Travel South America

Panama: Snowbirds in Paradise – Sand, Sea, and Skyscrapers or A Relaxing Visit to the Azuero Peninsula

| 2suitcasesfor2years

By the time we picked up our rental car at the Tocumen International Airport it was the height of the evening rush hour in Panama City. Fortunately, we were heading into the city, while the traffic lanes carrying the daily exodus of commuters home from the financial capital of Latin America were jammed. It was only a twenty-five minute drive to our hotel on the waterfront, but we missed our exit and had to re-route our way through the now deserted downtown streets to the Hotel Plaza Paitilla Inn, for a one night stay. We chose this 19-floor waterfront hotel after determining it was the best place to get those iconic photographs of the city’s modern skyline along the Pacific Ocean coast. And we were not dissappointed.

Golden light filled the room as we drew back the curtains along a wall of windows to reveal a spectacular cityscape that transitioned through the sunset, twilight, and darkness. It was a million-dollar view and we felt as if we were some place only accessible to billionaires or actors lucky enough to have a movie scene filmed on location here. Surprisingly, the Hotel Plaza Paitilla Inn was an excellent value and very budget friendly.

After discussing our travel plan with the concierge the night before, we departed after an early breakfast to avoid the expected traffic delays as folks took the Friday afternoon off in anticipation of the four days of Carnaval before Ash Wednesday. The nationwide el Carnaval de Panama, which literally happens in every town, is the biggest celebration of the year in the country. It starts in each town with the coronation of a queen and ends with the Burial of the Sardine, which symbolizes the past festivals and enjoyment of drink and food, in the predawn hours of Ash Wednesday, and the beginning of Lent. Little did we know that Panama’s Carnaval is regarded as “one of the largest— and rowdiest — events in Latin America.” Nightly events feature themed parades with elaborately decorated floats escorted by trumpet and drum bands, called tunas. To the benefit of all, water trucks called Culecos spray the revelers in the ninety-degree heat to keep them cool. And between the water trucks, mojaderas, wetters, keep everyone partying around them soaked with water pistols, water balloons, and buckets of water. It’s not a particularly camera-friendly event.

Our destination for the next 5 nights was Posada Los Destiladeros on Playa Los Destiladeros, in Los Santos Province, a 5 hour, 335km (208mi) drive. Leaving the city, we crossed the Bridge of the Americas which soars 64m (210ft) above the Panama Canal, and stopped on the far side at the Mirador de las Américas for our first look at the canal. Two monuments commemorate the arrival of 750 immigrants from China 170 years ago to work on projects relating to the construction of the canal, which created an enduring friendship between Panama and China. The view of the canal wasn’t as impressive as its fact sheet: over 12,000 ships carrying $270 billion worth of cargo pass through the locks of the canal annually. Over 70% of the ships are headed to or are returning from ports in the United States.

Continuing on Rt1 we passed the first of many pillars being constructed to support Panama City’s new Metro 3 line, a double-track monorail project sponsored by the Chinese, that will connect the growing towns of Ciudad Del Futuro and La Chorrea to the city’s Metro 1 and Metro 2 lines, Central America’s first and only subway system that became operational in 2014. Rt1 is alternately called the Pan-American Highway, that famously stretches from Prudhoe Bay, Alaska in the United States, 19,000 miles way to Ushuaia, Tierra del Fuego in Argentina. Though a 100-mile section is missing in the difficult terrain of treacherous Darien Gap region between Yaviza, Panama and Chigorodó, Colombia.

Shopping centers and strip malls with McDonald’s golden arches, Starbucks, and Burger Kings lined both sides of the highway before giving way to open crop- and pastureland. The occasional hilltop offered views of the Gulf of Panama and the Pacific Ocean to the south. While to the north the rural highlands of the Cordillera Central, the jagged mountainous spine of the country, graced the horizon. Veering off the Pan-American Highway we headed west on Rt2 to Las Tablas. The town has been ground zero for Carnaval in Panama since the mid-1800s when two fiercely rival groups representing Calle Arriba and Calle Abajo started to compete in a festive, one upmanship every year before the 40 days of Lent began. The event in Las Tablas is very popular with folks from Panama City seeking to experience a more traditional Carnaval with folkloric music and regional dress, in what many consider Panama’s “heartland.”

