Costaventura and Aventuras de la Costa

Marilyn, March 17, 2015

We've had the pleasure of spending the last week with our friends Karen, John, Megan, and Ryan from Atlanta.  It feels pretty special that they would travel all this way to see us, and we are making the most of their time here.  The kids have spent a lot of time biking around our neighborhood and hanging out at the beach.  One day we rented a canoe and a kayak and spent some time on a nearby river, discovering a sandbar full of crabs and watching huge flocks of water birds rise up as we paddled by.

Happy, our friends' visit coincided with Teo and Javy's tenth birthday on March 12.  Clearly, a rather extraordinary celebration was warranted.  A couple weeks ago, I had heard about a new adventure park not far from Atlántida called Costaventura.  I was pleased and a bit surprised to read on their website that they would be open weekdays in March, after the theoretical end of tourist season and the start of the school year.  I've learned enough about how things work in Uruguay, though, to know that I should call to confirm that good news.  When I did, I found out what I had suspected all along:  it's only open to the public on weekends.  However, I was told, they could open for groups of 10 or more by special arrangement on weekdays.  Ten or more?  Well, we were eight . . . and it turned out that that was enough.  Next problem:  the minimum height for most of the activities is 1.4 meters.  The birthday boys are shy of that mark by a good bit.  The congenial man I talked to on the phone, half in English and half in Spanish, assured me that it would be fine.   I confirmed with him in both languages that it would indeed be fine, confirmed again in writing via email, trustingly made the arrangements, and hoped for the best.

The best turned out to be pretty incredibly good.  We had only a minor glitch getting to the park, remedied by an unusually nice bus driver who pulled the bus over to ask a passerby which way we needed to walk after he let us off.  We arrived a little after the appointed hour and were met by Mateo, our host and guide for the day.  After outfitting us with all the equipment we needed for the ropes course, he gave us a safety lesson and we were off, climbing and swinging and tight-roping and zip-lining our way through 15 or so activities over the next hour.

It was great, full of new skills and fun challenges.  When we all landed back on the ground, we headed over to the trampolines.  The harnesses we wore allowed us to jump several meters and even the most ancient of us could flip dizzyingly forward and backwards.

The next activity was the craziest.  Teo and Ryan harnessed up and took the first turn, climbing up to a high beam, and whacking each other with foam pool noodles.  Ryan was the victor, knocking Teo off the beam, leaving him hanging about ten meters in the air.  Megan and Javy were up next, then Teo took on Gene.

Karen, John, and I all declined to participate in that particular activity, but we were brave enough join the kids on the next one, in which we were one by one raised up to a height of about twelve meters, allowed to free-fall briefly, and then swing back and forth like a pendulum.  There was a lot of screaming involved, but most of us agreed that it was awfully fun.

Having completed the activities that were most likely to induce queasiness, it was a good time to stop for lunch.  The café there at the park served us ravioli, which was a big hit.

The next event involved two teams working together to build towers of soda crates.  Each team's builder stacked the crates from the top of tower while two teammates held the ropes to his or her harness, and the fourth team member handed or threw the crates up to the builder.  Megan and Karen proved to be the most skillful builders, stacking ten or twelve crates.

Mateo told us that the record for the park was 33 crates, which was pretty hard to imagine.  When everyone had tumbled off the crate towers enough times, we headed for the dirt bike course, which turned out to be even more challenging and scary than some of the other activities.

We finished up with another circuit on the ropes course, and enjoyed a hearty snack back at the café. Very satisfied, we said our goodbyes to the accommodating staff, and headed for the bus stop

Getting back home was an adventure in itself, with a wait of about an hour and a half for the bus, but everyone thankfully remained in good spirits.  Empanadas for dinner and present-opening completed a most memorable day for two very tired birthday boys.

The next morning, we scurried around packing and taking care of details like changing money before getting ourselves into our rental cars and on the road east along the coast.  About three hours later, we arrived at our destination:  a bridge over a small river, around which were several ramshackle buildings and a few fishing boats.  Out of one of the buildings wandered a sleepy, disheveled-looking fellow who confirmed that yes, he was Marco, the guide that I had made arrangements with via text messages for a tour of the nearby ombú forest.  A couple of the kids needed to use the bathroom, so he led them to the back of his cluttered room, lifted a door off its hinges, and showed them to the toilet.  None of them liked the looks of it much, but were assured by Karen that there are many, many worse toileting facilities in the world.  Somehow in the intervening minutes, Marco transformed himself into a cheerful, energetic, and professional tour guide, and sat us down to explain, in Spanish, his work caring for the baby ombú trees in this area.  He's a living Lorax, this man, with a passion for these unusual trees and their ecosystem.  He patiently repeated himself as many times as necessary, making sure we understood his words and the importance of his work, gesturing to the kids and explaining that his vision was a healthy ombú forest that their grandchildren could come visit.  When he was assured that we understood, he called to a boat captain, shepherded us into a motorboat, and
we were off down the river.  The fifteen-minute ride afforded us some glorious scenery of the Uruguayan prairie and numerous sightings of waterbirds.

