Ola Uruguay Real Estate and Investments

In December, the pace of life in Montevideo increases to a dizzying velocity with end of year parties, Christmas preparations, the culmination of school and study, end of year deadlines, and the festivities of New Year. And then… everything stops. Businesses close for “licencia” and public offices operate at half capacity. There is stillness in the capital. Everyone has gone to the beach.

January 1st dawns with most Montevideans packing up their belongings (sometimes half the house) and heading to the coastal resort towns of Atlantida, Piriapolis, and Chuy—or any of the tiny villages in between.

Some Uruguayans family will revisit the same holiday destination that has been a tradition for generations. Some families prefer the wild rustic nature of villages like Valizas or Cabo Polonia, while others adore the traditional pastoral beauty of Las Flores or Esmeraldas.

“It makes sense,” one Uruguayan friend told me, “that most people should take holidays in January, especially the first 15 days. With New Year’s Day and Dia de Reyes (January 8th) already set as holidays, one just needs to take a few more.” And so it is. Those left back in the city walk around with forlorn looks as if they were wishing that they too could be at the beach.

Of course, none of the vacationers mind the crowded supermarkets, the packed buses, even the extra noise and activity at the beach. These are the summer holidays and it seems, for holidaymakers, it is all just part of the scene.

Uruguayans quickly settle into a different pace of life. Most important in this new routine seems to be the twice-daily pilgrimage to the beach. At about 10 in the morning and then again at 4 in the afternoon, the sidewalks fill with families headed toward the sand, loaded with the mandatory beach items—folding chairs, beach umbrellas, materos (thermos, yerba mate, and mate gourd carrying cases), teja games (something similar to the Italian bocci game), towels, drinks, biscochos, and kids’ beach toys are all part of the cargo. The walk is slow and maybe even slightly reverent.

Upon arrival, each family sets up camp. On the busiest beaches, families are crammed side by side, yet no one seems to mind. Parents sunbathe, chat, share mate, or just catch up on missed sleep, while grandparents shuttle little ones in and out of the water, and kids find new friends as they build castles and moats.

Soon all the belongings are gathered once again in their respective bags to be carried back to the beach home. Children will be bathed or settled for a nap, an asado might be cooked, the family might go out for an ice cream or a walk through the tourist shops, and then, after a few short hours, the pilgrimage will begin again.

One well meaning American friend of mine commented to an Uruguayan, “So then, when you return to your job in February, you must really work to make up for lost time?” And the well natured Uruguayan replied, “No, January is the month when we make up for all the time lost throughout the rest of the year.”