A city reborn by Americanway

By samuel g. freedman

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A City Reborn

MONTEVIDEO, URUGUAY — long overshadowed by its sexy neighbor: Buenos Aires, Argentina — is now a desirable destination all its own.

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CLOCKWISE FROM TOP: downtown Montevideo, the capital and main port of Uruguay; 62 Bar; Punta Ballena; Francis, one of the most complimented restaurants in the city; guitar players outside Mercado del Puerto; a fruit-and-vegetable store on Perez Castellanos Street in Old Town

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP: WILL & DENI McINTYRE/GETTY IMAGES; COURTESY 62 BAR; WALTER BIBIKOW/GETTY IMAGES; COURTESY FRANCIS; VIVIANE PONTI/GETTY IMAGES; RICHARD CUMMINS/GETTY IMAGES

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standing on the terrace of my hotel room in Montevideo, Uruguay, one breezy and balmy night, I popped the cork on a bottle of brut from one of the country’s numerous vineyards and beheld the nocturnal landscape. For a dozen miles up and down the shoreline of the Río de la Plata, auto headlights traced the curvature of its riverside highway, as illuminated hotels, restaurants and apartment towers bristled against the dark sky. Judging by the steady activity, I was not the only one who considered the evening still young, though it was nearly midnight.

For me, it was easy to see the city’s wattage as part of a vigorous, optimistic era. During the four days I spent with my family in the Uruguayan capital, I saw and felt and tasted and imbibed the sense that this was Montevideo’s moment. The city was emerging from decades of being considered an afterthought among South A merican cities — a transit point on the way to the chic beaches of Punta del Este, Uruguay; the drab, respectable kid sister to sexy, flamboyant Buenos Aires, Argentina, across the Plata. Already endowed with a gorgeous waterfront and a talented, educated populace, Montevideo suddenly seemed hip — bursting with new boutique hotels, gourmet restaurants, art galleries and espresso bars.

I have to admit to a certain built-in affinity for Uruguay. The handful of my maternal relatives to escape Poland before the Holocaust were taken in by Uruguay when

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lives,” says Francisco Ravecca, a Harvardeducated Uruguayan who is managing direc tor of the Aguada Park free-trade zone. “You would talk to people about Uruguay, and no one would know what you were talking about.

But with more people getting down here and experiencing it firsthand, the word of mouth is working. I don’t know when was the last time we had it like this — if we ever did.”

Like many visitors to Montevideo, I com bined my visit there with a stay in Buenos Aires and some beach time in Punta del Este.

Our four days in Montevideo, full yet unhur ried, felt just right for its scale. We arrived on the Buquebus ferry from Buenos Aires, making a serene three-hour passage across

brass rail of something out of New Orleans.

Its menu includes a wide range of sushi and meal-size salads, ideal for a late lunch. For our final dinner in Montevideo, we chose Francis, by consensus one of the top res taurants in the city. Inconspicuously situ ated in a residential neighborhood, Francis flourishes its Mediterranean influences in its artisanal paellas, pastas and fish dishes.

(Rest assured, there is plenty of red meat on the menu as well.)