Traffic had been slowly building all morning, and by early afternoon the streets of our intended route were blocked with floats being prepared for the weekend’s first parade that night. Folks were already creatively parking along the side of the roads and walking to the town’s central plaza, Belisario Porras. The congestion in the town unfortunately nixed our plans for lunch there, and we continued on for several miles along Rt2 through a scenic landscape of lightly treed hillocks. Cattle grazed in the shade under the trees.

Cars were parked on both sides of the road in front of El Cruce #2. It was a small fonda – a Panamanian roadside food stand, with smoke billowing up from its barbeque pit. It piqued our interests, and we stopped.  The outside grill area was open sided, under a corrugated tin roof. In its shade a man prepped and attended the meats that were smoking above a fire while another was using a machete to shave kernels from ears of corn. The unhusked pile next to him seemed monumental, akin to the Greek myth of Sisyphus and his never-ending task. It was the beginning step in the preparation of masa, a corn flour. It’s a must-have ingredient for traditional, homemade corn tortillas and tamales. The menu hung above a small window to the kitchen filled with women attending various stoves. Everyone was very nice and curious about where we were from, but seemed surprised that we had stopped. A large John Deere combine harvester with a police escort passed as we ate. A small caravan of pickup trucks with farm workers standing in the back followed it slowly down the road. The fonda was a very authentic, nothing touristy about it experience, and the food was good.  The line of traffic behind the harvester slowly disappeared as cars passed it when the opportunity arose.  It wasn’t until the last seconds as we raced past the tractor that we realized we also had to pass the police car! We returned the officer’s wave. It seemed like it was an everyday occurrence in the rural countryside. In Pedasi, the closest town to our hotel, preparations for the Carnaval were also visible down the side streets.

We missed the entrance to the hotel and continued down the road in hope of finding an easy spot to turn around, only to find that the road suddenly ended, with a log across it, at the top of Playa Destiladeros, a short distance away from the thundering waves of the Pacific Ocean, as if an early extension had been washed away in a storm. We were at one of the farthest points south on the remote Azuero Peninsula.

When we made plans for this return layover from our trip earlier in the month to Uruguay and Argentina, we didn’t realize our week coincided with Carnaval, consequently many of the hotels we were interested in were fully booked. After scouring the map for areas we wanted to stay we found Posada Los Destiladeros. While it showed as fully booked on Booking.com and Hotels.com, we were able to book a room directly through the hotel’s reservation page.

From the gated entrance we followed a long twin-tracked road, through a large palm tree covered property with many outbuildings, to the parking area. Through a grove of palm trees, the inviting blue water of the Pacific glistened behind the receptionist.

The vibe was really nice. It’s an unpretentious, tenderly time-worn resort in a verdant oasis of greenery on the low cliffs overlooking a wild beach and undeveloped coastline. The staff were very nice and friendly, and after a few days felt like family. The dinners that emerged from their kitchen were extraordinary!

It’s very unusual that we stay in one spot for 5 nights to unwind. But the Posada Los Destiladeros was the perfect place for us to relax, with easy walks on the beach, lounging around the pool and under palm thatched gazebos overlooking the surf as we waited for sunset every day, which offered a dramatic play of light across sand and surf.

A conversation in the pool one afternoon with another guest, a Panamanian American man visiting family over the week of Carnaval, related that he and his wife had been coming here for years, but “somehow it remains a hidden gem.” Of course, we took several half day trips to explore what else the Azuero Peninsula had hidden away.

Several days later we drove toward the beach town of Las Escobas del Venado. Well suited to the heat and humidity of the region, herds of Brahma cows have rested in the shade of the region since Spanish colonists first brought them to the area in the mid-1500s. At a turnoff for the small ranching town of Los Asientos, a roadside monument highlights the town’s traditional la corridas, bullfights. These are non-lethal events since a 2012 law prohibited the injury or death of the bull; however, la corridas are still popular in rural Panama. Along the road milk cans were placed next to the rancher’s gate, waiting for the local dairy cooperative to pick them.

