Tag: boardwalk

Back to the beach

I haven’t been to the beach with Benji frequently since we started walking with Syd and his five dogs in the wastelands (literally) of Villa Argentina norte. Variety of reasons: conversations with Syd tend to be considerably more interesting than conversations with Benji; Benji usually gets more sustained running given all the other dogs including rabbit scout Jordy; and I don’t have to throw a stick into the waves 20 or 30 times in succession.

But from time to time I am reminded of the age-honored saying that location is everything.

As in, we encounter no cows on the beach.

This was Benji yesterday, halfway through our walk. It may be just the exaggerated olfactory experience, but Syd and both thought Benji stayed closer to us for the rest of the walk than he ever has before. Excruciatingly close. Being able to see and not smell this, I must say he achieved a remarkable extent of coverage.

After two soap bath yesterday evening, and 20-30 plunges into the waves to retrieve a stick, it was only after he dried off that our living room didn’t smell like a barn.

So, what’s new on the beach?

I have posted before about the boardwalks that were poorly designed and maintenance-free. Now in Las Toscas (we live on the border) appears one built with posts that extend vertically to a metal handrail. Progress!

Meanwhile, at the end of Calle 3B, the boardwalk solution (B) has become unusable, while problem it addressed (A) has grown 2-3 times larger.

Seen from the other side: the boardwalk (B) is completely buried, while beyond (A) the dunes are completely blown away because of traffic through the gap.

Coming back from the beach, I note a number of wine cartons at the overflowing recycling bin — all with corks carefully replaced. Which means that someone at the recycling center will have to remove them, one by one, so the glass can be recycled.

Over the past couple months, trucks have dumped dirt at the park we pass through on the way back. Red arrows mark the vertical poles that are all that remains of the goal posts. The person who cuts the grass has carefully mowed around the mound of dirt (and rubble).

Is it to fix the field? Ya veremos — we’ll see.



Not that you care about our dogs, but.


Gita (origin Dogita, “little dog”), on the right, finds it a challenge navigating the boardwalk to the beach with continual flank assaults from the enthusiastic puppy.


Settled down, they have friendly a tug-of-war with a stuffed bear. Which, ironically (or not), was a gift from a cleaning lady to the third, and smallest, dog Bandito, the Shit-Zoo (Syd will appreciate this spelling).

Pecking order? Notice the paws.





Southern winds

We’ve had several days now of persistent, on-shore wind. Here in Uruguay, off-shore points to Antarctica. Yeah, it’s been chilly. And I’m finally feeling righteous about finally having a proper winter jacket! (Purchased last November in Miami, when we were heading into summer here.) And so, for the first time in six years, we had a wonderfully mild winter, one that barely required a winter jacket.

I’m not implying causality, for the record. But, erm, uh … Uruguay, thank me if you will. It’s been pleasant, no? But this cold wind….

The Rambla (beachfront road) in Parque del Plata has always had a ridiculous stretch that half-fills with sand during the winter. Prior to tourist season, a front-end loader and dump truck appear, scoop up the offending dunes and deposit them upstream in the Solís Chico river, making a nice little beach for the locals. Which can then wash back down the river, into the sea, and — OK, let’s not go there.

This year, they have their work cut out for them, thanks to these cold southern winds.

OK, you can’t see it, but the sign says “Calle Cerrado,” which means … well, it’s not the name of the street.

Meanwhile, the dune — above the boardwalk built to prevent further erosion of dunes — has gotten high enough that today I walked through the neighboring gap instead. Sort of like the gap where they built the boardwalk. But, hey.

Today I approached through the gap to the right, rather than expend the effort to surmount the dune formed above the gap the boardwalk was built to “solve.”

Except for a 6-month amazing stint in Lincoln City, Oregon (1986-7), I have never lived near a beach, until the last six years, and the constant changes fascinate me.

Unlike my father, I’m not an engineer. Nor as smart. But I don’t think I’m thus unqualified to ask, what exactly are we not “getting” here?

OK, forget it: nature is amazing.