The United Nations got there first. It’s a World Heritage site. But, Colonia, unlike, say Cartagena, may not seem so obviously a world heritage site. It is quiet in Colonia. Even sleepy. The contrast is great if you take the Buquebus ferry from the loud metropolis of Buenos Aires.
When you get off the ferry (which takes about an hour), it’s a twenty minute or so walk (depending on how much luggage you are carrying) to the old center of the town of Colonia. The international passport control for leaving Argentina and entering Uruguay are both done in Buenos Aires so it’s easy to just walk off the ferry and be on your way. Likewise, when you leave Colonia, the passport control to depart Uruguay and enter Argentina is literally at the same window. The two officials stand one foot from each other. It’s a little surreal in that bureaucratic way.
I really liked Colonia. A lot. I liked how civil and nice everyone and everything seemed to be. I understand that many folks from Buenos Aires take a day trip to Colonia when they need a really quiet day. I stayed overnight and I’m glad I did. I wandered around enjoying the fort, watching the local’s try to catch fish, the hand made ice cream, the seafood, and all that. But, mostly I enjoyed walking down cobble stone streets. There were so many and each one had a secret wine tavern or hidden artist’s studio or some other treasure for the photographically inclined.
An example of how unusual (to me) Colonia felt to me was what happened when I tried to cross the street. I was on my way to find the post office and I was following verbal directions so I stopped at an intersection. I got distracted by a kiosk in a park. Then I noticed something very odd. The few soft sounds of traffic had died down. I looked around at the intersection. All, wait, ALL, the cars and bikes had stopped. Waiting for me, the pedestrian, to make my move. Wow. I was flabbergasted. I did cross the street so that I didn’t cause a rush hour.
Another reason to visit Colonia is for the restaurant down by the sea wall where the waves lap up like silver applause (I’ll have to blog about it another time once I’ve dug up the card).
Next time I’ll rent a golf cart so I can explore more of the city. And feel the wind in my hair.
Plus, I want to stay at the lemon grower’s bed and breakfast. Also, I need to go back to that restaurant. AHA! I remember now. It was called Charco. I had one of the saddest eating experiences there. But more about that some other time.
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