In terms of cultural attractions, truth be told, Montevideans often go by ferry or puddle-jumping plane to Buenos Aires for opera and theater. But galleries are springing up in Ciudad Vieja (the old city) along the pe destrian mall on Sarandí that runs from the exploring the city. shopping district surrounding Constitution The hotel’s greatest asset is its location, Plaza downtown toward the waterfront. A just across the Rambla from the riverfront. few blocks north of Sarandí, the Mercado del In my travel experience, no city except per - Puerto (Port Market) is a bustling array of haps Chicago has created a restaurants and craft shops. more expansive and acces The most stirring — and sible waterfront than Monte quintessentially Uruguayan I saw and felt video. Part of its democratic — art is to be found about 70 and tasted and and egalitarian political tra miles east of Montevideo on imbibed the sense a cape called Punta Ballena. dition — notwithstanding a that this was grim period of military rule There, the painter and sculp in the 1970s and early ’80s — tor Carlos Páez Vilaró built MONTEVIDEO ’s was a commitment to keep all an extraordinary museummoment. the attractive and valuable work shop -hotel ca l led land along the Río de la Plata Casapueblo. With its white, as a public resource. As a result, a pedes - peaked domes rising from a steep hillside, trian promenade runs more than 10 miles Casapueblo brings to mind Antoni Gaudí’s from Montevideo’s harbor to the outlying architecture. The Spanish influence is not neighborhood of Carrasco. The promenade accidental; as a young artist, Vilaró knew and connects beaches, parks, marinas and public monuments dedicated to such international vibrant colors and bold designs attest, he also heroes of peace as Gandhi and Kahlil Gibran. spent many years in Africa, as well as among Bars and restaurants, more casual than the African-descended Uruguayans who formal, fleck the route. I especially en - still practice the candomblé religious ritu joyed El Viejo y El Mar — named in honor als. He is such a cherished figure in Uruguay of Hemingway’s novel The Old Man and the that when the most popular mineral- water Sea — for its local fish, and the Rumi Resto brand wanted to mark its 120th anniversary, Pub for grilled meats. (Rumi also has live it decorated the commemorative bottles with music on weekends.) With its famous cattle Vilaró’s paintings. ranches and gauchos, Uruguay is well known On that particular night atop the Cala for its beef, so much so that a national joke di Volpe, the city lights eventually began says that you buy a parrilla (a grill) first and then build a house to go with it. The barbe - What has remained vivid, though, even all cue is best accompanied by Uruguay’s hearty these months later, is the sensation of a city homegrown red wine, tannat. coming into its own.

Meanwhile, though, a young generation of chefs has been broadening the local pal- SAMUEL G. FREEDMAN , who last wrote for American Way about Rome in the Dec. 15, 2012, issue, is the author ate. The 62 Bar, located about two blocks of the forthcoming book Breaking the Line: The Season from the Rambla and named for a trolleyin Black College Football That Transformed the Sport and bus line, has the tile floor, marble bar and Changed the Course of Civil Rights .

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Mercado del Puerto in Montevideo

the occasional panhandler along the Rambla, the riverfront roadway.

Almost a decade later, Montevideo seems reborn. The economy has boomed with jobs in software, telecommunication, informa tion technology and international trade.

Political stability has attracted investment, very much including the tourism industry.

The faltering economies in the United States and the European Union have convinced many of Uruguay’s sophisticated young ex patriates to come back home. When they did, they brought along cosmopolitan ideas about cuisine, art, shopping and lodging.

During my stay in Montevideo, I enjoyed that most smug emotion for any vacationer: the belief that I had found a gem of a place before the rank and file did.

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the Plata, which is far more like a bay than a river. We departed through Montevideo’s sleek new international airport terminal, which is just one more manifestation of the country’s economic rebound.

Montevideo has long had reliable hotels run by international chains (Radisson, Sher aton), but smaller, hipper, more personal ized boutique hotels now abound as well. We stayed at the Cala di Volpe Boutique Hotel, an urbane place drawing an international clientele. Eleven stories tall and with only 72 rooms and suites, the Cala di Volpe com bines intimacy with a wide range of services and facilities — a rooftop hot tub and fitness center, a charming restaurant featuring a

PANTA ASTIAZARAN/AFP/GE

virtually every other country in the West ern Hemisphere had closed its doors. But I am an experienced journalist and traveler, too, so when I first visited Montevideo in 2003 — doing research for a book about my mother and her family — I was cognizant of its status as a slumping city. The Argen tine financial crisis had dragged down its smaller neighboring nation. Relatives and friends spoke of those who had recently left the country for Europe, Israel or America.

There was palpable embarrassment about

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