along the old docks continue to be destinations for both locals and tourists. Us included! It was a great place to people watch as folks strolled along the quay and over the footbridge. Towering cumulonimbus clouds glowed with golden light, as the sunset silhouetted the “Presidente Sarmiento,” an old three-masted sailing ship that is now a nautical museum.

We both grew up in the suburbs of New Jersey and worked in New York City for a while, but living in Manhattan never appealed to us. It wasn’t until we started traveling and experienced living in some foreign cities through short-term rentals that we grew to appreciate the vitality that city life offers.

Mysteriously, overnight the Parque Intendente Torcuato de Alvear in front of the historic Centro Cultural Recoleta building was transformed into a sprawling art and crafts festival, that to our surprise happens every Saturday and Sunday. Artisans’ tents and tables lined nearly every path through the sprawling park that was filled with folks shopping and buskers playing to the crowd. This was probably the best crafts market we’ve been to, as the quality and variety of items offered were very impressive. If our suitcases had been bigger we would have made lots more purchases.

For many years the Cultural Center was repainted frequently with colorful murals, which added a nice flair to its otherwise stoic facade. Sadly, this policy was discontinued in 2024, and the building is now covered in a monochromatic “Pompeyan Red.” The decision has received a mixed public reaction, but hopefully the verdict will be reversed in the future. The historic 1732 building was originally the convent of the Recoleto monks, for whom the Recoleta neighborhood is named, as well as part of Our Lady of Pilar Basilica, the second oldest church in Buenos Aires. Over the decades as the influence of the church waned after Argentina’s 1810 May Revolution the building was used as a hospital, military barracks, asylum, and an art school before being renovated into an exhibits and events space in the 1980s.  

That afternoon the tree lined blocks around Plaza Serrano and Plaza Armenia in the charming Palmero Soho neighborhood were so different from the high-rise towers of Recoleta, and reminded us of Barcelona & Madrid, with the wonderful mix of sidewalk cafés, along with trendy shops. Colorful street murals brightened many of the narrow alleys.

Across from Plaza Armenia we passed the Las Petunias restaurant which was full of lively diners at lunchtime.  But we continued our wanderings and returned around 15:00 when the restaurant was quieter, though there were still enough other people dining to make it a nice experience. We shared Los Tablones de Carnes for two. The grilled meats were excellent, and it was the best parrillada we had during our stay in Buenos Aires.

Sunday, we headed to the Feria de San Telmo, a weekly street fair that spans eleven blocks of Av. Defensa, a street known for its antique stores and art galleries. San Telmo is one of the oldest neighborhoods in Buenos Aires and has striven to retain its 19th and early 20th century character with well-preserved buildings.

The street was full of activity, but the feira was really more like a flea market featuring clothing and everyday items with only a handful of artists’ and craftsperson’s tables mixed in between. Buskers worked the street corners, and a puppeteer dazzled a young audience. Occasionally a street mural graced a side street.

Along the way the ornate mausoleum of General Manuel Belgrano stood beneath the towers of Basílica Nuestra Señora del Rosario. The church was constructed in 1753 and British soldiers sought sanctuary here after a failed invasion of the city in 1807. General Belgrano was one of the founding fathers on Argentina’s independence and is also credited with designing the country’s flag.

The Mercado San Telmo was our destination for lunch. It is a cavernous hall set in an 1897 building that resembles a Victorian era train station with an ornate iron superstructure supporting a glass roof.  The hall’s traditional produce stands, butchers and bakers, now share the space with takeaway restaurants, and antique stalls. But it was crazy with activity on a Sunday afternoon, and we vowed to return if we had the chance. Instead, we ate at Havanna, a small café chain across Buenos Aires, that we had eaten at the day before in Palmero Soho, and enjoyed.

Tango dancers were mesmerizing a crowd with their graceful twists, turns, dips, and kicks at the Plaza Dorrego. Resting between dances, they encouraged folks to come forward and dance too. It was a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon, with a vibe totally different from the craft market in Retiro, and the shaded lanes of Palmero. Every August the city hosts the Buenos Aires Tango Festival & World Cup, a two weeklong dance-off, with concerts and shows where over 400 couples from around the world compete for the top spots in different categories.

The next day a rainy morning finally cleared as we were on our way to a three hour cooking class to learn how to make those savory pastry meat-filled turnovers called empanadas, and alfajores, a melt in your mouth layered shortbread-like cookie filled with dulce de leche.

Our hosts Tomas and Lala graciously welcomed nine of us into their home; we were from France, Norway, Switzerland, and the United States. The other participants, like us, we learned after introductions all around, were snowbirds escaping a cold northern winter.

Tango music played softly in the background as Tomas divided us into three groups of 4, 2 and 3, the odd man out joining Donna and me. It was very well organized, and Tomas led us through the mixing of ingredients and made sure we added just the right amount of water so the dough was kneadable, but not sticky. Everyone cut their balls of dough and rolled them out into taco size discs, not too thin or too thick. Lala provided a meat filling. The hardest part was crimping the edges of the dough together to seal in the filling. The gal next to us was very good at it and created bakery worthy pockets. The three of us had various aesthetic results, that would improve with practice. Brushed with an egg white, trays of empanadas were put into the oven to bake. The cookie batter was also quite easy to make. We sipped some mate (a traditional herbal drink with lots of caffeine) and got to know our tablemates as we waited for the empanadas. We can see why people like mate (pronounced mah-tay) but I think for us it would be an acquired taste. The empanadas were tender and tasty, though it was obvious which ones my fingers had molded, as they oozed from some thin spots in the crust. This was the first cooking class we’ve ever taken during our travels and found the whole experience, along with the shared camaraderie, very enjoyable.

The next morning, we pulled our luggage behind us as we strolled down Calle Florida, a 10 block long pedestrian walkway in the center of Buenos Aire’s shopping district that runs from the Plaza General San Martín to Plaza de Mayo. It was a very pleasant lane centered with rows of young shade trees, and intermittent sidewalk cafes along the edges. The Galerías Pacífico, an upscale glass domed shopping complex, was our destination.

With architectural inspiration taken from the Vittorio Emmanuelle II galleries in Milan, the 1889 building was designed to be a shopping experience akin to the Bon Marche stores in Paris. But a long economic recession in Argentina during the 1890s and early 1900s nixed its realization and the gallery area was used as part of the National Museum of Fine Arts, while the Ferrocarril Buenos Aires al Pacífico acquired part of the building for offices. The company’s presence eventually led it to being called the “Edificio Pacífico,” (Pacífico Building).

The famous domed lower level over what is now the food court was constructed during renovations in the 1940s and embellished with twelve spectacular murals by the artists Lino Eneas Spilimbergo, Antonio Berni, Juan Carlos Castagnino, Manuel Colmeiro, and Demetrio Urruchúa.

A hundred years later a 1990s renovation finally covered the galleries with a glass ceiling and the “Galerías Pacífico,” became the flagship of Buenos Aires’ shopping district. We really are not into mall shopping, but this is very nice, and an architecturally and culturally interesting spot that attracts a diversity of folks. It was the perfect spot for our “walk a little then café,” break before having an ice cream bar decorated with Lionel Messi’s blue and white uniform.  The Buquebus ferry terminal was only a short walk away for our crossing back to Uruguay and our flight home.

Buenos Aires is a sprawling city with 48 different neighborhoods and three million people. It is a great destination, and we only scratched the surface of the multitude of places to visit, and things to do within this vibrant city. In hindsight, we could have stayed several more days to explore the museums and government buildings, based ourselves in the Palermo neighborhood, and used the subway to get around.

Till next time,

Craig & Donna

A Road Trip Across Southern Uruguay: Colonia del Sacramento, Carmelo & Garzon or Colonial Charm, Wineries & a Ghost Town

| 2suitcasesfor2years

Montevideo’s skyline vanished quickly from our rearview mirror as we headed west on Rt 1, through rolling hills verdant from recent rains, into Uruguay’s burgeoning wine region. The road roughly paralleled the contour of the Río de la Plata. This large navigable body of water that separates Uruguay from Argentina is often called the widest river estuary in the world. Sheltered from the harsh seas and winds of the Southern Atlantic Ocean, it appealed to the Portuguese who, in 1680, landed 400 soldiers and cannons, along with stonecutters, carpenters, and craftsmen from five Galleons to found Colonia del Sacramento, on a small strategic peninsula. It was an attempt to deter Spain from expanding its Argentina colony, which had already established Fuerte de San Lázaro, a military outpost farther north near the Arroyo de las Vacas River in 1527. Spain later sent more settlers across the Río de la Plata to establish ranches in the vast pampas wilderness, around what today is the town of Carmelo, in 1611.

There was very little traffic on the road, and the two-and-half-hour trip flew by as we zipped past the occasional farm stand along the way. Nearing Colonia del Sacramento, a row of stately palm trees lined the thoroughfare. Entering the city, we drove down Gral. Flores, a wide tree-lined boulevard, past a colorful street mural and an inviting city park to the Posada Manuel Lobo, our hotel for two nights. The newer boutique hotel was nicely decorated in an old colonial theme, with beamed ceilings and antiques, and its location was perfect, just a block away from Colonia’s historic quarter. And with a hearty breakfast included, and free parking on the street, what else could we ask for?

A quick trip to a pharmacy took us past the first of several antique cars, from the 1930s and 40s, that seem to be parked intentionally across the town as interesting accent points, and the Café Rollito where we returned to later and ordered a luscious waffle topped with cream mixed with fruit. Their cappuccinos were also very good. The cars, as we learned, are called ‘cachilas,’ family heirlooms that were acquired in the early 20th century when Uruguay’s economy boomed from exports of beef and wheat to a war-torn Europe.

