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Uruguay – ferry, bus from Buenos Aires!

by AirBnbAll you can flyArgentinaBunes AiresFreedom 50MontevideoTravel memoriesUruguayVolaris - AYCF!

As part of my 2024 trip—which took me through Central America and into South America—I made a stop in Uruguay. Getting there was easy and inexpensive thanks to a short ferry ride from Buenos Aires across the Río de la Plata.

It was one of those classic travel decisions: cheap ferry, new country, zero downside. So
 why not?

That’s one of the underrated perks of slow travel—when borders are close, transport is affordable, and curiosity wins.

I did not know what to expect as I had not read much about Uruguay. It was just the fact that I was so close to getting to experience it, and I took advantage of dropping another pin on the map. 📍🌏

Montevideo has a great beach walk, very nice cobblestone downtown, and friendly people, but I do not need to go back.  There was nothing that stood out like most Countries other than my Airbnb. 

I have never experienced so much pride in the presentation of this place.  Every little nook and cranny had something awesome displayed and check out the view from the bedroom!

The couple who ran the Airbnb were architecture lawyers from Argentina, and their background showed in every detail. Their shared love of music and antiques turned the place into an absolute gem—not flashy, just deeply thoughtful.

The lobby alone set the tone. A full wall of antiques, each piece clearly chosen with care, paired with calming music that made you slow down the moment you walked in. It didn’t feel like a rental—it felt like someone’s personal sanctuary that they happened to share.

It was one of those stays where the space itself becomes part of the travel experience. Honestly, that Airbnb left more of an impression on me than the city itself—and that says a lot.

There were hundreds and hundreds of trinkets throughout the property—every room, every corner, every shelf had something interesting to notice. During the day, jazz music played softly in the lobby, setting a calm, timeless mood. In my room, there was even a record player with a small collection of old jazz records. Sitting there, listening to vinyl and staring at the bookcase, felt almost meditative.

The Airbnb itself was about $25 a night, perfectly located between the main street and the ocean in Montevideo. You really couldn’t ask for a better setup.

It was hands down the best Airbnb experience I’ve ever had. Not because it was luxurious, but because it was thoughtful. Every detail felt intentional, personal, and cared for—and I’m genuinely glad I got to experience it. Some places stick with you because of what you see outside. This one stayed with me because of what was inside.

After spending the previous week in Argentina, the food scene in Montevideo was a bit of a shock—in the wrong direction.

Coming off Argentina’s absolute paradise of steaks, flavor, and value, these two meals were both underwhelming and overpriced. Not terrible in a dramatic sense, just disappointing enough that you immediately stop ordering food with any enthusiasm.

To be fair, I didn’t go to Montevideo for the cuisine—and after Argentina, that became very clear. Sometimes travel is about incredible meals. Other times, it’s about the place, the stay, and the experience around it.

I played it safe both times and ordered the house special, mostly because I honestly didn’t know what else to order.

On the left: two hot dogs buried under what felt like five pounds of cheese. Just
 not good. At all.
On the right: a meat plate that ran about $50, and when I cut into it, it was practically raw.

After a week of steak perfection in Argentina, this was a rough landing. I wasn’t expecting miracles, but I also wasn’t expecting hot dogs drowned in cheese or an expensive plate of meat that never met a grill properly.

It honestly may have just been bad luck both times. That said, after paying $50 for food that was raw and borderline inedible, I was beyond annoyed. I ended up calling my credit card company—and they refunded the charge without hesitation. It was the first time in my life I’d ever done that, which tells you how bad it was.

Thankfully, Montevideo redeemed itself in other ways. The city itself is relaxed and walkable, the coastline is beautiful, and that Airbnb more than made up for the food disappointment.

Between the thoughtful design, the music, the ocean proximity, and the price point, it was an incredible stay—especially considering how inexpensive it was. Sometimes travel works out that way: the meals miss, but the place, the vibe, and where you rest your head absolutely deliver.

A Brief History of Uruguay

Uruguay’s history is shaped by its position between two giants—Argentina and Brazil—and by centuries of struggle over who would control it.