A little way farther along, the colors of the tombs in a small cemetery seemed to vibrate against the verdant landscape, which receives between 45 and 90 inches of rain every year. A large group of cyclists, followed slowly by a support vehicle, made passing difficult along the narrow hilly road, with many blind curves. Though the congestión they created was well tolerated, without the honking of horns. Drivers respected their safety and gave them a wide berth when they were eventually able to pass. Small artesanal lumber mills along the way vertically stacked their milled lumber, like skis, against a wall to dry.

During the dryer summer months the Rio Oria lazily flows through the ranchlands to the ocean.

Las Escobas del Venado was the closest example of a traditional beach town, with several small hotels build along the shore of the half-moon shaped Playa Venao. It is not by any means a large resort town. The beach is very wide and shallow, especially when the tide is out, and it’s a popular spot to horseback ride or drive an ATV along the sand. Across the water a sailboat was safely anchored out of the wind and rolling waves behind the bluff at the southern end of the bay. The day was very hot, so we didn’t spend much time on the beach, and hugged the shade as we walked to the Almendro Café for our traditional “walk a little then café.”

It was a really nice spot, under large shade trees. Our coffees and pastries were excellent, and its menu looked very good with vegetarian, vegan, and gluten-free choices. It was to our surprise part of the Selina River Hostel which promotes itself as a destination for digital nomads to enjoy the sun, surf, and sand of Playa Venao. We definitely skewed their demographics for the morning.

We continued driving into the highlands along Via Hacia El Carate, a narrow serpentine road that rose through a mesmerizing landscape of hills and valleys. Unfortunately, there were not any places to stop along the way until we reached the Mirador La Vigía, which offered great views of forested ranchlands, backed by the Pacific Ocean on the horizon.

Familiar with the road now, we occasionally stopped along gated pastures to photograph the expansive landscape, that showed little sign of human intrusion, as we followed the same road back downhill.

They were few opportunities for lunch along the way so we decided to head back to the Almendro Café at the Selina River Hostel . We were not disappointed; the food was excellent and healthy. It’s so nice to order from a menu that doesn’t automatically serve French fries with every order.

Nearing our hotel, a rancher blocked the road with his herd of cows as he moved them to a different pasture.

We were back in time to watch the sunset over Playa Destiladeros. We stayed until the last color in the sky had faded away before walking back to the resort’s restaurant, where we usually dined inside to take advantage of the air conditioning and ceiling fans.

Though having breakfast on the veranda, with the sound of the waves crashing in the distance, was a delight during the cool morning hours.

Early morning walks along the beach as the sun crested to the horizon were equally as enjoyable as the sunsets, but more tranquil with squadrons of pelicans swooping low over the surf, looking for fish. Occasionally some would peel away to dive headfirst into the water to catch fish.

Remnants of Carnaval celebrations the night before were still visible in the small towns along our route as we headed back early to Panama City to avoid the traffic. We arrived on the outskirts of the city sooner than expected and decided to spend the afternoon at Perico Island. Located at the end of the very long Amador Causeway which extends for 6km (3.7mi) into Panama Bay, it’s a popular spot for city folks to catch the breezes, picnic, rent bicycles or walk along its full length which offers great panoramic views of the city’s modern skyline and large cargo ships underway to the entrance of the Panama Canal.

After strolling along the waterfront for a while we decided to have lunch at Sabroso Panamá, a uniquely decorated place with a nice vibe, that also had a balcony overlooking a marina. We tried the carimañolas, similar to empanadas, though they are made with mashed cassava (yucca) dough and then fried.

Carnaval celebrations continued that evening and the direct route back to Hotel Plaza Paitilla Inn (we had such a nice experience there earlier in the week we decided to stay there again) along the Cinta Costera, the city’s waterfront park, and the eight lanes of the Pan-American that parallel it were blocked, and we had to circumnavigate our way around it. The massive street party continued well past midnight into the wee hours of Ash Wednesday morning.

Ash Wednesday was our last full day in Panama City, and we spent it exploring the Casco Antiguo, the historic old town district which dates from 1673, and is also known as Casco Viejo or San Felipe.