Imports nearly ceased when the country’s economy collapsed in the late 1950’s. Out of necessity family cars were lovingly maintained, and passed down through the generations, and repeatedly repaired until they couldn’t be. They reflect the country’s strong family ties, work ethic and nostalgia for simpler times. 

Afterwards we walked into the historic quarter, which is roughly defined by the footprint of the ramparts that once encircled this small frontier outpost. Only the citadel’s gateway, the Puerta de la Ciudadela, and a small section of the fortress’s defensive wall have been preserved. But the original irregular layout of the 17th century cobbled lanes still exists, and weaves between rows of Portuguese era colonial buildings.

The citadel was attacked and captured by Spain several times, only to be returned to Portugal by various treaties. Spain’s “Laws of the Indies,” which required towns to be designed in a “checkerboard” grid pattern, wasn’t imposed on the growing town until it became a Spanish possession with the Treaty of San Ildefonso in 1777.

The afternoon was surprisingly hot, reaching 38C (100F). We thought we had timed our trip to coincide with the more temperate weather of Uruguay’s fall, but during our 16 days in the country the weather was unseasonably hot. 

We wandered the shaded lanes of the historic district for a while before heading back to the hotel for a siesta. Later we headed to the Vista del Atardecer, a short waterfront promenade that is a popular spot to sip maté tea, and watch the sunset over the Río de la Plata. It was off this point in 1763 that cannon fire from the fort sank the British privateer Lord Clive as it attacked the town. The surviving pirates were tried and hung. In 2004 the sunken ship was located, and efforts to raise money to finance the salvage of its rumored treasure are underway. The late ferry from Buenos Aires was silhouetted against the fiery sunset as it set below the horizon. Over the horizon Buenos Aires lies only 59km (37mi) away and takes only an hour and a quarter to reach by ferry.  

Later we visited the Basílica del Santísimo Sacramento. It’s often considered the oldest church in Uruguay because the 1810 building that stands today was built over the ruins of a smaller stone church built in 1699 atop the site where the colony’s first adobe and straw chapel was erected in 1680.  

Across the lane we had dinner outside at ¡Qué Tupé! It has a very colorful interior, but the evening was cooler, and we chose a table outside on the plaza, under trees strung with lights. We both enjoyed wonderfully tender and flavorful steaks for dinner, along with glasses of Tanat, Uruguay’s signature wine.

The next day we crossed the citadel’s old drawbridge and walked along the remants of the San Miguel Bastion. We continued down rough stone lanes lined with colorful time worn pastel buildings covered in bougainvillea. At the Museo de Colonia we decided to go inside when we spotted a huge skeleton of a blue whale while peeking through a gate to the museum’s courtyard.

We discussed ticket options with the attendant in the lobby, whether to purchase individual tickets or the pass that allowed us to visit all the museums in Colonia. We opted for the multi-museum pass but after purchasing we were frustrated to learn that only the ticket lobby and not the museum itself was open that day.

Aside from the Museo de Colonia, most of the museums in Colonia are very small, with only 2-3 rooms, but we were able to use our pass at the Nacarello House, a 1700s era home, and the Museo Naval which had a tiny collection focusing on the town’s nautical heritage.

Reflections from the lighthouse beacon glistened on the still wet pavement as we strolled to Charco Bistró. The 34m (112ft) Colonia del Sacramento Lighthouse has guided sailors on the Río de la Plata since 1850 when it was erected on the highest spot in the town. We rarely make reservations, and the restaurant was full of people still leery of the weather, but a table was found for us. The pleasant but overworked staff contributed greatly to a very nice dining experience on our last night in Colonia.

Following Rt 21, we headed north to Carmelo, an hour away. The C’ars International Museum was along the route. It has a modest collection of cachilas, the oldest being a 1929 REO. The museum also features nostalgic recreations, using restored original materials, of early 20th-century settings, such as a pharmacy, gas station, and barber shop. A little farther up the road there was an abandoned colonial era church. The stone building was quite large, but unfortunately there wasn’t a historical placard outside, and we haven’t been able to find any information about it.

Our morning sun had faded by the time we crossed a historic old swing bridge over the Arroyo de las Vacas into Carmelo. The gray overcast day gave the deserted streets of the quiet town the feeling of being a forgotten colonial backwater. This ambiance was reinforced when the first traffic we encountered was a horse drawn farm cart cantering down the street as we parked at the Rambla de los Constituyentes, a riverfront promenade, to get a better view of the bridge. It’s a pretty park with terraces along the water and an ivy-covered arbor dedicated to Dionysus, the god of wine making.

The swing bridge was built in Cologne, Germany, shipped to Uruguay, and then reassembled across the river in 1912. It had at the time a unique hand-operated mechanism that turned the center part of the bridge parallel to the riverbank, so larger merchant vessels could still access the warehouses along the upper reaches of the river, and load cash crops for export. From the riverport there is ferry service from Carmelo to Tigre, Argentina, several days a week.

Driving through town we stopped at the Plaza Artigas where under waving flags a statue commemorated General José Gervasio Artigas, who founded Carmelo in 1816. The area’s history dates back to 1527, when the Spanish built the Fuerte de San Lázaro, a small wooden fortress near the mouth of the Arroyo de las Vacas River. But a concerted effort to colonize the area wasn’t made until settlers were given cattle to bring into the wilderness grassland in 1611. But before leaving Carmelo we indulged our “drive a little then café” philosophy with very good coffee and pastry at Amor Café. There were a few newer buildings in Carmelo, but generally time seems to have stopped in the town.

We came up to Carmelo, the oldest wine producing region in Uruguay, to visit some of its highly touted wineries, known for their Tannat, Merlot, and Chardonnay wines. The area’s subtropical climate and diverse soils create a unique terroir that allows winemakers to cultivate a wide range of grapes.

Our first tasting for the afternoon was at El Legado, a small boutique winery, with four guest rooms and a restaurant, that produces only 4,000 bottles of wine a year. It is named to honor Bernardo Marzuca’s father, who dreamed of establishing a family winery. María Marta Marzuca and her son welcomed us warmly, and shared the history of winery – it has only been open since 2007 – before giving us an interesting tour through the winery, as well as the vineyard, where the grapes had been harvested the week before. In the small wine cellar, bottles from particularly good vintages were signed with the name of people who had bought them, but left them there to age.

Our tasting included their three red wines; Syrah, Tannat, and a Tannat/Syrah blend, along with a Viogner, an aromatic and fruity white wine. The accompanying hearty charcuterie board with artisanal cheeses, salamis, and bread was excellent, as were the wines. It was a very pleasant experience and we wished we could have lingered more, but we had booked a later tasting that day at the Bodega Zubizarreta, where we would be staying for the night.

We followed a road through gently rolling farmland past the Zubizarreta winery to the Calera de las Huérfanas, the ruins of a large Spanish Jesuit mission. It existed from 1741 until 1767, when all the Jesuits were expelled from the Spanish Empire, and their lands were seized by the crown. But during that brief time it was a self-sustaining community of 250 people that included priests, colonialists, indigenous Charrúa natives, and slaves who operated four clay kilns which produced limestone and the bricks that were used for building the site’s chapel.

In addition, they ran a blacksmith shop and bakery, farmed the land, tended animals, and made wine from 1500 grape vines, which were the founding of Uruguay’s wine industry. After its confiscation it was used as the College of Orphan Girls of Buenos Aires, and then forgotten after it was destroyed in the early 1800s by Brazilian forces when a state of undeclared war existed between Uruguay and Brazil.

Grapes still hung from a decorative arbor as we made our way into the courtyard of the Zubizarreta Winery and were greeted by Mariela Zubizarreta, the daughter of the matriarch that now owns the wine estate that was started four generations ago by her grandfather in 1957, a Basque immigrate with “nothing to lose.”

From their large vineyard they harvest nine different varietals and bottle 12 fine red, white and rosé wines. And as a commercial vineyard they also fill 5 gallon damajuanas with an excellent house wine for restaurants across the region.

We finished our tasting as the sun began its slow afternoon descent and cast a warm glow across the vineyard. Mariela showed us our room in Aitona’s House, the old family home which dates from the early 1900s, one end of which has been transformed into a lovely period furnished, large one-bedroom suite. Handing us the key, she relayed that the winery was now closed for the day, and that we would have the estate to ourselves for the night. “A nightwatchman will arrive later. See you in the morning.” We sipped wine as the sun set across the vineyard.   

The next morning was a transition day for us, and we set out on our longest drive of our road trip through southern Uruguay. Driving from Carmelo to Minas would take 4.5 hours, but with stops along the way it would take us all day.

We backtracked on Rt21 before turning east off Rt1 past Colonia del Sacramento onto east Rt11 through sleepy towns and expansive farmlands that were completely flat to the horizon. In San José de Mayo we stopped to photograph a monument to the Motorcycle Club of Uruguay, which for us, channeled the book and movie the Motorcycle Diaries, which portrays a young Che Guevara’s journey to discover the essence of South America in 1952, before he became a ruthless revolutionary.

Passing through the city of Santa Lucia, we found a restaurant on Google Maps across from the town’s central plaza. The Paseo Bistro turned out to be atop the  Supermercado El Paseo, a very large two-story grocery and department store, that has a hardware department and appliance center, along with a very popular restaurant with a rooftop terrace. The bistro was very busy at lunchtime, full of families and professionals. Ordering was from a picture menu above the kitchen, where our meal was freshly prepared. A restaurant pager alerted us when our food was ready. We were pleasantly surprised at the quality of our lunch as well as its reasonable price.

