Archive for August, 2009

Galeria de Suspiros

On the Calle de Suspiros is the tiny Galería de Suspiros which, like all the other buildings on this Portuguese cobblestoned ’street of sighs’, used to be a a brothel. The paint has faded since last year when I first was in Colonia but the interior, which I had never seen, comes alive with floor to ceiling paintings of horses and beautiful women. The tiny kitchen appears less functional and more like a work of art itself. Along with the perfectly manicured interior courtyard and garden, this galeíra looks like something out of an issue of Home and Garden. The artist/proprietor himself is also beautifully manicured and I allow myself the momentary fantasy of settling down in Colonia del Sacramento. After all, it’s only 40 km from Buenos Aires, one hour by ferry, across the Rio de la Plata (the widest river in the world they say).

Every 90 days North American travelers to Argentina are required to renew their visitor’s visa. If one refuses to do this they must pay a fine upon departure and risk future consequences upon re-entry. Last year I chose to overstay my welcome and pay the $50 peso (< $17 CAD) fine at the airport. No big deal. I suggested (to no one in particular) that if they wanted us to abide by their rules they should make the fine more formidable – make a whole lot more money off our bad behavior. So they did. They increased it to $300 pesos! For those who wish to comply with the visa regulations, visiting Uruguay is the closest, least expensive and least time-consuming journey to make.

I booked the Colonia Express day-trip on-line for only $129 pesos ($38 CAD). This included a one hour guided walking tour and lunch which I thought I would just ignore and hunker down somewhere alone for the duration with my own book and writing materials. I didn’t relish the thought of making the trip and I certainly didn’t relish the thought of rising so early as to be at the Ferry Terminal before 7am. But it was surprisingly easy to get there earlier than was necessary. And, a good thing since, after I waited 15 minutes for the Buquebus information desk to open I found out that the Colonia Express is not operated by Buquebus so I had to take another taxi to the opposite end of Puerto Madero – not an easy feat at 6:45am. Luckily I had the help of a couple of nice police officers who flagged down a cab for me and even then, I still arrived earlier than was necessary to terminal and was quickly processed.

I arrived in Colonia on a holiday – the anniversary of the Independence of Uruguay in 1828 – three years after it was declared to Argentina, Spain and Portugal. Founded in 1680 by Portugal, it’s the oldest town in Uruguay with a current population of about 22,000. Being passed back and forth between Portugal and Spain several times before its independence shows in the original architecture and street design of the Barrio Histórico – now a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Portuguese cobblestone streets allow for water drainage down the middle and Spanish cobblestone streets allow for drainage down either side. Portuguese homes have sloped, clay-tiled roofs and Spanish roofs are flat. These buildings are protected and exist today side by side.

There’s virtually nothing to do in this sleepy little town – which can makes it a welcome change from living in Buenos Aires. With the holiday many businesses were closed and there were not a lot of choices of restaurants for lunch. The prices are like they are in most tourist towns – expensive. So, I decided it best to use the voucher included with my ticket. Sometimes being sola allows one to be seated quickly in this jam-packed restaurant. I had a perfect spot in the corner of the covered sidewalk. It was a glorious sunny early spring day and corner spot to watch the families strolling the streets and enjoying a leisurely meal on this mid-week holiday.

Maraya on the beach

I was allowed 3 choices and elected Chavito – a dish common to Uruguay. Except for the fact that the bread was the side, it was the best example of bad food combining I have ever seen in my life all heaped up on one plate. Although I asked them to leave the ham and bacon off my steak – I had to remove it myself. It was a good thing I didn’t require it Kosher either. I dug into the cheese covered piece of thinly sliced lomo and ate the fried egg separately with the french fries. There was a peculiar mix of diced and boiled potatoes, carrots and some kind of pickle, shredded lettuce and tomato. It was definitely an interesting full meal deal.

