Great beaches – wherever they are – seem to have an incredibly short life span.  Once they’re discovered, in come the condos, the patio dining and the shops selling t-shirts and cheap boogie boards.  Natural oasis becomes man-made playground and the charm is lost.  The challenge, of course, is finding a beach before it reaches that point on the curve; i.e. with just enough amenities to accommodate the hardy traveler but none of the commercial excess.  Cabo Polonio, an isolated beach town on the tip of South America in Uruguay, fits that bill nicely.  I recently wrote about a stay there for the Toronto Star.

Cabo Polonio: A lonely but lovely Uruguayan beach

September 1, 2010; Remy Scalza – Special to The Star

CABO POLONIO, URUGUAY—It’s well past midnight when Joselo, the blind bartender with silver hair past his shoulders, brings up the story of El Pingüino.

“Four penguins washed up on shore,” he says. “I took them all in . . . but El Pingüino was special.”

Joselo is speaking by candlelight in his eponymous bar in Cabo Polonio, a tiny beach town about 150 miles east of Uruguay’s capital, Montevideo. The candles aren’t for effect. Cabo Polonio, a thirty-minute dune buggy ride from the nearest highway, has no cars, no paved roads and, apart from its signature lighthouse, no municipal electric power.

“When the bar would fill up, I used to bring [El Pingüino] out on the dance floor,” Joselo explains. “He’d walk right through the crowd . . . completely at home.”

Welcome to Uruguay, a place where dancing penguins hardly seem out of the question. A diminutive, Dorito-shaped country of 3 million wedged between Brazil and Argentina, Uruguay remains largely untouristed, nonglobalized and just plain quirky. Of the dozens of towns, cities and villages strung along its Atlantic coast, no two are alike. Cut off in capes, isolated on rocky points, marooned behind dunes, each has evolved along its own, often eccentric, path.

To read the full article on the Toronto Star website, click here.