From Santa Lucia we continued east on Rt81. The route now rose through gently rolling hills spectacled with small patches of forests. Just before reaching the village of Montes I suddenly slowed and did a U-turn. “Why are we turning around?” Donna asked. “Did you see those dinosaurs?” “You’re delusional and should drink more water to stay hydrated!” “I only need to run faster than you,” I chuckled. The Parque de los Dinosaurios was at the end of a two-track lane, where a man and woman were sunning in their yard. With our lack of Spanish, we pointed and expressed an interest in seeing the dinosaurs up close.  As we learned from the man’s wife he single-handedly created this whimsical playland and picnic area filled with colorful prehistoric creatures. It’s definitely a Uruguayan roadside oddity that was a fun stop.

Driving into the center of Minas we passed a number of interesting street murals on the way to the Plaza Libertad, a classic Spanish square with an equestrian statue that celebrates the Lavalleja Department’s gaucho heritage, and a reflecting pool surrounded by palm trees that faces the neoclassical designed Catedral de la Inmaculada Concepción de Minas, which dates from 1892.

After an early dinner we headed to our accommodation for the night at the Valle de Domos, a small eco-friendly, sustainable resort where the individual cone-shaped cottages were constructed with earthen bags.

But before leaving Minas we made one last stop at the Museo de Réplicas en Miniatura. It’s a small private museum/workshop in the home of Horacio and Mirta Chocho. Horacio, a retired mechanic, met us at the gate to his yard and explained with no ifs, ands, and buts that his presentation takes a full 45 minutes and that he wasn’t interested in sharing his work unless we agreed to stay till the end. The man is definitely a mechanical genius and created his working models of cars, trucks, tractors and trains, along with various other items from found objects.

Twilight was descending when we reached the Valle de Domos. Though we had a confirmed reservation the manager was not expecting us, and was reluctant to let us stay, even though they had vacancies, until a phone call to the owner rectified the situation. We love these sort of alternative housing solutions and had a comfortable one-night stay. Sun light filled the tiny kitchen the next morning as we made coffee. There are several larger cone shaped cottages at the resort with 2-4 bedrooms and living rooms. If we had stayed longer, we would have chosen a larger unit.

Though we had a kitchen, we only had the makings for instant coffee and a few snacks, so we started the day in pursuit of a real breakfast and a good cup of java, which unfortunately was a little more challenging than expected. The hours and open days listed for the cafes on our online maps were incorrect. We realized this when the owner of Penitente Station, a unique restaurant in an old railroad car positioned atop a ridge in the Sierra de Minas, turned us away, but did let us admire the panoramic view from the railcar.

Fortunately nearby, everything was fully operational when we arrived at Salto del Penitente, a large state park with a zip line course, that is known for its spectacular rainy season waterfall. The park’s excellent restaurant with an open terrace overlooks Uruguay’s tallest waterfall, which drops 60m (200ft) through a narrow gorge below the granite rock face of Salto del Penitente, into a lagoon that’s a popular spot to swim. But the water flow was low and the stream was hidden away in its crevice. We did enjoy watching birds of prey soaring on the updrafts, two Pampas foxes, and several large black and white tegu lizards, which can grow to four feet in length, scattering from one shady spot to the next.

From here we were cutting across the rugged Sierra de Minas region to the South Atlantic coast at Faro de José Ignacio, 252 miles east of Carmelo. The excellent state roads we followed were all paved, numbered and well signed, until we turned to Garzon, where the blacktop suddenly became hard-packed dirt.  These wide, well maintained dirt roads coursed through a vast nearly unpopulated area that took us near Uruguay’s highest point, the 513.66 m (1,685.2 ft) tall Cerro Catedral. Though it really wasn’t noticeably distinguishable from the surrounding landscape.

Pueblo Garzón is an old frontier-like ranching community that was founded in the early 1900s, and was a boom town on the Central Uruguay Rail Line, which took the rancher’s cattle to the port of Montevideo for export. When the pueblo achieved the status of being a town in 1935, it had 470 inhabitants. With the economic downturn that engulfed Uruguay after WW2, partially as a result of the economy relying too heavily on beef exports, the train service to Garzón ended. An exodus of people began and by the 1970s Garzon was considered a ghost town. We good picture tumbleweed blowing through the town.

In 2003 the internationally renowned chef Francis Mallmann fell in love with the tranquility of the area and renovated the town’s abandoned general store into the El Garzón, a small restaurant and boutique inn. His signature horno, a large clay oven, surrounded by piles of stacked wood dominates the old wrap-around porch where ranch supplies once stood. Several small galleries, a café, and another inn soon followed.

The town’s prospects really began to increase in 2016 when Bodega Garzón, a large ultramodern, sustainably built winery with 524 acres of vineyards, was opened. It was envisioned by Alejandro P. Bulgheroni, the Argentine billionaire and wine entrepreneur, to be “the most emblematic winery of modern viticulture in Uruguay, creating premium wines with an intense personality and a deep sense of belonging to the land.” Since then, grapes harvested from 1200 different plots, which take advantage of the estates’ different microclimates, have created wines which have consistently won awards, and it has become a destination for wine enthusiasts and bon vivants from around the world.

It was serendipitously Valentines Day and El Garzón was the perfect place to celebrate.

Faro de José Ignacio was only 30 minutes and a whole world away.

Till next time,

Craig & Donna

Montevideo: Feria, Murals & Carnaval – The Antidote for our North America “Winter Blues.”

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A clearing storm covered Uruguay’s Atlantic Coast as we landed at Carrasco International Airport on the outskirts of Montevideo. We were ten minutes into our forty-minute Uber ride into Ciudad Vieja, the old town section of Montevideo, when the masts of several catamarans poked above the tree line that obscured our view of the oceanfront. Our driver proudly boasted that the country has nearly 660km (410mi) of pristine beach-covered coastline along the Río de la Plata and the South Atlantic Ocean. But the real pride and joy of Montevideanos is La Rambla of Montevideo, a wide coastal esplanade that runs for 22km (14mi) along the city’s waterfront, “one of the longest continuous sidewalks in the world.”

Our ride into the city soon started to follow La Rambla’s serpentine route along the coast, past folks, at the end of the workday, flocking to its breezy shoreline to enjoy all sorts of activities from rollerblading to kite surfing. Several beach areas also had bandstands where musicians were drawing good size audiences. Lovers snuggled on the seawalls, amidst swimmers emerging from the ocean, games of soccer, joggers, aerobic classes, personal trainers, cyclists, sun worshippers, and walkers carrying their ubiquitous Mate carryalls. Enjoying socializing with friends on La Rambla is an important part of life in Uruguay’s capital, where the city’s 1.4 million residents, nearly 40% of the country’s population, have an open invitation to “The Outdoor Living Room of Montevideo.” Come sunset there seemed to be collective quieting as folks stopped to watch the sun sink below the horizon. We could already tell that this could be the antidote for our North America “winter blues.”

The next morning, we were up before sunrise to stroll along the oceanfront, hoping to catch the first rays of sunlight cast across the city. From our room at Hotel NH Montevideo Columbia, we could see seven freighters making their way to port, and the remnants of an old defensive tower. It was part of the quickly built ramparts that once encircled the citadel soon after the Spanish founded the city in 1726, to thwart Portuguese expansion southward along the coast from Brazil.

Street art and sculptures that were a blur yesterday as we sped by were now full of detail. In some places along the esplanade there were images of dinosaurs on relief plaques implanted into the sidewalk that suggested the region’s fauna 85 million years ago.

We reached Playa Ramirez, a large crescent-shaped beach as the sun was breaching the trees and shining upon the city’s modest skyline. A large group of cyclists preparing for the upcoming Vuelta Ciclista del Uruguay sped by. Two women stood in the water and let the gentle morning waves lap around their ankles as they chatted.

Across from the beach was Parque Jose Enrique Rodó. A large sculpture in the center of the park is dedicated to the Montevideo-born philosopher and essayist, who wrote about Latin America pursuing its own cultural identity and spiritual renewal, and the dangers of unbridled materialism.

We started our loop back towards the Ciudad Vieja down one of the park’s palm-lined paths and zig zagged our way through barrios full of colorful street murals, and older 1900’s era buildings with interesting architectural details.

Walking through Barrio Sur along Isla de Flores, bleachers were being set up at the intersections in preparation for one of the last parades of Carnaval. The street was lined with murals dedicated to the local comparsas, large groups of 50-100 candombe drum performers and dancers, who participate in the yearly festival. We spent some time determining a good vantage point for watching the parade later in the week.

The grand Plaza Independencia was a huge contrast to modest barrios we had walked through earlier that morning. In the park’s center a large equestrian statue stands atop the Masoleum of José Gervasio Artigas, a gaucho, military leader, and revolutionary who inspired Uruguayans to fight against Spanish and Portuguese rule. He is considered the father of Uruguay’s liberation movement, though he did not live long enough to see the country’s independence in 1828.

A vast array of different architectural styles can be seen on the buildings around the plaza, but the most intriguing is the chaotic styling of the 27-story tall Palacio Salvo, which eclectically blends elements of Art Nouveau, Art Deco, Gothic, and Renaissance architecture into its design. The iconic mixed-use building has shops, offices, apartments and the Museo del Tango. It was for a short period of time after its completion in 1928 the tallest building in South America.