This town, built on a defensible small peninsula, replaced the city’s original settlement, Panama La Vieja, which was started 11km (7mi) farther east in 1519 when Spanish conquistador Pedro Arias Dávila landed 100 settlers along the coast, and built the first permanent European settlement on the Pacific. The city prospered for 150 years as the Spanish used the town as a base for expeditions to conquer the Inca Empire and sent the plundered gold and silver they seized back to Spain. The city’s wealth did not go unnoticed, and in 1671 the British privateer Henry Morgan landed over a thousand brigands on the Caribbean coast and trekked through treacherous jungles across the Isthmus of Panama to reach the city, which they then attacked, pillaged and burnt to the ground. Six hundred Spaniards died during the assault. Though the booty they looted wasn’t as much as expected, Morgan was declared a British hero, and knighted.

We arrived by Uber to the Catedral Basílica Metropolitana Santa María La Antigua on the Plaza de la Independencia in the center of Casco Antiguo. Its striking façade which blends Baroque and Neoclassical architecture dates from 1688, but the cathedral took more than 100 years to build, and wasn’t consecrated until 1796. Inside, an interesting mural in monochrome blue depicted the indigenous peoples of Panama accepting Chrisitanity.

The Old Town was once a citadel, though the defensive wall which encircled its 36 blocks was taken down ages ago to ease its expansion. Surprisingly, within this small area there were 4 still active historic churches and the ruins of another. Our basic plan was to visit every church and then spur off to other nearby points of interest.

Adjacent to the cathedral was the Museum of Panamanian History, housed in the Municipal Palace of Panama. It’s a beautiful Neo-Renaissance style building with pilasters, arches and decorative cornices. We didn’t tour the exhibits, but we did enjoy resting in the air-conditioning of the lobby.

The narrow-bricked lanes were more suitable for the horse drawn carriages for which they were designed than the cars of today. They surrounded a plaza full of colorful well-maintained 18th and 19th century buildings with decorative iron railed balconies covered by profusely blooming bougainvillea.

Cafes surround the Plaza Simón Bolívar where a grand monument commemorates the Latin America independence hero. Behind it the graceful belltower of the Saint Francis of Assisi Church looms above the plaza. It was a later addition to the original early 1700s church that was damaged during fires in 1737 and 1756.  

Nice views of the modern Panama City skyline were available along the lane leading to the Corredor Artesanal De Casco Antiguo, a trellis-covered lane with flowering vines that offers shade for the indigenous artisans who have stalls along its length.

Back in the center we passed the ruins of the Iglesia de la Compañía de Jesús. It was built as a Jesuit monastery in 1641 and later in the 1740s it also served as the home of the Royal Pontifical University of San Javier, Panama’s first university, until the Spanish Crown banished the Jesuits from the colonies in 1767, and the church and monastery was abandoned. The ruins still standing are all that were left from a 1781 fire that ravaged the complex.

A block away was the Iglesia de San José. The 1670s church is notable for its ornate gold altar, that legend believes was saved from Morgan’s pirates by a priest who painted it black to hide its importance. There is also an interesting collection of religious sculptures and nativity scenes in a side chamber.

Afterwards we headed to the Santa Anna neighborhood, which was outside the walled citadel. While parts of it are in the UNESCO protected area of the Casco Antiguo; most of it is not. We had read that the area has great potential with many older buildings needing renovation, but were surprised by the quick transition from one neighborhood to another. While hopes are high for the barrio, many of the buildings we passed were only colorfully painted facades, with the sky above showing through the windows of roofless buildings.

Returning to Old Town we passed the Iglesia de la Merced, the only church to survive, fully intact, the destruction of Panama La Vieja during the pirate’s 1671 attack on the town. After the attack the church was disassembled by Franciscan monks and moved stone by stone to the new town, where it was painstakingly rebuilt, and is believed to be several years older than Iglesia de San José.

Our “walk a little then café,” beckoned when we happened upon Café Unido, a local coffee shop that pridefully specializes in Panamanian grown coffee, which they consider the best in the world.

A delightfully warm March day wandering the colorful streets of the Casco Antiguo was the perfect way to end our week in Panama. Between the beauty of the countryside and the coast, along with the warm hospitality of the Panamanians, we can understand why the country is a warm weather haven for expats from all across the northern hemisphere.

Hopefully, we will get the opportunity to explore more of the country in the future.