Last year Ian and I took the bus tour up the highway toward Montevideo to visit the world’s largest pencil collection. There were many things on site that held my attention longer than the pencil display. We also saw Colonia’s bullring, which hosted only eight fights before bullfighting was abolished, and we had the opportunity to feel the sand of the beach between our toes. This year, I am satisfied with finding a place on the grass to lean against the seawall and take in the first warm sun of spring – away from the traffic and grime of the big city.

I admit that I’m a bit Obsessive/Compulsive when it comes to efficiency. I don’t see any point in expending more time and energy than is required to get a job done. This appears to be a city, country, culture (not sure how far it goes) built on inefficiency. I’ve gotten used to what appear to be lazy waiters but who actually cover far too much of the same ground over and over. He (always he) saunters over expectantly to our table to greet us without a menu just to have to go back and fetch one. Then, depending on how we feel, sometimes gets sent to fetch another for the other of us. But, it’s not just the waiters.

Planning to come to BA for only a month this time, I did not pack my hiking boots (nor many other things that I quickly came to need). And, although I had fully intended to pack my running shoes – I forgot. Thus, the only decent pair of walking footwear I had were my Birkenstocks – very comfortable but not entirely appropriate for winter walking in a city where nobody (but me) wears Birkies (especially – heaven forbid – with sox!) any time of year. I ended up wearing out a pair of stylish flat boots, getting sore feet and even experiencing referred pain up my legs and into my hips and lower back. (The good news is that pedicures and reflexology treatments are incredibly inexpensive so I recovered quickly). I walk a lot here – I love to walk here – and I know how important proper footwear is for overall health. But, I also have ‘efficiency’ issues when it comes to spending money – especially when it comes to buying something I already own – even if it resides in another country. It was painfully apparent that I needed (not only another pair of boots but) some decent walking shoes.

I looked around with resistance for several weeks until finally, last week, I found the perfect compromise: not a runner (have those), not a hiking boot (have those) but a hiking shoe. I tried them on in my suspected size but they were a tad roomy in the toes – not much of a problem especially after suffering the discomfort of pointy boots for the past three months. I didn’t have my Visa card with me so intended to return the following week to purchase them.

***

Today I returned to the store and thought I would try on a half size smaller if they were available. Even a whole size smaller might work better.

“Do you have these in 7½?”

He goes to the backroom to check and I sit down to wait.

He comes out, walks past me to the desk where he pulls one shoe out of the box and brings it to me. It’s the wrong shoe.

“I only have it in this color”, he says and he walks back to the desk.

I sit there, NOT trying it on. I don’t want them in brown.

He returns and asks me how it is. I tell him I don’t want that color.

“Do you have the blue one in size 8 or even in size 7?”

He goes into the backroom, returns with one box, walks past me to the desk and brings me one shoe. It’s blue but it’s a size 6½.

“That’s too small, do you have a size 8?”

He goes into the backroom, returns with one box, walks past me to the desk and returns to me bearing one shoe. I try on the size 8 while he goes to the sales desk to answer the phone and ring up a sale – even though there are several staff members milling about. I wait. He looks over and I nod. He brings me the other shoe so that I now have an entire pair. This way I can actually walk, not hobble, around the store to see how they feel doing the job they were designed to do – more or less.

Just to be sure I confirm with him, “So, you have this shoe in size 8 and in size 6½ but not in size 7 or size 7½. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

He disappears while I walk about. The heels fit snugly, the toes offer plenty of wiggle room. I figure it’s the best I can do, I’m tired of looking and I have set a goal (long overdue) of having proper walking shoes by the time I make my day trip to Colonia tomorrow. I go to the sales desk with my intended purchase, pulling out my Visa card and ID. While I’m standing there waiting, my salesclerk reappears from the backroom. He has exactly the shoe I asked for 20 minutes earlier. What a surprise. I try on a size 7½ and they fit perfectly.

This is not the first time this has happened to me in a shoe store. I’m not sure if there is some hidden sales agenda, a secret retail tactic, that they use – having you try on all the wrong sizes &/or colors before the shoe you originally asked for magically appears. Maybe this is the way we are taught to appreciate our purchase so much more. I doubt that’s what it is.