Indigenous Roots

Before Europeans arrived, the region was inhabited primarily by the CharrĂșa people. They were semi-nomadic hunters and resisted colonization fiercely. Tragically, most of the CharrĂșa population was wiped out during the 19th century, making Uruguay one of the few South American countries with a very small remaining Indigenous population today.

Spanish vs. Portuguese Tug-of-War

Unlike much of South America, Uruguay wasn’t immediately colonized. Spain and Portugal both wanted it, largely because of its strategic location along the Río de la Plata.

  • Colonia del Sacramento was founded by the Portuguese in 1680

  • Spain countered by establishing Montevideo in 1726

For over a century, control of the region shifted back and forth between the two empires.

Independence & Artigas

Uruguay’s path to independence was complicated. The country’s national hero, JosĂ© Gervasio Artigas, led resistance movements in the early 1800s, advocating federalism and local autonomy.

After periods of occupation by both Argentina and Brazil, Uruguay finally became an independent nation in 1828, largely as a buffer state to prevent conflict between its neighbors.

20th Century: Stability & Reform

In the early 1900s, Uruguay earned a reputation as one of the most progressive countries in the world:

Early adoption of free public education

Separation of church and state

Strong labor protections and social welfare programs

This era gave Uruguay the nickname “the Switzerland of South America.”

Dictatorship & Recovery

Like many Latin American countries, Uruguay experienced a military dictatorship from 1973 to 1985. Democracy was restored peacefully, and since then, Uruguay has been one of the most stable, democratic, and transparent nations in the region.

Modern Uruguay

Today, Uruguay is known for:

Strong democratic institutions

High quality of life

Liberal policies (early legalization of same-sex marriage and cannabis)

A calm, understated culture compared to its neighbors

It’s not flashy. It’s not chaotic. And for many people, that’s exactly the appeal.

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Buenos Aires, Argentina! âšœđŸŸïžđŸ€€đŸ„©

by AirBnbArgentinaBunes AiresTravels Deals

When I was laid off in February 2024, the very first thing I did was start planning a trip through Central America and South America. I’d been there before, but seeing South America again felt different this time—less rushed, more intentional, and exactly what I needed.

The journey started in Phoenix and unfolded like this:

Phoenix → Los Angeles 🚌

Los Angeles → Guatemala → Costa Rica → Peru ✈✈✈✈

Lima → Chile → Argentina → Uruguay → Guatemala → Los Angeles → Phoenix ✈✈✈✈✈✈✈

Along the way, I visited multiple cities in each country, took my time, and let the trip evolve as it went. Every stop had its own rhythm and personality.

That said, one place stood out enough that it deserved its own post: Buenos Aires.

There’s something about Buenos Aires—the food, the architecture, the pace of life—that makes it linger in your head long after you leave. So instead of trying to cover everything at once, I wanted to slow it down and give that city the space it deserves.

Buenos Aires, Argentina—It was absolutely unforgettable!

 

I took the bus to Los Angeles, then used my Volaris all-you-can-fly pass to work my way through Guatemala, San José, and on to Lima.

The pass costs about $200 per year and runs on availability. In real life, I’ve rarely had issues—if you’re flexible with timing and routing, there are almost always seats open.

It’s a perfect example of how cheap flights can unlock big trips. With a little patience, that single pass turns Los Angeles into a gateway to Central and South America.

Once you’ve paid the $200, the prices get kind of ridiculous. I could fly from Los Angeles to Guatemala for about $80. The same plane continues on to San JosĂ© for another $30. I’d done both routes before, so I knew I could push as far south as Lima and then switch airlines.

From there, SKY Airline took me from Lima to Santiago, and then on to Buenos Aires—which was fantastic.

I hopped a ferry over to Uruguay for a few days, then back to Argentina, back to Lima, and finally used my Volaris pass to get the rest of the way home. The result: a surprisingly long, surprisingly affordable trip.

Now—let’s focus on Buenos Aires (BA), since the intro mirrors my Santiago, Chile post.

This was my $20-a-night studio in a high-rise near downtown Buenos Aires. The accommodations were cheap, the food was even cheaper, and the value was off the charts.

To get oriented, I jumped on the double-decker bus and knocked out all the tourist traps in one go—easy, efficient, and worth every peso.

