As tourists in Argentina we have 90 days before we are obligated to
renew our tourist visa in order to stay another 90 days. There are two ways we can renew our visa: leave the country for at least four hours, or head to microcentro (the city center area) and stand in lines to pay for a visa renewal. Since we spend countless hours standing in grocery store lines each week we opted to look into leaving the country, and we learned the the simplest way to do so is to take the ferry across the river to Colonia, Uruguay and walk around the town long enough to legally re-enter Argentina with a new lease on Buenos Aires life. Woo hoo!
renew our tourist visa in order to stay another 90 days. There are two ways we can renew our visa: leave the country for at least four hours, or head to microcentro (the city center area) and stand in lines to pay for a visa renewal. Since we spend countless hours standing in grocery store lines each week we opted to look into leaving the country, and we learned the the simplest way to do so is to take the ferry across the river to Colonia, Uruguay and walk around the town long enough to legally re-enter Argentina with a new lease on Buenos Aires life. Woo hoo!The ferry company, Buquebus, offers two options for traveling across the river: the fast ferry, which takes one hour, and the slower one that takes three hours. So we booked seats for four on the fast ferry,departing at 8:45am, and a return at 4:30pm. The boys were excited but actually a little bit bummed out because they had to miss a day of school (a complaint Erin and I were happy to hear), but once we piled into the taxi with the long-haired, mate sipping driver who spoke a mile-a-minute and drove even faster, Quinn and Jack were all smiles.
The whole ferry terminal experience was impressive. The first line to check in moved quickly, and soon we were in the migraciones line to take care of leaving Argentina and entering Uruguay. Two customs officers sat next to each other in a small booth, first the Argentine woman who quickly scrutinized our passports and handed them to the Uruguayan customs officer who just as quickly peered into our pages and awarded us the official entry stamp. So efficient! Then we were on our way to the large waiting room with a view of the ferries, where we entertained the boys by reading a few chapters of Ramona and her Father from the Kindle app on our iPhones (not as good as reading from a real Kindle, but having destroyed our second fragile machine we are now reading off the phones and laptops).
There are two classes of service on the ferry, but we found no reason to
sit in first class. As far as we could tell the only differences were that first class is on the second level of the ferry, one sits in a large chair in a group of three leather thrones surrounding a low, round table, and instead of getting up to stand in the fairly short and quick-moving snack bar line, one is served by a ferry attendant. None of the perks left us regretting not paying the few extra dollars. Our seats were also large and leather, and because we made sure to get to the front of the boarding line, the boys were rewarded with window seats. After Erin bought us a few medialunas for breakfast from the snack bar at the front of the seating area everyone was comfortable. The journey across the river was so quick that it took only one trip to the Duty Free store onboard (!) for me and the boys, and we were soon arriving in Colonia without any measurable peep from either Quinn or Jack!
Once we left the terminal building on the Uruguayan side we soon decided to walk toward the old town section of Colonia, an approximately ten block by five block neighborhood dotted with one or two-story buildings, small tourist shops and boutiques, and restaurants offering seafood or parilla meals. Some of the streets are cobblestoned with trees lining both sides, and for the most part tourists from the morning ferries seemed to be making up the bulk of the foot traffic.
Our first stop was along a harbor area where there were small sailboats moored and restaurants with shaded tables along the water. It was too early to sit down and eat anything, so Erin and I watched the second hand crawl around our watches while Jack chased ants along walls and Quinn kept asking how much longer until lunchtime. Wandering along the shore we saw the glass and bulb of the local lighthouse above some roofs and beelined toward it. When we got to the entrance we were disappointed to learn that only visitors eight-years-old and above were allowed inside and up the spiral staircase to the top. I heroically volunteered to remain behind with Jack while Erin
and Quinn explored the heights, and Jack immediately registered his anger by picking up a small stone and chucking it in the direction of the man sitting inside the open door. Luckily he missed the doorway, the glass door propped open, and, therefore, the man sitting inside issuing tickets, hitting instead a large plastic garbage can next to the entrance, producing a loud bang that I immediately pretended I knew nothing about!
Once I took Jack more than a stone's throw's distance from the lighthouse, across the street and into a nearby alley, I entertained him by having him work on "throwing" a small piece of styrofoam into the wind and working on distance records. Of course, most of his attempts ended up landing behind him, which left Jack giggling hysterically and hurling his next attempt with even more vigor. Soon he had forgotten his anger at being excluded from the lighthouse adventure and all was well with him.