At the opposite end of the plaza the Puerta de la Ciudadela, one of the old gateways into the colonial citadel, is all that remains of a tall stone defensive wall that was 6 meters (20ft) thick, and totally encircled the small peninsula where Spain established its first colony in Uruguay. After Uruguay gained its independence the demolition of the citadel’s ramparts started in 1829, less than 100 years after their construction, to make room for the growing port city’s expansion.

The old gateway opened to Sarandí, the main pedestrian lane that runs from one end of Ciudad Vieja to the other. At the beginning of the lane was Montevideo’s Walk of Fame, where stars of famous visitors to the city, like Nelson Mandela, the Rolling Stones, Enrique Iglesias, and Olga Delgrossi, Uruguay’s beloved singer and tango dancer, were imbedded in the pavement with sun bursts above their names.  Now mid-afternoon, the day had warmed, and the street was full of vendors under colorful umbrellas, selling all sorts of items geared for tourists.

We wrapped up our day’s wandering about at the Montevideo Metropolitan Cathedral, or as it is formally called the Catedral Metropolitana de la Inmaculada Concepción y San Felipe y Santiago.  In 1790 the construction of the cathedral was started to accommodate a growing congregation in the prosperous city, which had outgrown its first smaller brick church, which was built on the same site in 1740. Inside were some very nice pieces of religious art.

The next morning we continued exploring the old town and watched a wedding party throw rice upon a newly married couple at the Registry Office. We only noticed a sculpture of Montevideo’s version of Romeo and Juliet when a crowd in front of us was pointing up to a balcony. “Our walk a little then café,” routine was satisfied with breakfast at Federación, an artesanal panaderia and café, with tables on the sidewalk and in a small courtyard. It was on the way to several museums we planned to visit, before having a late lunch at one of the steakhouses in the Mercado del Puerto.

Montevideo has over twenty museums that span the spectrum from art and science to tango and carnaval. Around the corner from the café, in a 19th century building, was the Pre-Columbian and Indigenous Art Museum. It is a relatively small museum, but it has an interesting collection of archeological artifacts and an extensive collection of Carnaval masks from across Latin America.

Everything about the South American cowboy can be viewed at the Museo del Gaucho and Currency. It occupies a stately old bank building which in itself is worth poking your head into, but the immense scale of the building overpowers the exhibits of small objects used in the South American cowboy’s everyday life. Many of the fine silver items on display were from the estates of wealthy ranch owners.

The currency exhibit was okay, but we think you really have to admire a country that puts an armadillo on one of their coins. There was also a collection of coins recovered from the wreck of the Spanish galleon El Preciado, which was sunk in Río de la Plata by pirates in 1792, as it sailed for Spain carrying gold and silver to pay the taxes levied against the South America colonies.

Artistic street murals can be found all across Montevideo and we passed several interesting ones on the way to the Museo de las Migraciones. We really enjoyed this museum as it celebrates the country’s diverse population of its immigrants who contributed to making Uruguay the wonderful place that it is. The exhibits confirm the belief that most folks have more in common than what separates us.

It was a long walk back towards the Mercado del Puerto. The cast-iron and glass roofed structure was imported from Liverpool, England, and feels a little like a Victorian era train station; it opened for its first customers in 1868. The old port market used to be the central place to buy supplies, fruits, produce, meats, and fish, but has now been gentrified into an atmospheric food hall, where steakhouses reign supreme, and charge a hefty price for being convenient for the cruise ships passengers which disembark at the port. That being said, we enjoyed the ambience of open wood-fired parrillas, and wafting aromas rising from the various kitchens. It was a challenge to choose a restaurant, as all the dishes that waiters whisked by us looked delicious and tempting.

Later in the week we returned to the area to attend a tablado at the Museo del Carnaval, which also had a great collection of imaginative costumes from past carnavals. As the actors readied themselves for the performance, an announcer stepped forward. There were lots of Spanish words, followed by “Donna DiMeo Hammell” and more Spanish. I speculated that we had won the Uruguayan Lottery.  Or “maybe I’ve been chosen to participate, but I don’t speak Spanish!” Donna’s first thought was, wow, they pronounced my name correctly! The mystery was solved when Donna approached the offstage area, and a smiling theater employee handed her the credit card she had unknowingly dropped earlier.

Tablados are temporary neighborhood stages set up across Montevideo where colorful theatrical and musical performances are put on by groups of actors called Murgas, known for their satirical and humorous songs, who are joined by groups of Parodistas who are recognized for their entertaining parodies of well-known stories or events.

Tablados performances only happen during the carnaval season in Uruguay, which runs for forty days between mid-January and mid-March in Uruguay. The performance we attended lasted two hours and had eight different skits. If you cannot attend one of the carnaval parades in Montevideo the tablados are extremely funny and entertaining and you don’t need to understand Spanish to thoroughly enjoy them. They are also very inexpensive.

Walking back through the newer part of Montevideo the next morning we strolled along

Av. 18 de Julio. The street is named for the day in 1830 when the Uruguayan Constitution was ratified, and is the city’s busiest street with numerous stores, restaurants and bars along its length. At the intersection of Av. Carlos Quijano was the Fuente de los Candados,

the Fountain of the Padlocks. It seems every city has one of these landmarks where couples announce their love by hanging a lock on the metalwork; many of these were engraved with names, dates, or sentiments. What’s unique about this one is that it surrounds a fountain where folks also throw coins to make a wish.

Next to the fountain was a couple busking for tips as they tango danced in front of a café. This was the only time we saw tango dancing in Montevideo, even though the city shares credit with Buenos Aires as the birthplace of the dance. The scarcity of dancers might have been because we were there during carnaval season, and so many other events were happening then.  

Nearby was the Mirador Panorámico de la Intendencia de Montevideo. It’s an open-air viewing platform on the 22nd floor of the headquarters building of the Municipality of Montevideo. Montevideo does not have a very interesting skyline, but the view was expansive, and you can see the port and how La Rambla follows the twists and turns of the coast. There is a small café inside at the mirador. We didn’t find it to be a “must do,” destination, and would suggest trying to time your visit to the mirador around sunset, if possible, to make it more spectacular.

Afterwards we decided to expand our wanderings around the city, and we walked many blocks to the Mercado Agrícola de Montevideo, a historic city market that dates from 1913. We bought some fruit and empanadas for lunch. The most interesting part of our walk was around the Palacio Legislativo, a neoclassical building that is the seat of the Uruguayan parliament. The building’s iconic architecture stands in stark contrast to the large heart felt murals portraying local Montevideans, and the writer Kurt Vonnegut.

Over the weekend the Llamadas parade, one of the largest during carnaval, was taking place Friday and Saturday night in Barrio Sur. The parade celebrates the Afro-Uruguayan culture in the country with numerous comparsas, large groups of 50-100 festively dressed drummers who play traditional candombe rhythms for their dancers who perform along the street ahead of them.

Our Uber driver dropped us as close as possible to the viewing spot we had scoped out earlier in the week. But the streets were full of activity, with roads blocked for charter buses carrying various comparsas and staging areas where the dancers and drummers readied their groups.

We didn’t know advance ticket purchase was required, so we were totally surprised when the intersections were cordoned off and only tickets holders were allowed onto the sidewalks along Isla de Flores street. Fortunately, the area we had chosen had one small section that was open, and we jammed in, shoulder to shoulder, along with several hundred other folks with the same idea, to watch the parade. Folks next to us cautioned us about losing our phones to grab and run thieves, but we never felt uncomfortable in the crowd.

Carnaval in Montevideo is not as elaborate spectacle as in Rio de Janeiro where huge floats dominate the night. We didn’t last until the end of the parade, but it was a hugely fun, very authentic grassroots event that we thoroughly enjoyed. A few blocks off the parade route at Restaurante Palermo Viejo we shared our first chivito. These are huge, layered sandwiches that contain churrasco steak, ham, bacon, mozzarella cheese, lettuce, tomato, and a fried egg on top. The tasty creation was very filling, and it is often referred to as Uruguay’s national dish.

The next morning after a luscious breakfast at El Copacabana, in the old town, we took an Uber over to the Feria de Tristan Narvaja, a Sunday street market that stretches for seven long blocks through the Cordon neighborhood. It features a multitude of vendors selling everything imaginable, along with secondhand clothing, used books, fresh produce, and artist’s handcrafted creations.

Following our “walk a little then café” philosophy we took a break at El Imperio, an eclectically decorated bar, where the barista between serving inside customers ran trays of espressos out to the vendors on the street. We thought the feria was one of the more interesting ones we’ve experienced during our travels and think it’s a must-do activity when visiting Montevideo, if you like this sort of event.

Later that morning we headed to the airport and picked up a rental car we had reserved at Localiza Aquiler de Autos, a very good local agency with reasonable rates, for our 12 day road trip, which we were starting the next day. But first we had one more thing to do locally, and we drove an hour north into the countryside outside of Montevideo. Nearly forty percent of Uruguay’s population lives in Montevideo, but the city’s urban sprawl quickly transformed into gently rolling farmlands and vineyards as we drove through the Canelones region to the Cabaña La Mansedumbre, a rustic, under-the-radar destination restaurant. We eventually turned down a sandy dirt road. A small weather-worn sign hung from the cattle gate across the twin tracks that led to Fredy and Silvana’s ranch. When making our reservation, he had reminded us to close the gate securely so his goats wouldn’t escape.

