Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Scooting between Argentina and Uruguay
This morning when we woke up we learned that it was Mexico Day. The Mexican from Monterrey had declared it so. He’d strung up a large Mexican flag in the courtyard of our Buenos Aires hostel and was holding a smoking cigarette while singing a Red Hot Chile Pepper’s song. A scruffy looking Greek was singing along. The Greek was carrying the tune. He knew the lyrics better than the Mexican. Empty liter bottles of Quilmes, Argentina’s national brew, were strewn about their table. It was 9:30 a.m.
They invited us to join them, even though we were armed with coffee. They, the Mexican informed us, had been drinking nothing but Quilmes since last night. It was the proper way to usher in Mexico Day, he said before joining the Greek in a Sheryl Crow tune.
It was hard to say good-bye knowing that we would be missing out on Mexico Day. For the past three days we laid low, sticking close to our hostel, and in the process made friends with fellow travelers. But we finally felt better and we were on our way out of Buenos Aires. We had a boat to catch.
We boarded a high-speed ferry to Colonia, an antique town across the Rio de la Plata from Buenos Aires. We picked up new passport stamps along the way. Colonia is our first stop in Uruguay. We plan to spend two weeks in this small country.
We arrived, found a room and changed money. Then we had a mission: find a moped for rent. It was not hard to rent a moped. Scooters and bikes seem to be the preferred mode of transportation in Colonia. The town is small; the streets are cobbled and thin. Cars are certainly used, but mopeds zip about in equal numbers. Quang declared himself our driver, I climbed on back, and we were off.
We’d had the scooter for an hour when Quang announced he was buying a moped as soon as we get home. Another hour passed and Quang wondered aloud whether or not we could rent one to drive all the way to Montevideo, Uruguay’s capital. I suspect scooters may be Quang’s new horse.
We zoomed through Colonia’s quaint, historic quarter, then moved on to the city’s newer addition with flat, paved roads. Quang let the scooter fly, screaming, “Open her up, baby, open her up!” He drove and drove and drove that scooter. We followed a two-lane road that wound along the river’s coast until the road didn’t go any more. At the road’s end we came to a deserted beach. The river, which is so wide it reaches the horizon and looks like the ocean, was pounding the white sand with violent waves and a lone man was taking his horse for a swim.
They invited us to join them, even though we were armed with coffee. They, the Mexican informed us, had been drinking nothing but Quilmes since last night. It was the proper way to usher in Mexico Day, he said before joining the Greek in a Sheryl Crow tune.
It was hard to say good-bye knowing that we would be missing out on Mexico Day. For the past three days we laid low, sticking close to our hostel, and in the process made friends with fellow travelers. But we finally felt better and we were on our way out of Buenos Aires. We had a boat to catch.
We boarded a high-speed ferry to Colonia, an antique town across the Rio de la Plata from Buenos Aires. We picked up new passport stamps along the way. Colonia is our first stop in Uruguay. We plan to spend two weeks in this small country.
We arrived, found a room and changed money. Then we had a mission: find a moped for rent. It was not hard to rent a moped. Scooters and bikes seem to be the preferred mode of transportation in Colonia. The town is small; the streets are cobbled and thin. Cars are certainly used, but mopeds zip about in equal numbers. Quang declared himself our driver, I climbed on back, and we were off.
We’d had the scooter for an hour when Quang announced he was buying a moped as soon as we get home. Another hour passed and Quang wondered aloud whether or not we could rent one to drive all the way to Montevideo, Uruguay’s capital. I suspect scooters may be Quang’s new horse.
We zoomed through Colonia’s quaint, historic quarter, then moved on to the city’s newer addition with flat, paved roads. Quang let the scooter fly, screaming, “Open her up, baby, open her up!” He drove and drove and drove that scooter. We followed a two-lane road that wound along the river’s coast until the road didn’t go any more. At the road’s end we came to a deserted beach. The river, which is so wide it reaches the horizon and looks like the ocean, was pounding the white sand with violent waves and a lone man was taking his horse for a swim.