Soon we rejoined Quinn and Erin and sat down at a restaurant in a small square (it's visible behind Quinn in the picture of him atop the lighthouse), where we had a nearly two-hour meal that included time for Jack to sleep on Erin's shoulder while I had my daily cortado doble. After lunch we wandered through a few boutiques and killed our last hour eating ice cream along the main street leading back toward the ferry terminal. A short sugar-fueled walk later we were back at the Buquebus check-in counter and in line to hand our passports back to the Uruguayan and Argentine custom agents, the latter leaving us with another 90 days to spend in the country before we leave - we actually leave six days after our second allotment of 90 days, and at this point we're not sure whether we'll brave the lines in microcentro or pay whatever the fine for overstaying our welcome. Stay tuned!
The whole ferry terminal experience was impressive. The first line to check in moved quickly, and soon we were in the migraciones line to take care of leaving Argentina and entering Uruguay. Two customs officers sat next to each other in a small booth, first the Argentine woman who quickly scrutinized our passports and handed them to the Uruguayan customs officer who just as quickly peered into our pages and awarded us the official entry stamp. So efficient! Then we were on our way to the large waiting room with a view of the ferries, where we entertained the boys by reading a few chapters of Ramona and her Father from the Kindle app on our iPhones (not as good as reading from a real Kindle, but having destroyed our second fragile machine we are now reading off the phones and laptops).
There are two classes of service on the ferry, but we found no reason to
sit in first class. As far as we could tell the only differences were that first class is on the second level of the ferry, one sits in a large chair in a group of three leather thrones surrounding a low, round table, and instead of getting up to stand in the fairly short and quick-moving snack bar line, one is served by a ferry attendant. None of the perks left us regretting not paying the few extra dollars. Our seats were also large and leather, and because we made sure to get to the front of the boarding line, the boys were rewarded with window seats. After Erin bought us a few medialunas for breakfast from the snack bar at the front of the seating area everyone was comfortable. The journey across the river was so quick that it took only one trip to the Duty Free store onboard (!) for me and the boys, and we were soon arriving in Colonia without any measurable peep from either Quinn or Jack!Once we left the terminal building on the Uruguayan side we soon decided to walk toward the old town section of Colonia, an approximately ten block by five block neighborhood dotted with one or two-story buildings, small tourist shops and boutiques, and restaurants offering seafood or parilla meals. Some of the streets are cobblestoned with trees lining both sides, and for the most part tourists from the morning ferries seemed to be making up the bulk of the foot traffic.
Our first stop was along a harbor area where there were small sailboats moored and restaurants with shaded tables along the water. It was too early to sit down and eat anything, so Erin and I watched the second hand crawl around our watches while Jack chased ants along walls and Quinn kept asking how much longer until lunchtime. Wandering along the shore we saw the glass and bulb of the local lighthouse above some roofs and beelined toward it. When we got to the entrance we were disappointed to learn that only visitors eight-years-old and above were allowed inside and up the spiral staircase to the top. I heroically volunteered to remain behind with Jack while Erin
and Quinn explored the heights, and Jack immediately registered his anger by picking up a small stone and chucking it in the direction of the man sitting inside the open door. Luckily he missed the doorway, the glass door propped open, and, therefore, the man sitting inside issuing tickets, hitting instead a large plastic garbage can next to the entrance, producing a loud bang that I immediately pretended I knew nothing about!
Once I took Jack more than a stone's throw's distance from the lighthouse, across the street and into a nearby alley, I entertained him by having him work on "throwing" a small piece of styrofoam into the wind and working on distance records. Of course, most of his attempts ended up landing behind him, which left Jack giggling hysterically and hurling his next attempt with even more vigor. Soon he had forgotten his anger at being excluded from the lighthouse adventure and all was well with him.Soon we rejoined Quinn and Erin and sat down at a restaurant in a small square (it's visible behind Quinn in the picture of him atop the lighthouse), where we had a nearly two-hour meal that included time for Jack to sleep on Erin's shoulder while I had my daily cortado doble. After lunch we wandered through a few boutiques and killed our last hour eating ice cream along the main street leading back toward the ferry terminal. A short sugar-fueled walk later we were back at the Buquebus check-in counter and in line to hand our passports back to the Uruguayan and Argentine custom agents, the latter leaving us with another 90 days to spend in the country before we leave - we actually leave six days after our second allotment of 90 days, and at this point we're not sure whether we'll brave the lines in microcentro or pay whatever the fine for overstaying our welcome. Stay tuned!
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