Ah, Uruguay. I want to go back.

We took the high-speed Buquebus ferry from Buenos Aires to Colonia del Sacramento on New Years Eve day, a one-hour ride across the Rio de la Plata in the morning, another hour back to Buenos Aires before dinner that evening. A good day-trip. Colonia del Sacramento is a World Heritage city, the oldest in Uruguay, originally founded in 1680 by the Portuguese. The original street plan and many of the old buildings still stand in the historic district.

We were expecting an historic, yet lively and slightly exotic, city something like Cartagena, Colombia.

We underestimated the effects of Colonia’s much smaller size (population of about 20,000 compared to Cartagena’s 900,000), the fact that a holiday started that evening, and perhaps also the magical peace of Uruguay’s culture.

Dogs slept in the streets, opening only a moderately interested eye when a car passed by every ten minutes or so. Cats preened on the tops of cars and in open windows.

The historic district was even quieter than the rest of the town. All the museums were closed for the holiday. The few tourists dutifully checked out the few tourist shops that were open and looked at the historic buildings, notably an old lighthouse whose top offered lovely views over the old town.

Otherwise the tourists sought a shady spot against the heat of the day. What else was there to do? Those dogs and cats had the right attitude!

The streets in the newer part of town were shadier and also livelier. (I confess here that the boundary between the newer town and the historic district, where the old city wall no longer existed, wasn’t always clear, and some or even most of these pictures may technically be in the historic district, though not the oldest part of it.)

We spent a pleasant half hour or so in a clothing store that featured unusual items, all made in Uruguay, chatting with the shop owner. There were no other customers. There was no hurry, plenty of time to enjoy the company.

There was plenty of time, too, to sit in the grass under a tree by the edge of the broad river and read a book. Until the wind picked up and like other tourists we sought the shelter of a sidewalk cafe, perhaps one shaded by bougainvilleas as big as trees.

Somewhere during the course of this magical day, the mind slows down and the heart grows deeper and consciousness takes a slow curving turn at right angles to all other states of mind ever experienced up to this point. Life is better than good, here in Uruguay. Every slow moment is delicious. A week here would be world without end. We have to come back.