Ramblings About the Rambla – Spring 22

Uruguay is home to many interesting things on a tourist’s checklist: mate tea, Italian architecture, intimate barbecues called asados, and endless hidden-gem coffee shops. However, it’s little known that right in the heart of the country lies the world’s longest continuous sidewalk. La rambla, which directly translates to “the promenade”, stretches 22.2 kilometers along the coast of Montevideo and is maintained by the city for free public access. You may have heard of its famed beauty if you’ve asked the lovely Dra. Walker about her home city. Our house here is a fifteen minute walk from two gorgeous sections of the rambla along Playa Pocitos and Playa Ramirez that are definitely worth walking, but I took it upon myself during Spring Break to see every inch the rambla has to offer. In doing so, I was able to explore my host city freely and experience what it has to offer on my own time.

A marathon runner would have no problem accomplishing this in a day, but a marathon runner I am not. I split up the route over the week and bussed to and from the starting and pausing points each day, ending with a visit to a new café in the area. I walked the entire coastline of Montevideo along with the local people out for their morning jog. I counted the dogs (fifty-five), I admired the architecture (the casino was the grandest somehow), and I people-watched my heart out (most people stared right back, though that may have been due to my fantastic earring collection). The entire promenade is pretty from the 0 km post to the 22 km. There’s high-rise apartments closer to the inner city, smaller fishing villages near the outskirts, and miles of white sand between miles of green trees. It’s a gorgeous view if you turn toward the beach, only faintly spoiled by the endless stream of noisy cars on the road next to it.

Being on an adventure alone built my self-confidence quickly. Put yourself in my shoes: a shy small-town student on the other side of the world, foreign to the language and the public transportation system, striking out on their own. I made plenty of mistakes, but in doing so, I learned that the people here are kind and patient. Life is paced much more slowly here. The bus driver is more than willing to help you; the barista is patient when you need clarification (or the help of Google Translate); when chatty, the Uber driver may recommend literature to you on your ride back from class. Strangers aren’t held at such a strict distance as in the States, and the pleasant friendliness of Uruguayans is something I hope to bring with me for the rest of my life. After only three months, I feel welcomed into the culture and part of life here. My Spanish abilities have developed exponentially along with my speaking confidence – though I still can’t understand Don Quixote de la Mancha.

Sunset from the front door of Con Tutti, facing Obligado and Simon Bolivar (photo credit to Katy Wall)