Colonia

(Colonia-where the cars come alive)

When the alarm goes off, the rain is drumming down on the tin roof in the courtyard and I am dizzy and dehydrated. I feel that bad things are going to happen today. I have had two hours sleep. I was ill during the night and spent most of it in the bathroom. But it was my plan and we bought the fares in advance and we had to wait a ridiculous amount of time to get them in the first place so I get onto my wobbly feet, call a taxi for in half an hour and jump in the shower.

I have just started shaving when the buzzer rings. I jump out and pick up. It is the taxi waiting downstairs. Moments later, still dizzy, dehydrated and wobbly on my feet and now wet in places and with a half-shaved face, I am shouted at by the driver for taking too long. I am in no mood for discussions. It is a two-minute drive to my parents´ apartment. The rain is still slashing down. I get out, cross the road and ring the buzzer, now wet all over.

It will take a while before the day gets any better. The sea is rough, with bouts of wind hitting the catamaran from all sides and waves that are far too high for a river delta, even a big one, creating an exceptional demand for plastic bags in the duty free shop. Somehow I manage not to be sick. I suspect this is because I have nothing left in my stomach to be sick with after my night of agony on the toilet.

Eventually the plunges and twists slow down and the grey-green outline of the coast appears in the windows. We get off, are whisked through immigration and find ourselves once again cold and in the rain outside the ferry terminal. We don´t have a map or any clear idea what we are supposed to do now we are here. So we grab a taxi and ask to be taken to a café in the old town.

The journey takes around forty seconds and essentially consists of turning round two corners. Of course we are charged a chunky fare. We are embarrassed by our cluelessness and pay without grumbling. The driver senses an opportunity and offers to pick us up again in two hours to give us a guided tour of the whole town for twenty-five dollars. In the absence of any other plan and thinking it might continue raining for the rest of the day, we accept.

It is midday and I have gone without drink or food since the night before. I don´t want to eat anything for fear of spending the day on the bog as well. Thankfully Jochen talks me into ordering a glass of cognac. As I am sipping it, the rocky waves in my belly begin to subside. I start to warm up and it even stops raining.

(our lunch table from above)

After two hours of pleasantly doing nothing, the taxi returns. We get in and are treated to a leisurely drive around the town. Colonia was founded by Portuguese and Spanish settlers and in the old town the way the streets are cobbled depends on which group lived there. There are remains of a town wall complete with a draw bridge and moat. The property market for the old part of town is booming and the simple one-storey stone structures fetch six-figure prices in dollars. Quite a few of them are painted in gentle tones of yellow or pink and there are flowers and weeds growing in cracks in the walls and coming up between the cobblestones. There are even two once elegant 1930s cars with bushes growing through their open roofs.


The rest of the town, if not the most interesting place in the universe, nonetheless has a quiet, safe feel to it that is a luxury after the heat and the traffic in the summer in Buenos Aires. Our guide slows down whenever we come to a house occupied by German immigrants or their descendants. We pass a bullfighting arena that was closed down when the paper industry left a few decades ago. Every now and then our driver stops and greets someone on the street. “Everyone knows each other here”, he says.

From Colonia the only thing you can see of Buenos Aires are the tops of a handful of skyscapers in Puerto Madero. In a few days I will start working in one of them.

(Jochen at the draw bridge)

We spend the rest of the afternoon eating, ambling about, dozing on a bench in the park and drinking too much cola. Our ferry goes back quite late but this is a good thing as the sea has calmed down considerably by then.

(my mother at the draw bridge)

In the end nothing bad happened. On the contrary. We had a very relaxing time, learnt a few things about Uruguayan history and took some nice pictures. But best of all, I discovered a taste for cognac and my mother promised to buy me a bottle before she leaves to help cure any future stomach troubles I might have.