We were the first guests to arrive that afternoon and were warmly welcomed into the courtyard of the couple’s rural farm stead. A tour of the open-air kitchen followed where we met Fredy’s son Juan, as he was preparing charcuterie boards under an array of sausages and cheeses hanging from the rafters. Heat emanated from a brick oven in the corner. Two large golden tortilla de papas cooled on a countertop under shelves laden with jars or homemade sauces, jams, and jellies. Baskets of fresh bread and rolls which Silvana had baked that morning tempted us with their wonderful aroma. 

Very enthusiastically Fredy explained that everything they use to prepare their dinners is sourced within a 5-mile radius of their farm. Though many items, like the goat cheeses, were made by his neighbor using the goat milk from Fredy’s herd, while the tanat wine we were offered, as we waited for the other guests to arrive, came from a friend’s vineyard at the other end of the road. Bottles of grappa that Fredy had infused with herbs lined a shelf above wine casks which flowed freely all afternoon.

Neither has trained as a chef, but they both share a passion for food and travel which has inspired them to refine their skills over the years, and now share their enthusiasm for great food at their home on the weekends. Seeing their farming community’s potential they have encouraged their purveyors to provide new and different sausages, cheeses, and produce than what was traditionally available in the past.

With everyone’s arrival we were seated at tables under their tinned roof porch. We were hoping to experience a traditional Uruguayan asado, but grilling meats on the parrilla was not part of the gourmet eight course feast that the couple had planned.

Our initial disappointment faded quickly as amazingly delicious dishes emerged from that simple country kitchen for nearly three hours that afternoon. Every dish was uniquely flavored, excellently prepared and presented. Coffee, dessert and grappa crowned the dinner. We wish we had taken notes, but photos of some of the dishes will have to suffice. 

The dinner was nicely paced, with plenty of time to talk with the other guests and enjoy the wine between courses. It was a memorable afternoon, and an excellent farm to table dining experience, along with being the best meal we had while visiting Uruguay.

For reservations Fredy and Silvana can be contacted through phone & WhatsApp +598 99 390 054.

Montevideo consistently ranks as the top city in Central and South America for quality of life. We thought it was a great destination, especially during Carnaval and it exceeded our expectations.

Till next time,

Craig & Donna

P.S. Our 12 day road trip through Uruguay started the next day.

During our stay, Donna had horrible hacking cough, that was so concerning one night we called the reception desk at NH Montevideo Columbia to ask for advice. The hotel, to our relief, had a physician on-call who made a late-night visit to our room. After an initial exam the doctor wrote a prescription for a chest x-ray in the emergency room at The British Hospital, a private hospital in downtown Montevideo. Fortunately, it was a quiet night at the hospital, and we were attended to quickly after checking in. We had a good experience there, the x-rays were negative for lung infection, and the hospital visit was totally covered by our travel insurance.

Street parking everywhere in Uruguay is free!

Peru: The Inti Raymi Festival – An Ancient Celebration Revived

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The precision stone masonry of ancient Inca craftsmen lined narrow alleys, and slowly began to come to life with Quechuan women dressed in their colorful attire. They were clutching baby llamas and claiming spots to pose for photos with tourists. It would be a busy day. The Plaza de Armas, the historic center of Cusco, would soon be packed with spectators for the Inti Raymi Festival.

This nine day long ancient Inca ritual traditionally celebrated the Sun God, Inti, on the winter solstice in the southern hemisphere, June 21st, but is now observed on the feast day of Saint John the Baptist, June 24th, in an attempt to blend beliefs. The celebration marks the beginning of a new life cycle with the approach of Spring and warmer weather for the planting of crops to begin another agricultural year. We wanted to scope out the plaza early and find a spot with an unobstructed view of the activities.

In ancient times the ritual began at Coricancha the Temple of the Sun, now the Convent of Santo Domingo since the Spanish conquest of Peru. Talented astronomers, the Inca built the temple in the 1400s for one portal to celestially align with the rising sun on the winter solstice and brilliantly fill the gold covered interior with light.  

After watching the sunrise and receiving this blessing, the Inca ruler as the Sun God’s earthly representative would thank the Sun God for the last year’s harvest and request his light shine upon the Inca Empire favorably for another year.

He was then carried ceremonially on his throne atop the shoulders of warriors across Cusco, followed by other members of the royal Inca family, the mummified remains of previous Inca emperors and delegates from hundreds of different tribes that inhabited the vast Inca Empire that spanned from Columbia, Ecuador, Bolivia, Chile, from the Pacific coast over the Andes to the Amazon jungle, representing a rainbow of people, a theme that today is incorporated into the city flag of Cusco.

Conquistador Francisco Pizarro captured Atahuallpa, the 13th and last Inca emperor. Atahuallpa offered a room filled with treasure for his freedom, and the Spanish accepted. The walls of Coricancha and other temples across the Inca Empire were stripped of their gold and silver, which was then melted into bullion and sent to Spain on the famous treasure fleets that plied the Atlantic from 16th to the 18th century. The Spanish executed the Emperor when he refused to convert to Christianity in 1533.

The Spanish banned the Inti Raymi as a pagan event. But the tradition went underground and was observed in secret, in isolated villages throughout the Andes. The festival was revied in 1944, mostly due to the efforts of two proud Quechuans, Faustino Espinoza Navarro (a scholar and artist) and Humberto Vidal Unda (a future mayor of Cusco and a leader of the Indigenismo movement, which advocated for native political involvement.)

Researching historic chronicles such as Royal Commentaries of the Inca by Garcilaso de la Vega (1612), the illustrated book The First New Chronicle and Good Government by Felipe Guamán Poma de Ayala (1615) and a manuscript by friar Martín de Murúa, The Historia General del Piru (1616), that also contains illustrations, Navarro created a script and Unda envisioned the theatrical staging for a cast of 800 performers.

The event has grown over time and now includes 25,000 participants drawn from hundreds of Peruvian indigenous groups, who dress in their unique regional garments parade, dance, and sing their way through Cusco and the Plaza de Armas. They then continue uphill to the ruins of Sacsayhuaman fortress, overlooking Cusco.

In this open expanse above the city roughly 80,000 people gather to watch all the participants fill the field for the grand finale, which depicts simulated animal sacrifices, pledges of loyalty to the Inca emperor from all the tribes, and final offerings to the Sun God. This is the second largest festival in South America, after Carnival. It was a dynamic and colorful event that was a joy to experience.

Till next time,

Craig & Donna

Two Hundred Fifty-Three Days on the Road

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cropped-img_4837The good news is we haven’t killed each other, though there have been times that I’ve dreamt a pillow was hovering over my head. Just kidding.  We have gone from the two of us working six days a week while living in an eight-room house, to being together 24/7 with only a suitcase each.  Boy did we downsize! It was challenging: what not to bring, considering all the seasonal changes we have encountered.  Don’t laugh, but I have thermals, wool hats and gloves packed, just on the off chance we get snowed in on a mountain pass in the French Alps, this July.  Yes, there’s also a flask of medicinal whisky packed in the bags for emergencies.  And to my wife’s amusement, a cheap plastic fly swatter.  Tragically the backup swatter was left behind in Antigua.  In Lisbon I finally caved in and bought a pair of slippers because the floors of the stone buildings just don’t retain any heat in the winter.  The comfort of a pair of slippers in the evening, after a long day of walking, can’t be underestimated.IMG_8406It’s been a huge but surprisingly easy transition for us. 253 days ago (I thought I was writing this at around day 200, it’s easy to lose track of time on the road) we slammed the door shut on our storage pod, locked it, and popped open a bottle of champagne to celebrate our impending journey. We haven’t looked back.  Ecuador, Guatemala, Cuba and now Portugal; I can’t imagine undertaking this adventure with anyone else.

The Airbnb revolution has greatly contributed to our concept of slow travel, allowing us to immerse ourselves in a location for an extended period of time and to enjoy a community to its fullest. Experiencing a festive Christmas season and an explosive New Year’s celebration in Antigua, Guatemala, was extraordinary and something we wouldn’t have appreciated as much if we were just passing through.

We felt a little blue being away from our kids and their families during Christmas. The irony that we, and not the children, broke with the family tradition first was not lost on us.  A three week visit back to the States in mid-January to see everyone helped tremendously.img_0864 This visit also gave us an opportunity to jettison the wonderful textiles and ceramics we had purchased along the way for a home we don’t have yet.  Imagine this scene from our last stop in San Pedro – the backseat of a tuk-tuk overflowing with Donna and all our suitcases, while I’m sharing the driver’s seat with the driver, one cheek on, one cheek off and a foot dangling outside the cab as we speedily snaked through the steep narrow alleys of the village. 

Shopping in the central markets and street markets of each city has been wonderful as cooking is essential to keeping within our budget, though the size of some of our kitchens have tested our creative culinary abilities.  The exotic fruits available to us in Ecuador were amazing and we tried many that we were unfamiliar with.

In Olon we bought the catch of the day from the fish monger as be pushed his cart through town. Guatemala yielded remarkably flavorful vegetables.  We had a memorable culinary carrot experience there, go figure. This from a home gardener is quite a statement. Like our neighbors in the Alfama district, we are hanging our laundry out the windows to dry in the Lisbon fresh air. Our stays in each place have ranged from four to ten weeks.  I favor the longer stays whereas Donna prefers a shorter visit. 