A few cows grazed right down to the water's edge, nosing their way between ibises and herons.  Marco explained that all this land is protected and owned by native Uruguayans who are committed to its conservation.  They have learned that the prairie can only support a few cattle, and they are careful not to overgraze it.

We docked in front of a half-completed structure that Marco told us was being built as a lodge for eco-tourists.  Two carpenters continued their work on the building as several dogs came out to greet us, and it was easy to see what spectacular potential this place has, isolated as it is on the river and on the prairie under an amazing blue sky.  Marco led us to the back of the property and into a large grove of ombú trees.  These plants, which some classify as shrubs rather than trees, can live for 200 or more years.  They grow layers of very soft wood which decomposes easily from the inside out, leaving hollow trunks growing in odd shapes.

One hollow branch made a great hiding place for a possum, who was none too happy about being discovered.

The trees tend to grow in clusters (Marco says that the idea that they are solitary is folklore) and the trunks can intertwine, creating even more unusual forms.

These two trees, Marco told us, are tangoing, so Karen and John decided to join in.

By the time our hour-long hike was over, I had a great appreciation for the ombú and its adaptive ability, but even more for Marco and his commitment to these trees and to the land that they occupy.

In Uruguay, the law says that if you're driving, even in the daytime, your lights must be on.  Newly arrived drivers from the U.S. tend to either forget to turn them on, and risk being stopped by the police, or forget to turn them off.  Both of our drivers, in fact, left their lights on the whole time we were off learning about ombú trees, and one of them arrived back to a car that wouldn't start.  Marco joined John and Javy in push-starting our car, and we were all very grateful when the engine came back to life.  Marco waved us on our way and an hour later, when we pulled into the parking lot at Cabo Polonio National Park, both drivers confirmed with the other that lights were in fact off.

Cabo Polonio is a small village at the tip of a cape that juts out into the Atlantic.  It's popular with surfers and others looking for off-the-beaten-track adventures.  It is so far off the beaten track, in fact, that the only ways to get there are on foot, horseback, boat, or 4x4 trucks that transport you about 7 km over the sand dunes.  We opted for the last method, bought our tickets for the 4x4, loaded on our bags and ourselves, and enjoyed a bouncy 20 minute ride to the little town.

After unloading, we had a brief walk though the "streets" of town to the hotel where we had reservations.  We were shown to our very small but pleasant rooms, and then were delighted to find that the hotel's terrace opened onto the beach and came equipped with hammocks and comfy chairs in which to sit and watch the waves.

The kids enjoyed both the hammocks and the waves for much of the afternoon, and when the sky got dark and the stars came out, it was downright magical.  A late dinner included very fresh fish and buñuelos de algas, a local specialty that is like a hushpuppy made with seaweed.

The next morning, we headed down the beach to the lighthouse, and the rocks surrounding it, where one of the largest colonies of sea lions in South America has established itself.  We were expecting thousands of sea lions, but most of them seemed to not be home that morning.  Nevertheless, we were excited to watch a few dozen bob through the water or sun themselves on the rocks.

Karen, the kids, and I payed a small fee to climb to the top of the lighthouse.  The view was amazing, and as we waved down to John and Gene, they hollered up to us that they had spotted a whale.  Sure enough, as we looked out over the water, we could see a sleek black shape with a dorsal fin rising out of the water.  Now we're wondering whether what we saw was actually a large black dolphin called a tonina that is occasionally seen in the area.

After another hour or so of rock climbing and beach combing and a lunch of more empanadas, we again boarded the 4x4 for the trip back over the dunes.  This time, we got a double-decker truck, and the kids got to sit up top.  We bounced our way to our car and before long were back on solid asphalt, headed to Punta del Diablo.  Our family had visited this beach town in December when Luke was with us; it was fun being back and feeling like we knew our way around a bit.

Our two days at Punta del Diablo were filled with a return visit to Karumbe, the sea turtle rescue and rehabilitation place, exploring Santa Teresa National Park with its wildlife rehabilitation area and its old fort, surfing lessons, pool time for the kids, and a bit of relaxation for the grownups.  Back home now from this quick and full vacation with good friends, and I am feeling deeply blessed by both!  (And I am also grateful to Karen for many of the photos I've included here!)