Till next time,

Craig & Donna

Along the Coast of Uruguay: Sand in Our Shoes – Faro de José Ignacio & Punta del Este & Beyond

| 2suitcasesfor2years

After a three-day road trip through the colonial towns of Colonia del Sacramento and Carmelo, then the rural farmlands of Minas and ranchlands of Gorzon, the amount of activity around the traffic circle in Faro de José Ignacio took us by surprise. We had reached civilization again! Not that it was really busy, but literally more cars had passed us in the last five minutes than the last three days, as we pulled into the small collection of shops along Rt10, which leads up from Punta del Este. Some fruit and supplies were gathered for our four night stay at Casa Franca from the Devoto Market, a well-stocked, but typical beach town store that benefits from a captive market. A few doors down the Panadería José Ignacio, a popular bakery, has a very nice selection of bread, pastries and tasty delectables. They also have a pizza and sandwich counter along with tables for eating outside on their terrace. We returned every morning during our stay for fresh from the oven delights.

Folks parked along the road followed sandy paths across the dunes to the beach. The sails of kite surfers filled the sky as we passed the Laguana de José Ignacio, a freshwater lake separated from the South Atlantic Ocean by a sandbank, which it breaches when it rains too much.

Surf pounded against the Playa Balneario across from our host Daniel’s guesthouse in the tiny hamlet of Santa Mónica, only 5km (3mi) west of Faro de José Ignacio, but a sea change in tranquility, compared to our earlier shopping experience. His wife and children waved from their balcony as his friendly dog energetically greeted us. Daniel helped take our bags to our room, which was located through a private entrance to an extension on their home with three other guest rooms. While our chic petite studio didn’t face the ocean it did thankfully have a shaded porch, where we spent many hours.

After settling in we headed to the lighthouse in José Ignacio, located on thumb-like peninsula that juts into the South Atlantic. Its 32m (105ft) tall lighthouse has guided sailors off this treacherous reef coast since 1877.

While Punta del Este has been promoted as a beach resort for wealthy Argentinians and Uruguayans since the early 1900s, and is now known as the “Ibiza of Uruguay”. José Ignacio remained a quiet isolated fishing village without running water or electricity, as the coastal road from Punta ended at the Laguana de José Ignacio. All that changed in 1981 with the construction of a bridge across the lagoon. The infrastructure improvements that came at that time were appreciated, but the town’s small population rallied to prevent the coastal area from becoming a Miami-esque playground, and successfully petitioned the local government to enact ordinances to ensure its quiet, peaceful character remained intact by allowing only single-family homes, no taller than two-stories within the Maldonado region. Along with banning discothèques, pubs and nightclubs, as well as all motorized vehicles on the beaches, jet skis and speedboats are also prohibited in the lagoons. Today the town’s seven miles of pristine beaches attract folks from all over who just want to unwind along what many consider the best part of Uruguay’s 410-mile-long coastline.

We walked out onto the rocky point next to the lighthouse, then down a boardwalk over the dunes to the Playa Brava, a long gracefully curved stretch of sand, scoping out the best spots to return to the next morning for sunrise photos. We strolled along the wide beach between lifeguard chairs. Squealing kids ran into the surf from the beach speckled with blankets and sun umbrellas amidst impromptu volleyball and soccer games. We stopped at El Chiringo, an outdoor restaurant with tables in the sand and shared a pizza for an early dinner.

Heading back to Casa Francawe stopped along the lagoonto watch a beautiful sunset across its calm water. Kite Surfers unwilling to end their day skimmed along the water until it was nearly dark.

The next morning Donna slept in while I rose before dawn and drove back to the lighthouse to watch the sun cast its first rays of light across the rocky headland and lighthouse.

A few hardy fishermen had already made their first casts of the day from the rocks. On the other side of the lighthouse a group of fishermen were readying two large skiffs to push into the surf from the beach. Next to them the first surfer of the day paddled out, and a few joggers pounded along the cool sand in early morning solitude.