There have been challenges negotiating the medical systems in Ecuador and Portugal only because we haven’t known the protocol of the local doctors.  We have been extremely impressed by the care we have received from the medical professionals in these countries for altitude sickness and a persistent upper respiratory infection.  The out of pocket costs have been remarkably inexpensive in comparison to the U.S. medical system.IMG_8692 Not everything has gone smoothly.  A rental car agency did not honor a reservation and we had to scramble to find another one late one night in the airport.  We have felt very safe during our travels, but there are unfortunately some extremely talented pickpockets out there. May the curse of arthritis shorten their careers!  Filing a stolen property report in Lisbon with the tourist police turned out to be an enjoyable experience due to the officer assigned to us.  Luckily, within 24-hours they called us with the good news that our wallet had been recovered, minus the cash of course, but that our passport and credit cards were all there.  Honestly, we weren’t following our own advice: only carry in your pockets what you are willing to lose.  Everything else of value needs to be carried under your clothing.IMG_8596After Lisbon it’s a two-week road trip through Portugal. Then we are off to, of all places, Sofia, Bulgaria for a month, (the Beatles song “Back in the USSR” keeps coming to mind) in order to reset our Schengen union days for later in the summer.  After that, two dog sits in England and two Workaway experiences in France at a 14th century chateau await us before we resume our life of leisure in Kotor, Montenegro, in September.img_0669We have shared meals and stories with so many wonderful and interesting people along the way.  These friends have made this journey what it is – fantastic! 

Kindness and a smile go a long way in this world.

Till next time,

Craig & Donna

 

 

Olon – A Beach Paradise – Head Here Before it’s too Late!

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IMG_0157Our quest for eternal Spring-like weather has brought us to Olon, a rustic beach town on Ecuador’s southern Pacific coast with a wide, flat sandy beach that stretches for nearly five miles without a high-rise to been seen. Think San Juan del Sur in Nicaragua fifteen years ago, before it was discovered, or Costa Rica thirty years before it became a top tourist destination.

It’s ideal for long solitary walks along the beach collecting shells, especially near the Mirador del Olon cliffs that rise dramatically from the ocean.  On the other end of town, the Rio Olon runs through a nature preserve, where we have entertained ourselves photographing various birds and listening to their calls. It’s amazing how small birds seem to have such loud songs that carry for a long distance.  The river doesn’t have enough flow to reach the sea this time of year and is separated from it by a berm of sand, but one night after a heavy rain the river breached the sand dune and carved its way into the sea.

Change is coming slowly to Olon. The roads in town were only bricked three years ago. So, there is still a wonderful, authentic undeveloped rawness to the town, with a small number of hotels and surf schools mixed in amongst local homes, many in an unfinished state.

It’s off season now in October, mostly cloudy with a light mist every morning, but the water is still warm, perfect conditions for the handful of surfers and us. Although the waves can reach 12ft at times, beginning surfers prefer the less crowded, smaller wave conditions in Olon over those of Montañita, which can be more treacherous.

The seafood cabanas along the beach are only open on the weekend this time of year, when it seems to get slightly busier. Our favorite is the last one down by the fishing boats, Mar del Sol, run by Rosa.  You can’t beat her stuffed calamari, ceviche or various seafood salads.

At times teams of fishermen can still be seen setting seine nets from the shore and hauling their catch in by hand. Other fishermen fight the waves to launch skiffs through the rough surf from the beach.

Sometimes the beach is a corridor of commerce with freshly caught fish being delivered by motorcycle from small villages further up the coast. Fathers can be seen taking their kids to school on the handlebars of their motorcycles, gently splashing through the incoming tide, hurrying to get there.  Outside of the small school every morning it’s like New York’s Times Square for ten minutes, with all the coming and going of motorbikes.  One morning a parade of open bed, stake trucks carrying school children dressed in different team colors honked and cheered its way, through town, to the school for a day of field activities.  Every evening there is a well-attended, robust soccer game on the beach. Just imagine the memories these kids will have!  Outside our hotel, a group of young men play marbles in the dirt road under a dim streetlight, using the light from their cell phones to help find stray ones hidden in the foliage along the road. In the morning we passed our neighbor, singing softly to herself as she gardened.

Our budget friendly and relaxing short-term rental at Rincon d’Olon included a very nice breakfast on the rooftop terrace prepared by the gregarious innkeeper, Chris.  He emigrated from the Netherlands to Ecuador six years ago after volunteering in the Andes and vacationing on the coast.  He is a great source of information for all things local and arranged several transfers and an excursion for us.

By ten o’clock each evening the streets are empty.  From our apartment at night we can hear the waves crashing onto the beach, along with roosters crowing – they start at one in the morning, seemingly on a campaign to discourage tourism – and dogs barking to each other. There is no traffic in this tiny four block square village.  Everyone walks in the middle of the road, roosters, dogs and cats included.  Restaurant owners and musicians will wave to you if they remember your visit from the day before.  Every day pushcart vendors wheel their offerings of fruit, eggs, cheese, clothing, kitchen supplies, etc. through town, each peddler singing out a different sales pitch. Sometimes the loudspeakers around the usually sleepy plaza blare: community news, music or appeals for donations to help a family pay funeral expenses.  One Saturday, families gathered to pay their respects at a memorial service on the plaza.  Later, the pallbearers hoisted the casket onto their shoulders, and solemnly carried it through town to the cemetery. A small marching band followed the coffin, playing El Condor Pasa, If I Could, by Simon and Garfunkle.

For a change of scenery, we took a day cruise out of Puerto Lopez to Isla de la Plata, an uninhabited island twenty-three miles off the coast, which is part of Machalilla National Park.  It is also referred to as the “budget Galapagos,” where we had a chance to see nesting blue-footed boobies and frigate birds.   Fifty dollars per person included shuttle transportation, boat ride, snorkeling gear, lunch, a three-hour hike with a licensed guide, and most importantly, the chance to see humpback whales. IMG_7650 Puerto Lopez hosts the largest fishing fleet on this part of the Ecuadorian coast.  Lacking a protected harbor, all the fishing boats beach on the shoreline to unload their fresh catch.  It is a hectic scene of never-ending activity that is reminiscent of an earlier era.

At Olon’s outdoor fish market, vendors sell a wonderful selection of fresh seafood caught locally at stalls set up along Ruta del Spondylus, named after a thorny shell used by the Incas in religious ceremonies.  The stalls are closed by noon, so we try to get there early for the best choices.  Two kilos of fresh large shrimp set us back six dollars.  After dark small tiendas fire up their street-side charcoal grills, offering chicken, pork or sausage shish-kababs to go, or you can stay and eat at tables set up in the street.  Several doors down from our hotel, at a little house with a barbeque made from an old fifty-gallon oil drum, two plates of fresh grilled fish with a beer cost five dollars for dinner.

For a tiny place, this village also has a surprising number of refined, small niche eateries, most of them created by foreign surfers, (Swedish, Dutch, Brazilian, Argentinian, Venezuelan, Austrian, Russian) who fell in love with the waves here and never left. Wonderful and inexpensive empanadas ($1.00) along with the best papas fritas (French fries) can be consumed at Bahio which offers Argentinian fast food.  Next door, La Churreria has good coffee and desserts which rival any French bakery in Paris.  For more refined though still very casual dining, try the eclectic menus at Momo or Cotinga’s across the main road.  Cotinga’s might be the only restaurant in Ecuador where you can get home-made borscht accompanied by a shot of vodka, prepared by Olga, a Russian expat.

The only thing Olon really needs is a French inspired chef whose specialty is Coq au Vin.  Roosters, you’ve been warned!

Till later,

Craig & Donna

Vilcabamba: Fountain of Youth or Old Hippies, Horses & a Dog Parade

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IMG_4211A vacation from vacation? Yes, its’s tiring work having fun every day!  Where to? Vilcabamba had been on our radar for a while, having read about its reputation as the “Valley of Longevity,” with mineral rich spring water and crisp mountain air.  That along with its location in Ecuador’s Southern Andes Mountains at an elevation of 5000ft, a setting which provides continuous spring-like conditions, has attracted a growing expat population of greying hippies, new agers, and backpackers seeking the fountain of youth and inexpensive housing.  We had to check it out!

Hostal Izhcayluma was recommended as the place to stay. Their $15.00 per person shuttle from their sister hostal, La Cigale, which was only a block from our apartment, as well as a line from their website (Izhcayluma is NOT a place for perpetually grouchy people) cinched the deal.  Hostal Izhcayluma, promotes itself as a “luxury resort spa priced for backpackers” and truly has to be one of the best travel values in Ecuador or all of South America.IMG_4389With a bed in the dorm room going for $9.50 and luxury private cabins starting at just $39.00, the resort has a reputation as the place to go to “relax, enjoy, forget time and stay awhile.”  Free morning yoga classes, a wonderful restaurant with some German dishes, and super affordable spa treatments (90 minute, deep tissue massages for $24.00, we both indulged) definitely promoted well-being.  Bird calls filled the air and the distinctive face of 6,000ft high Cerro Mandango, god lying down, watched over the valley.  Three thousand feet lower in altitude and much farther south, Vilcabamba was about 10 degrees warmer, which was a much-needed reprieve from the chilly days and nights we were experiencing in Cuenca.

At the reception desk are numerous brochures for off-site activities in the valley.  For reasons unknown I’ve become attracted to horseback riding later in life. With naïve enthusiasm I was immediately drawn to the five-hour ride on “galloping horses” to Cascada El Palto high in the surrounding mountains.  I’ve been riding about a dozen times, mostly on mountain trails, and the horses walked, occasionally trotted short distances, but never galloped.  Thinking this was hyperbole from the corral, I was reassured by the sign-up sheet that asked for your riding experience.  A family of five marked inexperienced. I thought this was a good sign and that the group would saunter slowly through the countryside for the novices. They must have been a family of vacationing gauchos from Argentina, because as soon as our guide shouted VAMANOS! we galloped out of Vilcabamba, into the mountains, and back.  I walked liked a saddle-sore cowboy for a week after that.

