January 30-31

Yesterday we docked in Punta del Este, Uruguay. This port town boasts two kinds of travelers: the South American ultra rich people who own boats and cruise ship tourists who have to share a boat, and you can definitely tell the difference between the two.  The summering tourists in this beautiful beach town are dressed to the nines whether for a day at the beach or strolling along the boardwalk, continuing their running routine while on vacation or going out on one of the impressive yachts and sailboats.  Us cruisers on the other hand look comparatively bedraggled in our shorts and tees and Falkland Island ball caps and are easily identified by the maps in our hands.  Nice to be old enough to not care.  I never wore bikinis anyway – too short waisted, I was much hotter in a low cut tank suit.

We were given a map when we left the ship and had only one destination in mind – the Playa Brava (Fierce) with the drowning hand sculpture.  The Playa Brava is on the unprotected Atlantic side of the town and the Playa Mansa (calm) is on the bay side.  The huge La Mano de Punta del Este rises out of the sand and appears as all that can be seen of the drowning human who wishes she’d abided by the many PELIGRO signs all along the beach.  Of course, everyone ignores these and the red flags just like they do in California, and although the locals were surfing and swimming I’m sure it’s a given that inlanders drown every year at the beach.  Both beaches were filled with people on summer vacation and it looked pretty standard “beach” with umbrellas for miles and chairs for rent, kids like kids all over the world digging holes and filling them with water to make a lake, building rudimentary castles and dodging the wavelets that finally finish their journey on the sandy shore.

We took our photos and walked back. It would have been much faster if we’d just cut across town on our way there but oh well, we got a feel for the place.  Stopped for a coke and water and by that time I was nearing the dreaded Mary Wall.  We headed back to the ship and my idea to grab my suit and head back to Playa Mansa was shelved when I realized by the time I walked back to the ship after a swim, I’d be hot all over again. 

Went to our room and never left.  I’d hit the Mary Wall.  Hot. Tired. Over socialized even though everyone we have met on this ship has been engaging and fun.  This is not a Mexican Riviera “drink-til-you-drop-or-fall-overboard-or-suddenly-lose-the-person-you’re-traveling-with-as-in-the-last-time-I-saw-him-he-was-looking-over-the-rail-I-swear-I-didn’t-push-him” crowd.  I knew that today would be another city and as I may have established earlier (this has been a long trip!) I’m so done with cities.  I like to live in cities, but visiting them has lost its appeal, ESPECIALLY if it’s hot, which it is.  I shed a few insignificant tears of frustration just because I wish I wasn’t such a weenie and also because of the lingering Fear of Missing Out, but I’m getting better at realizing that’s just ridiculous and Al will have a much better time doing the free walking tour without worrying about whether I’m going to faint dead away or turn into Mrs. Hyde regretting my decision to come along at all.   The free walking tour is offered in most cities, takes about 90 mins give or take and is truly free except for tipping the local guide as you wish.  It is a wonderful way to get an intro to a city if you don’t want the intro Hop on Hop Off Bus which is a crap shoot whether it is worth it or not. (It definitely was in Glasgow, Scotland).   I’m in the Crow’s Nest. It’s noon and people are starting to return from their morning tours.  Montevideo from this vantage point doesn’t look like much and the heart of the city – old town – is just a few pretty towers.  

While I was sitting here a gentleman approached me and said “did you see the boat graveyard over here”? Sure enough out there in the bay are a bunch of boats of different sized and different stages of sinking.  As I write I watch two tugboats pushing a barges loaded with containers into and out of port.  This to me it just as interesting, if not more, than pounding the pavement to the next “sight”.  I do miss the history but even that not so much anymore.  Al just can’t get enough of it.  He did send me the photo of a store I’ll try to include, asked if I needed anything from there. Uh, no, I’m good, thanks.   

He just found me in my hiding spot and said he might go back out after lunch.  The man is a hot weather beast.  I don’t know how he does it except for the St. Louis, Missouri genes.

Went down for lunch a bit later and ran into mahj pal who was back from tour. We managed to throw a game together (we mahj players are kind of addicted) and plan to try to meet one more time tomorrow after our respective tours. I’ve been winning a fair amount which means I will be on a losing jag when I get home.

It is good for me to have a day of rest.  Tomorrow we arrive in Buenos Aires and I think we do some kind of tour but my brain is mush.  Al has told me about the next few days several times but I just don’t remember.  I know we spend the night on the ship tomorrow night and then Thursday we disembark and are met by our tour company that will guide us to Iguazu falls complete with airport transport there and back and luggage handling etc until they place us safely on our final flight to LAX on the night of Feb 6 for our redeye flight home.  

ps the photo of the tile is because as a quilt designer I can’t pass a cool pattern without photographing. I must have 50 photos of parquet floors inside the Russian palaces.

Still more to come!