Argentina – Uruguay, April 2019

During my trip down the western coast of Latin America, my parents join me for parts of the Chile/Argentina leg. The last days together we spend in Buenos Aires, visiting the numerous parks, a football stadium and lots of restaurants. Every now and then, the thought of crossing the Rio de la Plata to visit Uruguay comes up and on one of the final days, we take the chance. We buy tickets for the ferry and book the Uber for early next morning. The boat ride takes only an hour so it’s easily doable as a day trip.

The cab drops us off at the Colonia Express ferry terminal. We pass the border control (we’re leaving the country after all) and get our exit stamps. While waiting for the boarding to start, we wonder whether we will be riding on the big car ferry or the smaller passenger one (my dad who’s motion sick easily, obviously hopes for the former). And then it’s our turn. The staff leads us to the gate and we board… the passenger ferry.

When we enter the boat, the first thing see are the white plastic bags carefully laid out on every single one of the blue seats on the lower deck. We walk down halfway the aisle and choose 3 seats close to the window. As more and more people are boarding, most of them go straight for the first rows, facing the main window – and supposedly the best view. A lot of the passengers comment on the white plastic bags in many different languages too, but more in a joking rather than concerned manner. However, the jokes only last as long as we’re inside the protecting harbour walls.

Out on the Rio de la Plata, the water that’s smashing against the window to my left is as brown as the Amazon river and covers most of the view. The colour of the water is no different in the front, but here you at least can see a bit of the sky in between valleys of waves. Somehow the people in the front don’t seem too appreciative of the view though. 5 minutes into the 1-hour journey, the first passengers move a few rows back in the hope of a less bumpy ride. Another 5 minutes later we hear the first gaging sounds.

As the minutes pass, the conversation between my parents and me gets quieter. My way of fighting the nausea is trying to sleep. My mom concentrates on the horizon (whenever it’s visible) and my dad is in pure survival mode. Suddenly, I am awakened by my mom ripping the white bag from my hands. My first instinct tells me to hold onto this safety blanket. But then I turn around and see my dad’s bulging bag in his shaking hands. By now more than half of the passengers are reliving their breakfast or have already emptied their stomachs completely. Fortunately, we arrive in Colonia del Sacramento, Uruguay shortly after.

Unlike any other ferry I’ve been on, there is no rush to the gangway. Most passengers are holding onto 1 or more very full white plastic bags. A few are seated on the floor next to the bathrooms or trash cans which are overflowing with more used white plastic bags. It’s a horrible scene and I cannot get out of there fast enough. While we pass the Uruguayan border post, I bring up the topic of sea-sickness pills – and how I used them on the sailing trip from Panama to Colombia. My mother asks if I still had any left, and when I say yes, she glares at me: “WHY DIDN’T YOU BRING THEM TODAY?”

Long story short, we head to the next pharmacy and get the Uruguayan equivalent to the here prohibited pills I bought in Panama (they contain hallucinogens..). We try to enjoy touring the picturesque old town of Colonia. However, the thought of getting back on that boat in a few hours hovers in the back of our minds. During lunch, we get back to the topic of sea-sickness pills and I mention that it might be a good idea to take them now, as it takes a bit for them to kick in. My parents chase down 2 pills (as was recommended to me on the sailing trip) and I 1 with a gulp of red wine.

After a delicious dessert, we slowly make our way back to the ferry terminal. While strolling down the cobblestone sidewalk of the main street, my mom suddenly mentions how she feels a bit dizzy and wonders if that’s the wine. I myself don’t really feel anything, but my dad agrees with her. A bit later we’re sitting at a beach, waiting for the ferry, as I start to feel a bit of a high too and I only took half their dose. But hey, at least we’ll be safe from any further nausea! We’re extra happy about that when we board the ferry once again and see not a single white plastic bag on the whole deck. Needless to say, no one sits in the front row now. However, as we’re now cruising with the wind, there are zero waves and no puking passengers…

Check out another story featuring my parents and a few glasses of wine in Mendoza.