A disc-jockey blasted “You can’t always get what you want” from loud-speakers setup on the steps of the church across from the plaza as we walked along vendors’ craft tables in the street.  Trophies were visible on the DJ’s table as were bags of dog food under it.  To our delight, Vilcabamba was having its Best Dressed Dog competition today and later in the afternoon a Paso Fino, fine step, horse show.  About twenty proud and good-humored dog owners entertained a large crowd through several rounds of judging.  Several dogs had cheering sections in the crowd.  One or two ran away out of embarrassment, I think.  Trophies and bags of dog food were presented to the winners by a tiara and sash wearing Miss Vilcabamba.

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Immediately after the awards were presented the crowd rushed to the other side of the plaza where the horse show was ready to start.  Horsemen with perfect posture, dressed in immaculate white shirts, pants and hats, paraded their mounts up and down the dusty street to the sound of lively Spanish music.

The restaurant porches around the plaza were full of aging gringos, drinking beer, sipping wine, observing from afar.  Occasional a whiff of pot floated down the street.  “My friend is really good at colonics, she’ll be here soon” was an odd conversation snippet we overheard.

We were glad we visited Vilbamba for a long weekend, but were relieved we hadn’t committed to spending more time there.  Thoroughly relaxed we headed back to Cuenca.

El Barranco – Cuenca’s Most Interesting Neighborhood in Ecuador’s Renaissance City

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With a vibe and cultural scene reminiscent of Florence, Italy, Cuenca continues to reap tourism awards as a hot new destination in South America. The city is investing heavily in infrastructure with a new tram line opening soon, but with all this positive press the streets are still mostly filled with Cuencanos (people of Cuenca) going about their daily lives.  Masses of flag-led tour groups are unheard of, as are masses of tourists in general.  We have been in Cuenca for five weeks and have never felt the crush of tourist season descending upon us.Parque de San Sebastian_001The city does a wonderful job supporting its craftspeople who still use traditional, made by hand, methods to create exceptional pieces in jewelry, textile, ceramic, wrought-iron, tin and copper workshops located across the city.  Toquilla straw weavers in the villages around Cuenca who carry unfinished sacks of Panama Hats into the city’s sombrero (hat) factories also need to be included into this group.  There are also several traditional felt hat tallerias (workshops) that cater to the indigenous women who live in the rural areas around Cuenca. The fine arts scene is also well represented with galleries and artists’ studios often next to traditional crafts workshops. To get the broadest experience of this vibrant arts and crafts community a tour through Cuenca’s most interesting neighborhood, El Barranco (the cliffs), and along its busiest street Calle Larga, is a must.  The colonial buildings that front Calle Larga back onto the cliff which overlooks Rio Tomebamba and the newer southern part of Cuenca. Wide stairs in several parts lead down to Paseo 3 de Noviembre, a shaded pedestrian walkway and bike path that follows the river for several miles.Coronel Guillermo Talbot Stairs_001This route actually starts several blocks west of Calle Larga at Cuenca’s Museo de Arte Moderno (Museum of Modern Art) across from Parque de San Sebastian which has a large fountain and several nice places to eat. Casa Azul, which has rare sidewalk tables that face the quiet plaza, and Tienda Café are good choices.  Most of the workshops won’t have business signs over their doors or street numbers, might open by ten, but will reliably close between one and three for lunch.

Just around the corner from the Museo Municpal de Arte Moderno at 7-49 Coronel Guillermo Talbot is the unimposing metal embossing workshop of Carlos Bustos. With his workbench by the door to take advantage of the daylight and his finished pieces hanging behind him, he works until the sun sets.  Still keeping the traditions of his family alive he offers embossed decorative pieces which can be traditional or whimsical.  At the end of the street a mural-lined staircase will take you down to the Rio Tomebamba; instead make a left onto Presidente Cordova and then veer right at the Y in the road onto Bajada del Valo. A few doors down is the felt hat Sombrereria of Camilo M.  Hanging from his walls are dozens of white felt hats in various stages of completion with name of the person who ordered it pinned into the brim.  Ask permission to take photos and you will be greeted with a smile.  Just past the hat maker,  Plazoleta Cruz del Vado merges with Mirador del Barranco.  This small plaza has several whimsical sculptures, largest of which depicts the traditional festival game Palo Ensebado (the teaching stick – climbing a greased pole) and a religious cross which celebrates the founding of Cuenca in 1557.

Walking along this scenic overlook, open doors reveal artists’ studios and Casa Museo La Condamine, a museum/antique store that houses an interesting menagerie of long forgotten Cuenca furnishings and antiquities.  Next door to them is the Prohibido Centro Cultural, an alternative museum that displays sculptures and art that could have been inspirational for your worst nightmare or an award winning sci-fi/horror film, depending on how you look at things.  It has a café. Further along the balustrade, musical chords waft from an instrument maker’s workshop, drawing you in, as the craftspeople test their work . Stairs from this scenic overlook lead down to Calle la Condamine and several coppersmiths.

Rounding the corner onto Calle Larga is like returning from the Amazon to New York City. It’s tenfold busier, with the Mercado 10 de Agosto (Cuenca’s central market) accounting for most of the activity in the first block.  This a great short detour to get some exotic fruits or fresh bread and rolls from the numerous panaderias that surround it.  Diagonally across the street is the Museum del Sombrero de Paja Toquilla (free), a still operating panama hat factory where you can watch the manufacturing process and try on the finished product.  They have a lovely rooftop café, the only one in Cuenca, that overlooks the Rio Tomebamba and park below.  They offer you a free cup of coffee when you purchase a hat.  From the rooftop here you can see the jewelry workshop and store of Andrea Tello on Av 12 de Abril across the river. One of Cuenca’s finest silversmiths, having created filigree masterpieces that are in museum collections around the world, she earned the UNESCO Award of Excellence in Handicrafts in 2010.  Just a few doors away is the wide alley Bajada del Padron where you will find the workshop of an ironsmith who makes Pucara, a symbol given as a gift to bring good fortune and prosperity. The sculpture incorporates the Christian cross with images of the Sun and Moon to honor Pachamama.

Continuing east along Calle Larga you will cross the intersection of Benigno Malo. For the next several blocks the restaurant choices are tremendous, with options for Arab and Indian cooking to gourmet Ecuadorian cuisine and everything else in between.  El Mercado and El Jardin offer fine dinning experiences that are very enjoyable. For a more casual environment try Goza Espresso Bar which has outside table facing a small park. The lower level of Museo Remigio Crespo Toral (free) offers the Café del Museo, which is truly an oasis of calm in this bustling city, has terraced outside dining that looks over the lush greenery along the Rio Tomebamba and Paseo 3 de Noviembre. The museum itself is worth exploring to see how Cuenca’s gentry lived at the end of the 19th century.  Or you can head to the Wunderbar Café on the Francisco Sojos Jaramillo stairway that leads to the Centro Interamericano de Artes Populares (CIDAP – free) which offers changing, monthly craft exhibits.

Back on Calle Larga the Museo de las Culturas Aborigenes looks unimpressive from its entrance, but the museum upstairs has an enthralling collection of 8,000 indigenous artifacts that spans 15,000 years and 20 pre-Columbian cultures, stone-age to bronze-age. Downstairs there is a very good, no-pressure gift store with excellent pricing. Next door is the fascinating studio of metal sculptor Julio Machado who creates hummingbirds and other animals in bronze and aluminum.  Stay straight on Calle Larga when you come to the fork in the road at Todos los Santos Church; this will lead you to a store front painter’s studio where his favorite subject seems to be the church you just passed.

At the end of Calle Large at what once was the Inca city of Tomebamba, its terraced gardens still home to grazing llama, now stands Museo Pumapungo (free), one of Ecuador’s finest museums. The first floor offers changing contemporary art exhibits as well as a fascinating collection of artifacts discovered on site here. Upstairs features exhibits which represent all of Ecuador’s diverse cultural groups and their historic way of life.  Topping it off, there is an unusual exhibit of shrunken heads, tzantzas, along with how-do instructions in Spanish and English from the Shuar people of the Amazon.

Across the river from the Museo Pumapungo is Las Herrerias, the street of the iron forges, where several workshops create utilitarian and decorative works; to locate the workshops, just follow the sounds of hammers striking anvils. Plaza del Herrero, at the end of the street, has a very interesting monumental sculpture dedicated to the ironworkers who helped build Cuenca.  Be sure to try Tortilla de Choclo, a scrumptious corn pancake that is pan-fried on large griddles along the street in this neighborhood.

Artisans not in the Barranco neighborhood, but definitely worth the effort to visit, are ceramicist Eduardo Vega (internationally recognized for his decorative arts.) His workshop and home are a short walk downhill from the Mirador de Turi. Located on the new tram-line that runs through the historic potters’ Barrio Convencio Del 45, at 2-90 Mariscal Lamar, is the traditional, ceramic workshop of Jose Encalada where he and his son Ivan still form every piece using a potter’s kick-wheel. A few blocks over on Vega Munoz is the contemporary, ceramic studio of Eduardo Segovia where he creates whimsical decorative pieces influenced by South American traditions. Closer to the historic central part of Cuenca is the Mama Quilla silversmith shop on Luis Cordero. Here, Harley-riding Ernesto creates fine filigree pieces that reflect the cultures of the Andes.