After a day of rest and relaxation we wanted to explore the beach towns farther east along the coast as it runs towards Brazil. The weather doesn’t always cooperate, but we were hopeful the sky would clear as we drove along Rt 9 near Rocha. There were a good number of produce stalls along the road hoping to entice travelers to the beaches to shop. We stopped at one with shelves stacked full with jars of local honey, jams, and Dulce de Leche, along with wheels of artisanal cheeses. We purchased a Dambo, similar to Edam or Gouda. It is a traditional local cheese made with the milk from grass fed cows which graze freely in the palm tree studded, pampas rangelands, that define the region. Farther up the road we stopped for our “drive a little then café,” break at a small shop attached to a gas station in the uniquely named town, 19 de Abril.  The town takes its name from an event related the revolutionaries called the Thirty-Three Orientals, who returned from their exile in Argentina on April 19, 1825, an event that eventually started the Cisplatine War, which led to Uruguay’s independence from Brazil.

Normally in the states we avoid like the plague any eateries attached to gas stations, as they are typically places that just offer junk food, but route 9 traversed a semi-rural region, and there were few options. We were pleasantly surprised as we parked to see a mural of a painting by Simon Silva on the side wall of the café. We bought a poster of this image twenty years ago and it still hangs in our home, and it was nice to know that someone else enjoys the image as much as we do. The café Parador 19 de Abril delighted us. It’s a quaint oasis in the wilderness. The cappuccinos and fresh pastries were quite good, and the folks who ran it were very nice.

Folks were slipping and sliding through streams of water that were gushing down the hardpacked sandy roads of Punta del Diablo, as a deluge had descended upon us since our coffee break. The rain was too heavy to wander about, but we contented ourselves with driving through the haphazard layout of the oldest part of the rustic fishing village, that now has brightly painted shops and restaurants but is reminiscent of a village being founded by survivors of a shipwreck, using whatever materials they could salvage from the sea. Taking a horse drawn cart across the dunes was the only way to reach the once isolated village, until a road connecting it to Rt 9 was built in 1968. Larger flat bottomed fishing boats were beached along the gentle curve of Playa del Rivero, awaiting their next awaiting their launch at the arrival of high tide. A fisherman under a rain tarp offered his morning catch. Often during the Uruguay’s winter, June to November, the deep ocean just offshore allows folks to spot humpback and southern right whales breaching from the town’s beaches as they migrate north to the warmer waters around Brazil.

By the time we reached Aguas Dulces the rain had stopped, though the sky was still threatening, and the streets were nearly deserted. The high tide was rough from the earlier storm and was inching its way towards the row of boulders placed along the shoreline to prevent further coastal erosion and homes being swept away.  Laidback and low keyed, Aguas Dulces is a budget-friendly destination for Uruguayan families who enjoy its lifeguard protected beaches when the weather cooperates.

On the way to La Paloma we stopped at Puente Valizas, a picturesque riverside fishing village along the Arroyo Valizas. The tributary flows 10km (6mi) from the Laguana Castillos to the Atlantic Ocean, near the beach resort of Barra de Valizas. The river was busy with fishermen speeding to the Laguana to catch pink shrimp, which thrive in the brackish waters of the lagoon, for the restaurants along the coast.

In La Paloma the afternoon sky was brightening as we walked along the Paseo Marítimo, a boardwalk through the dunes that lined the tranquil waters of Bahía Grande, a small clam shell shaped bay. La Paloma is the largest coastal town east of Punta del Este and is a popular resort area with 20km (12mi) of beaches that are suitable for surfers and families with young children to enjoy.  Eventually we reached El Faro del Cabo Santa Maria, the town’s historic 42m (138 ft) tall lighthouse. Built in 1874, the powerful navigational beacon atop the tower can be seen 37km (23mi) out to sea. When it is open, folks can climb 143 steps to the top for some spectacular views of the coast.

On the way back to Faro de José Ignacio we followed Rt10 across the Laguna Garzón Bridge, an experience that totally took us by surprise, as the 2015 bridge has a unique circular design that resembles a flat donut. It’s really quite unusual but was designed this way to naturally slow the speed of traffic.

Our host and his family the next morning departed for a day trip a few minutes ahead of us. Their dog which watched their leaving from the second-floor deck had somehow escaped and was running frantically around outside the gated area. Fortunately, Donna has mastered that universal dog-call kissing sound, and we were able to lock him securely behind the gate. We called Daniel to let him know.

A few blocks down we stopped to photograph two abandoned properties. They were both very interesting, and we always wonder what the backstory is that goes with these places.

