Every person needs a bit of beach every now and then to bring the raging speed of life to a sudden halt, making space for thoughts, feelings and breathing.  

As my mother and I qualify for the people-category as well we certainly are no exception. In our search for our own little beach affair we mounted the bus to Pan de Azúcar, apparently famous for its look-out points and bright blue wells (a promo-poster shouted at me), from where the coast-bound vehicles were awaiting the sunbathers. As usual, being Dutch we were impressed with the endless flora and flowerage filled with absolute emptiness… as our country, which is even 7 times smaller than tiny little Uruguay, is stuffed with everything: houses, buildings, people and the only fields we have divided by the exact centimeter to serve agricultural ends. It’s such a delight to be in a country where landscapes just exist because they exist.   

The bus entered all beach resorts, including Cabo Polonio which I visited in 2014…  

… and in the meantime grew out from an authentic undiscovered gem to be a hipster hang-out for the young, wild and free / type: self-proclaimed vagabonds, after-grad chicks that travel for a few months and are all of a sudden arrayed with dreadlocks (or the head shaved at one side), unshaved armpits, wide patched pants in all colors of LSD, toe rings, hand-crafted jewelry with mystic symbols and maybe even that red Indian dot in between the eyebrows… yeah, you’ve seen them. But that’s fine, we went off 7km further at Barra de Valizas anyway, a destination that may very well be considered as the superlative degree of hippie. No electricity (only solar panels, which I’m a great supporter of) nor street lights, no paved roads, no banks, no big buildings… just a few sand roads and a handful of flower-power bohemians.   

And wherever there are hippies there is..? Right, vegan food. It’s a great travel indicator for plant-based globetrotters like me. So after I stacked up on soy, veggies and seitan we marched to the cabaña we reserved… almost causing a heart attack for both of us. 

Out of happiness, in my case. Out of pure shock by seeing how basic it was, in my mother’s case. She’s the all-inclusive-hotel-kind-of-type, I’m the let’s-initiate-crazy-adventures-kind-of-gal, which explains a lot. This chalet built of wood and recycled materials was a mishmash of scraps, bamboo, fishing nets, plants, renewable energy, hammocks, antique oil lamps, dogs, sand, waves, flip-flops, marihuana, campfire, guitars… Right! On! The! Beach!   

I simply couldn’t believe how lucky I was, she couldn’t believe where the hell she ended up this time. So while she was sitting on a chair processing, I ran around hysterically while making photos, climbing in things, touching everything, throwing sand in the air… in 2 seconds time I was a child again, that’s what this magnificent place does to you. Even my mom ended up liking it… eventually.   

The good thing about this kind of places is that there literally is nothing to do. We do so much in daily life that the best medicine for all our stress and mental issues sometimes is to just simply read a book in a hammock for 3 hours with a 2,5 liter wine bottle in hands’ reach. So that’s exactly what I did. That said, Uruguay offers a lot more legal stuff against any stress issues… usually growing in the backyard. While cooking us dinner in the cute improvised kitchen I found myself looking for some extra spices and herbs to fondle the taste buds. I glanced at my mom and then glimpsed at that fine flourishing weed plant next to me…   

She’s by far the most stressful person I know, would she notice? I’ll probably won’t get arrested for drugging my own mother, not in Uruguay, the 2 devils on both my left and right shoulder whispered. I quickly dreamed back about those student years in which I perfectionized my spacecake-baking skills (the joys of a Dutch childhood), and that evening in Cambodia in which I had enthusiastically devoured an ‘extra happy pizza’… after which I spent 5 hours (or 5 minutes, I couldn’t tell) in a tuktuk driving circles around Phnom Penh in order to find my hotel as I couldn’t remember what it looked like, or its name, or my own name… yeah, she would definitely notice, damnit.  

 

Instead, I easily reached my natural high just staring at the stars. The nights in Barra de Valizas flawlessly elevate you into another dimension, the spectacle of the night in this divine stretch of Earth is absolutely stupendous. With a big blanket against the chilly wind I installed myself in the hammock again, screaming out loud every time a shooting star formed a bright stripe in heaven. I saw it before, but every time it leaves me gasping for air again. I know I could wish upon a star in this case, but right here, right now, I had nothing left to wish for. I texted to a friend, “que suerte vivir” [what a fortune to be alive]… if you have all the tools to maximize your happiness, why not optimize it?  

My mom came out looking for me, hastily gazed up, said “yeah nice” and went in again. Quickly I whispered to the sky if I can come back on that no-wishing-case after all and prayed to the shooting stars to never allow my mind to become numb like that. Never let me stop enjoying the small things. 

I woke up to the energizing view of the Atlantic Sea, waving at me once I climbed out of the window onto our private balcony.   

I closed my eyes to inhale the salt breeze, mixed with the smell of fresh-baked bread and gluten-free food I never heard of before. Downstairs I heard a voice singing a song in a Uruguayan accent… Stefanie. Another vagabond, sleeping in a tent while helping the owner of the cabin (Mauricio) out, sang along lustily with the ballad of national folk hero Alfredo Zitarrosa, with goosebumps on his arms. A morning never felt so carefree. 

 

Time for some action. I looked down and wondered if those legs could bring me to the next village, Aguas Dulces, a barefoot beach walk of 8km one way. Bashed by the strong winds I glided past the savage sea, opening its roaring mouth to swallow you through its throat, licking your toes as an appetizer. I felt like I was flying, running against the tempest singing as loud as I could, feeling my whole body tingling.   

I collected the purple shells that the ocean had spat out on the beach like little treasures, not inferior to the beautiful streetart I would find on the walls of Aguas Dulces.   

Wandering over the sun-beaten paved (!) streets I wondered where that name came from, as for certain the only water to be found around here is salter than salt. Where Cabo Polonio attracts the youth and Barra de Valizas satisfies the more free-minded adults, this town seems to mainly cater to the sun-adoring seniors. Maybe that explains the depth of the wise slogans carefully colored on the walls…  

* Crooked translation: I went (away) to be happy, I don’t know when I come back. 

Barra de Valizas with its lovely people will warm my heart long after my departure, memories will travel along.  

Until we meet. 

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