Trienta y Tres, Uruguay

 I had two options to Brazil, riding along the coast or going inland.  The coastal route would be two hundred miles of beaches and resorts.  I could go swimming anywhere as by law everyone has access to any beach. I’d have many campgrounds to avail myself of including one run by the army with 2,500 tent sites.  

The resorts ranged from hippie/surfer hideaways to world-class luxury enclaves that attract hoards of Argentines and Brazilains along with jet-setters and the Uber-rich from all over the world, including the likes of the Prince of Monaco, Naomi Campbell, the Rolling Stones tailor and George Bush Sr.  One of the most notable private mansions is that of a Microsoft honcho.

That route had lots of attractions—a huge sea lion colony, the largest ombúes forest in the country, nudist beaches, a giant sculpture of a hand in the sand, a bottomless wealth of eccentrics and ostentation of many dimensions.  I knew it would be accompanied by lots of traffic and hubbub and the ilk I prefer to avoid, so I opted for the much less traveled interior route.  It has been idyllic cycling through uninterrupted pasturelands of cattle and sheep, riding smooth roads with a wide shoulder as good as I’ve ridden anywhere and hardly any traffic.  Though the country boasts over thirty million head of cattle, the highest percentage per capita in the world, they are widely scattered in the hilly, forested countryside.  I’ve only see two gauchos tending to them, both with heads bowed engrossed in their hand-held devices. 

Uruguay continues to impress, not only with the quality of its roads, but the paucity of litter, as little as I’ve encountered anywhere.  There is just an occasional plastic soda bottle.  It took awhile for me to scavenge three of them to supplement my four water bottles.  I’ve had to endure a late spring heat wave with the temperature in the 90s, getting me conditioned to what lays ahead in Brazil.  I haven’t even reached the tropics yet and I’m getting baked.  With the distances between towns of thirty miles or more, I wanted to expand my water reserves, especially for camping if I didn’t have a chance to refill late in the day.  I don’t mind at all the extra weight.  Running out of water is a concern I don't want to have, and now I don’t.

It can be a challenge at times finding water.  I pulled into one small town three bottles down, not a desperate need other than finding some shade for a spell.  The lone discernible store, a bakery, was closed.  I couldn’t find a water spigot in the town park. I asked two women sitting on a porch where I might get some water.  They pointed to a house down the street with an open door.  It was the unlabeled town shop, selling eggs and popsicles and other essentials.  I bought a popsicle and got my bottles filled.

The town of Minas, a former gold mining town and the furthest inland Darwin penetrated into Uruguay during his ten-week sojourn in the country in 1832, was large enough to have a tourist office. English-speakers come through so seldom, it wasn’t staffed by an English-speaker.  I was hoping to learn the significance of June 18 and October 8, as they are common street names. My guidebook’s list of national holidays didn’t include anything on those dates. It at least did explain the meaning of the town Treinta y Tres. That is the number of fighters who crossed the Rio Uruguay in 1825 to start the struggle for independence from Brazil.  They are further immortalized with streets in the town named after each.   Thirty-three is further appropriate for the name of the town as it rests 33 degrees south of the equator.

The WiFi in the tourist office was out of commission, nor was there any in its main plaza, as many towns provide.  I had to resort to a restaurant, which at least allowed me to use electricity for the first time to charge my iPad.  I had to use my French adapter, which I’ll also need in Brazil and possibly also my English adapter, as it isn’t consistent throughout the country.

Finding electricity isn’t too much of a concern, as I’m traveling with a fold-out solar panel along with my generator hub.  The sun has been intense enough to keep me well-supplied as I ride along with the three panels spread atop my gear over my rear panniers charging two batteries simultaneously with pedal and sun power. It’s too early to pass a verdict which charges faster. I wouldn’t mind some clouds to blunt the ferocity of the sun, but at least I can be happy with the greater charging power.  I can listen to podcasts all day and read ebooks off the bike to my hearts delight without concern of bottoming out.

Uruguay isn’t a cycling nation as is Colombia, nor has it provided any legs to the peloton as have Venezuela and Argentina and Brazil, but it does have a velodrome in Montevideo, in the same sporting complex as its soccer stadium.

There were quite a few cyclists in Montevideo, including the ubiquitous food delivery messengers on ebikes and others on rental bikes of the type found in cities all over the world.  In the evening hours out in the country I’ve seen guys in Lycra riding hard.  But the most heart-gladdening cycle-related site was a farmer with a bike-frame fence beside his house.

Uruguay is a country of enough affluence, second only to Chile in South America, that I can’t count on street food.  The closest thing is service stations with empanadas.  My most satisfying meal though has been an ice cold one-liter satchel of yogurt drink that I drank half of and used the other half on Cheerios.  I was craving another the next day, but didn’t pass through a town large enough to have a grocery store.

The lack of litter along the road is a strong emblem of a populace with an elevated sense of concern.  It is reflected in many ways, going all the way back to its origins.  It abolished slavery in 1813, well before Brazil, that waited until 1888.  It banned bullfighting in 1912 and the death penalty at about the same time.  Wind power covers more than a quarter of its energy needs.  It has continually been at the forefront of humanitarian issues.  It provides a greater percentage of its population to UN peacekeeping missions than any other country.  I regret I only have two more days to enjoy it before I cross into Brazil.