Route 10 hugs the beautiful 33km (20mi) stretch of wild undeveloped coast that extends from Faro de José Ignacio to Punta del Esta.

Reaching the outskirts of Punta we got our first glimpse of the Puente de la barra, a whimsical wavy bridge, that our route followed across the Arroyo Maldonado. Designed in 1965 to force drivers to reduce their speed, it’s said the rollercoaster-like bridge can cause vertigo if you drive too fast across it. On the Punta side there is a traffic circle that made it too easy for us to cross the bridge multiple times, just for the fun of it.

We stopped at a mirador near the “La Ola Celeste,” a stylized sculpture of a wave that overlooks the fast rolling breakers that beat against the waters of the Arroyo Maldonado as the river empties into the sea, and separates Punta from the smaller resort town of La Barra, which has a vibrant nightlife that rivals Punta’s as the best place to party in Uruguay.

This was also a great spot to get an expansive view of the dramatic beaches along the coast and Punta’s modern skyline, which often prompts folks to refer to it as “the St. Tropez or Monaco of South America.” The vista reminded us of Miami Beach.

We stopped for lunch at the Aura Beach House, a small modern café with a light menu, set on the brilliant white sand of Playa La Brava. They also have several rows of lounge chairs under nicely thatched beach umbrellas for daily rent. It was a beautiful, relaxing spot and our food and coffees were excellent; we didn’t want to leave. We found in our travels across Uruguay that street parking was always free, even along the beaches, something that is very rare in the United States.

We weren’t sure what the weather was going to be like the next day, so we took advantage of the splendid afternoon and stopped at The Hand, Punta’s most iconic landmark since the Chilean artist Mario Irarrázabal installed it along the oceanfront in 1982. It was very crowded with a tour group, but we waited for their departure before taking any photos. As it turned out the sculpture was within walking distance of our hotel, and we returned to it several times during our stay in Punta.

We continued on our way to the Faro de Punta del Este lighthouse that stands on the highest point of the narrow peninsula that was Old Town Punta, a whaling port established in the early 1800s.  

Punta, like Montevideo, has a lot of public art on the streets we realized as we drove by the Monumento El Rapto de Europa. The large bronze sculpture references the myth of Europa, a Phoenician princess who was abducted by Zeus in the form of a bull and taken to the island of Crete.  Why it is on a street corner near the beach in Punta, we haven’t a clue. Across the street from the lighthouse were several architecturally interesting homes and the very blue Nuestra Señora de la Candelaria church which had a lovely tranquil interior.

At Punta’s modern marina, sleek motor yachts and sailboats now bob gently in the water where the whaling ships once anchored. The first tourists to Punta arrived in the early 1900s, but it wasn’t until the infrastructure improvements of the 1940’s supported the construction of modern hotels and the town’s first casino that Punta’s reputation as a luxurious destination in South America was cemented. We stayed in the Old Town at Hotel Romimar, a budget-friendly lodging with an excellent breakfast, off Av. Juan Gorlero, Punta’s main shopping street.

We love exploring a new city early in the morning as it wakes up. By 7:30 beach attendants were hard at work carrying lounge chairs and umbrellas from trailers parked along the street, down to the sand and assembling them into tidy rows for their expected sunbathers. It was the perfect time to re-visit The Hand, as the sun was just cresting over its fingertips, and sunlight was reflecting brightly off the row of high-rise condos that fronted the coastline.

Wandering about we spotted several cachilas, old cars that out of economic necessity were lovingly maintained and passed forward through hard times. Some are now totally restored and look as good as the day they rolled out of the showroom. One, an old Plymouth, was creatively covered in a mosaic pattern of old Uruguayan coins.

Families were also out early to claim their preferred batches of sand at Playa El Emir, a small beach on the edge of Old Town Punta with a wonderful view of the coastline, near the Ermita Virgen de la Candelaria. The shrine to the patron virgin of Punta del Este is located on a narrow sliver of land that juts into the South Atlantic Ocean, that is believed to be where the Spanish explorer Juan Díaz de Solís held a mass when he landed nearby in 1516. Our “walk a little the café,” breaks were satisfied that morning with excellent coffee and pastries at Donut City and Cresta Café. Both were only a short walk from the beach.