We enjoyed walking through El Barranco, and specifically Calle Larga.  The route we suggest here provides a wonderful overview of life and art in Cuenca.

Till later,

Craig & Donna

Onto Banos and Riobamba – The Last Leg of Our Avenue of Volcanoes Drive

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Quilotoa Crater was our  first stop today.

The road conditions don’t warrant driving after dark, there are just to many ifs, so we departed early from Hostal Taita Cristobal, after wishing our table mates safe travels and adventures as they hoisted heavy backpacks to their shoulders. The Quilotoa Crater and Baños, the adventure capital of Ecuador, were our day’s destinations.  Really, Donna’s not going to go zip lining nor am I willing to try bungie jumping.  Still, we thought we could find an adventurous activity where one foot was required to be in contact with the ground occasionally. Experience has taught us to double the amount of time our GPS app suggests it will take to get from point A to B due to road conditions and the frequent stops for photo opps. As my wife says “if we continue to stop every 100 yard for pictures, we’ll never get there.”   The return drive back to the main road in Sigchos seemed to go very quickly.  We only stopped for photos around every other bend. Fortunately we were able to drive down the center of the road or hug the left side to avoid looking over the precipice most of the time. It was nerve racking when we had to get closer to the edge to make room for an oncoming truck to pass. We never thought the sight of a guardrail would bring as much joy as it did when we got back on the main road in Sigchos.  As our host had promised the road out of Sigchos was freshly paved. Along with a bright, yellow double line down the center it had shiny, heavenly guardrails around every curve!  Even with the new road there were still hazards.  There were numerous signs for falling rock or mudslide zones. We also shared it with folks herding sheep or cattle, donkeys carrying water barrels and folks selling things from motorcycles towing small trailers.  Suddenly around one curve, marked by only 2 piles of dirt as a warning, about one hundred feet of road had collapsed into a steep ravine.  There were no flagmen, orange cones or repair crews in the vicinity.  The hair on the back of our necks stood up.

The treed landscape slowly disappeared and was replaced with barren windswept vistas as we rose in altitude, the closer we got to Quilotoa. Gale force winds ripped around us on the ridge above the magnificant Quilotoa Crater (12,913ft), its turquoise waters calm a thousand feet below.  Local legend believes Quilotoa fell in love with the Cotopaxi volcano, and  the tears from her unrequited love filled the crater.  Teary-eyed from the wind chill and altitude, we sought out some restorative coca tea.

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A few miles down the road Canyon del Rio Toachi, a mini Grand Canyon, offered interesting photo opportunities from the parking area.  Further on small groups of men and women could be seen in the fields winnowing grain by throwing it into the air to separate the wheat from the chaff. Barns made from thatch lined the road for storage.In Zumbahua, with the hills green again, we picked up route E30, which connects the Pacific Coast region with the Amazon basin through Baños.  It is a slow cross country route that encounters numerous traffic lights as it passes through many towns along the way, but gives wonderful insight into how folks live along this corridor of commerce.  Shops of every variety lined both sides of the road with their doors and workshops literally on curb of the road.

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Baños is a well developed town of about 40 blocks that is know for its location under the towering, 16,575ft high and still active Volcan Tungurahua.  As recently as two years ago, the town had to be evacuated due to an eruption.  Mineral rich hot-springs, numerous waterfalls and the close proximity to the Amazon basin made this a must stop for two days.

The sight of a tall waterfall pouring down from a ridge above town greeted us a we turned down the street for Hostal Posada de Arte.  This small boutique hotel was as whimsical as its name suggests, with a colorful interior and excellent, locally created art decorating the walls.  If the wind blew just right, mist from the waterfall fell on the inn.  Breakfast and dinner at the hotel were delightful with a large fireplace warming the room.

On the central plaza several blocks away stood the Church of our Lady of Holy Water which has many large paintings depicting miracles granted by the Virgin Mary.  Most illustrate some mishaps centuries ago with the turbulent Rio Pastaza which rushes through town.

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Clouds hung below the mountain peaks as we hiked down to the El Pailon del Diablo, the Devil’s Waterfall. This met our criteria for keeping our feet on the ground.  It was an amazing descent along a cloud forest trail to a thundering waterfall. We weren’t planning on getting wet here, drenched is more like it; there is no way to avoid it, especially if you squirrel under the ledge to find the rabbit hole that leads to the highest viewing platform as we did!  And you haven’t experienced the fury of this cascade fully unless you do. There is a rest hut at the bottom of the trail, by the suspension bridge, with a fireplace where we relaxed and purchased some refreshments to energize ourselves before the trek back up.

The hike back to the parking area wasn’t as difficult as we had worried, nevertheless our muscles ached. So being in the land of holistic cures we tried a locally brewed craft beer by (no kidding) Shaman breweries.  It was so delicous, one of the best brews ever.  Sadly, we haven’t been able to find it since.

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The Swing at the End of the World was another matter. Hanging from a treehouse situated on the edge of a ravine, with Volcan Tungurahua rising dramatically to the sky across the way, you can get a thrilling swing or a swing with a twist as many times as you dare.  Cost of entry for the day – $1.00. Brave soul, Donna got airborne!

We took the first left out of Baños onto Rt. 490, the slow road, heading south to Riobamba.  Fortunately, the weather was with us as we began to climb out of the valley, rewarding us with tremendous views of Baños in the valley below and Volcan Tungurahua to the east. The route passed through many small villages and verdant farmland as it sinuously followed the Rio Pastaza which snaked through the valley several hundred feet below us.  With such steep terrain we were always amazed that every acre seemed to be cultivated by manual labor. Constantly battling the whims of nature, a hard living is extracted from the earth here. Mother nature rules in these mountains, as witnessed by the path of older, washed away bridges we viewed.

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The majestic Volcan Chimborazo came into view for the first time as we crested a small hill on the outskirts of Riobamba.  At 20,549ft it is the tallest mountain in Ecuador and the highest near the equator.  As the crow flies the mountain was only 15 miles away, but as the road curved it took us another two and a half hours to get to our night’s lodging at Hosteria La Andaluza in San Andres, which was very near the mountain on Rt. 35, the Pan-American Highway.  The mountain was hidden by afternoon clouds by the time we pulled into the hacienda’s driveway.

Seeing two exhausted travelers approaching, the staff came from behind the reception desk to take our bags and welcome us.  A woodstove in the corner warmed pots of their high altitude tea remedy Canelazo, a mixture of local herbs and fruit which also could be consumed with an optional splash of a sugarcane moonshine.  It definitely warmed our bones.  Red rose petals on the bed sheets greeted us as we opened the door to our guestroom.  The functioning radiator was a nice surprise. This was the first hotel in Ecuador that we stayed in that offered heat; normally it’s window open, window closed, blankets on or off or light the fireplace. Our room overlooked a fountain filled with rose petals and freshly ploughed fields in the distance.

The hacienda dates from 1555 and echoes with history, “Simon Bolivar slept here,” had a familiar ring to it.  Ornate, antique furnishings highlighting the craftsmanship of an earlier era filled the common areas.  As we wandered about the grounds we were delighted to discover one courtyard  had a family of domestic rabbits scurrying about it. A large basket of carrots was left off to the side, so guests could feed them.  Two peacocks also strutted about fanning their elegant feathers. That evening chandeliers and candlelit tables created a romantic setting as the filet mignon we ordered was threactically flambéed at our table.

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The majestic Volcan Chimborazo.

Chimborazo gleamed brilliantly in the morning sun and filled the horizon across the road from the inn.  It seemed almost close enough to touch, but it was only an illusion.  To the north just a tiny wedge of Volcan Carihuairazo appeared in the distance. We spent a good part of the day driving through the surrounding farmlands trying to get as close as we could to these beautiful peaks.

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Volcan Carihuairazo

On mountain overload, later that afternoon we headed into the historic heart of Riobamba just to get a feel for the city and a change of pace. We had a difficult time figuring out the on-street parking rules, but fortunately after circling several blocks we spotted a parking attendant who issued us a ticket to park for fifty cents. Parque Maldonado centers the historic district with a monument dedicated to Pedro Vicente Maldonado, a multi-disciplined Ecuadorian scientist known for his work with the French Geodesic Mission.  He also had responsibilities as Mayor of the City, Lieutenant Magistrate Governor of the Emerald Province, Horseman of the Golden Key and Gentleman of the Camera.  Obviously a renaissance man; we weren’t sure if the statue was tall enough.  Bordering the plaza, La Catedral de San Pedro’s baroque façade is all that remains of the original structure, one of Riobamba’s earliest, after a 1797 earthquake estimated at a 8.3 magnitude shook the region for three minutes and left thousands dead.

A short walk away, Mercado de San Alfonso filled a city block with terraced displays of flowers and exotic fruits (oh, the creative possibilities – truly a smoothie lover’s paradise), seldom seen in  North American markets. Numerous varieties of potatoes in every color and size filled sacks aligned neatly down the aisles.

The next morning we left the wonderful hospitality of Hosteria La Andaluza for Cuenca, our final destination and home for the next five weeks.  Fields of quinoa hugged the steep slopes as we continued south on Rt. E35.  In one small village we passed parade floats and camionetas, shared pick-up truck taxis, filled with costumed revelers leaving town after what looked like a lively celebration.  If we had only arrived a little sooner.  These are the unexpected things you happen across when you travel the backroads.  Places and events that are too small to be included in the popular tour guides, but entertaining, interesting and eye-opening nevertheless.

Safe travels.

Craig & Donna