A day trip the next morning took us to towns west along the coast from Punta that also interested us. Our first stop was at the Escultura Cola de la Ballena Franca, an open wire metal sculpture of a whale tail that overlooks the ocean between the endless beaches of Playa Mansa and Playa Cantamar. It is a popular lookout spot for southern right whales during the peak of their winter migration between July and October.

Casapueblo  is a surreal Guadi structure that captures the essence of the whitewashed cliffside homes on the Mediterranean island of Santorini, Greece. It started as a small wooden shack in 1958, the studio of Páez Vilaró, a Uruguayan abstract artist. He expanded it himself along the oceanfront as his family grew, and friends like Picasso and Brigitte Bardot visited, until a whimsical 13-story structure with 72 rooms stacked upon each other covered the cliff face. Today it is a museum and hotel.

Afterwards we drove to the Laguana del Sauce and enjoyed a quiet lunch overlooking the lagoon from the Hotel Del Lago.

Away from the oceanside a rural landscape quickly unfolded as we drove through farmlands to the Capilla Nuestra Señora de la Asunción, a pretty church that reminded us of settings in the American Midwest.

The next morning, our last full day in Uruguay, we headed west toward the Canelones wine region near Montevideo, an area which produces nearly fifty percent of Uruguayan wines at vineyards which were started four to five generations ago by families which immigrated from Europe. Piriápolis is a small coastal city which grew from a private investment as the country’s first planned resort was along our route. El Balneario del Porvenir (the Resort of the Future) was the vision of Francisco Piria, a wealthy Uruguayan businessman, who in 1890 bought 2700 hectares (6672 acres) of undeveloped land along a beautiful beach, 99km (62mi) from Montevideo. He spent forty years commissioning hotels and a promenade along the oceanfront, which he likened to the French Riviera, before his death in 1933. In 1937 the population of the resort town was large enough to be declared a pueblo, and twenty-three years later it achieved the status of a city. From the landing of a small chapel atop Cerro San Antonio we had a perfect panoramic view of the city that still draws visitors to its beach where families can rent scooter cars for their children to wheel along the promenade. During the high season the Aerosillas Piriápolis chairlift whisks tourist from the marina to the top of the hill. The Castillo de Francisco Piria, the entrepreneur’s home, was on the outskirts of the city as we headed to a wine tasting and overnight stay at the Pizzorno Winery & Lodge.

We arrived at the winery as a tractor pulling a wagon full of just-harvested grapes was being unloaded into a destemmer-crusher, the first step in the long process to create wine.

Founded in 1910, the fourth generation of the Pizzorno family operates the wine estate. It has 21 hectares (52 acres) of vineyards planted with Tannat, Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc, Petit Verdot, Merlot, Pinot Noir, Malbec, Arinarnoa, Marselan, Sauvignon Blanc, Chardonnay, and Muscat of Hamburg vines.

We were the only guests that afternoon during the last week of February and thoroughly enjoyed the interesting tour of the wine cellar led by Joaquin, the winery’s sommelier. He   explained their viticulture philosophy which endorses “traditionally harvesting grapes by hand, respect for the ecosystem, environmental conservation through a no fertilization and watering wisely policy, along with green pruning, leaf removal, and bunch thinning to obtain the best grapes, which is reflected in the quality of the wines we make using only our own grapes.”

Afterwards Joaquin’s experience continued to enhance our tasting of four wines as he shared his knowledge of the vineyard’s terroir, and the different grape varietals, along with their aromas, flavors, and recommended pairings with food.

It was our last night of our 15-day trip around Uruguay and we treated ourselves to a luxurious stay in the winery’s posada. It was for many years the family home until it was creatively restored into an attractive boutique inn with four guest rooms overlooking a pool and the vineyards.   

“You will have the posada all to yourselves tonight. Enjoy the pool, and feel free to walk through the vineyard. A nightwatchman will arrive later.”  The golden hour was upon the vineyard as we cooled off in the pool. 

This surely dates us, but it felt like we were in an episode of the TV show Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous hosted by Robin Leach, who used to sign-off with “Champagne wishes and caviar dreams.”

Till next time,

Craig & Donna