When people think of legendary sports figures from Argentina, two names usually come to mind almost immediately:

Diego Maradona
and

Jorge.

Yes—Jorge.

More formally known as Lionel Messi, whose full name is Jorge Lionel Messi. In Argentina, he’s earned the rare privilege of first-name-only status—right alongside Maradona.

Maradona represents the raw, rebellious, almost mythological side of Argentine football. Chaos, genius, controversy, and magic all wrapped into one flawed human.
Messi represents precision, consistency, and quiet brilliance. A machine built for beauty. Different eras, different personalities—but both are stitched deep into the country’s identity.

You don’t need to follow football closely to feel it here.

Murals.
Jerseys.
Taxi conversations.
Corner cafés with TVs permanently tuned to replays.

These men aren’t just athletes in Argentina—they’re cultural landmarks.

Maradona’s legacy is shouted.
Messi is spoken of with reverence.

For context, Maradona earned 91 international caps, scored 34 goals, and played in four FIFA World Cups. His crowning moment came in 1986, when he captained Argentina to victory in Mexico—delivering both the infamous “Hand of God” goal and the “Goal of the Century” against England in the same match.

Messi’s story is different—longer, quieter, more surgical—but no less historic. His arc completed itself when he finally lifted the World Cup in 2022, cementing what many already believed.

Both were revolutionary in their own ways.

But as you walk the streets of Argentina, past walls covered in paint and memory, it’s easy to tell who the original folk hero was.

One name lives in legend.
The other lives in legacy.

Maradona

and Jorge

I also visited Boca Juniors, the club that Diego Maradona helped turn into a legend.

Their home stadium, La Bombonera, is considered one of the most famous—and intimidating—stadiums in the world.

Even empty, it has a pulse.

The impossibly steep stands, the tight neighborhood pressing in around it, and the history baked into the concrete make it feel less like a stadium and more like a shrine. It doesn’t whisper; it hums.

You don’t need a match day to understand why Boca—and Maradona—mean so much here.
You just have to stand still and listen and watch the fans interact.

I toured the neighborhood and the La Boca football museum!

Club AtlĂ©tico Boca Juniors is a professional sports club based in La Boca, one of the most iconic—and unapologetically colorful—areas of Buenos Aires. The club is best known for its men’s football team, which, since earning promotion in 1913, has never left the Argentine Primera DivisiĂłn.

Boca Juniors is the most successful club in Argentina, with 74 official titles, including:

35 Primera DivisiĂłn championships

17 domestic cup titles

Plus an honorary title awarded by the Argentine Football Association for Boca’s influential 1925 European tour, which helped put Argentine football on the global map.

Simply put, Boca Juniors isn’t just a club—it’s an institution.

Argentina is also famous for its steak and meat—very much in the same league as Brazil. And after touring La Bombonera, I had one of the best meals of my life.

I told the cook I wanted to try all the meats. He understood the assignment.

Sausage links.
Multiple cuts of steak.
A plate that arrived full
 and disappeared even faster.

It was gone before I even thought to take a picture—which, honestly, might be the highest compliment of all. đŸ„©

I ate steak almost every evening in Buenos Aires, and the portions were massive. A proper steak dinner would run about $12 USD, and more often than not, I’d be eating the leftovers for breakfast the next morning.

What really stood out was how the steaks were served. They weren’t just slabs of meat dropped on a plate—they were layered with extras like eggs, tomatoes, and other simple additions that somehow made the meal even better. No fancy sauces, no nonsense. Just quality beef, cooked properly, and paired in a way that made every plate feel both affordable and unforgettable.

I know I took pictures of just about every meal, but somehow I can’t find them as of this post—which honestly might be a blessing. Some things are better remembered than documented.

Below are a few representative shots, along with an article that dives into why Argentine steak is often considered the best in the world. It comes down to the cattle, the grass, the simplicity, and the culture around cooking meat. After eating my way through Buenos Aires, I get it.

Some cities impress you.
Others feed you so well that they ruin steaks everywhere else.

Argentina is also known as a true mecca for meat lovers, and many people argue it produces the best steak in the world. After eating my way through the country, it’s hard to disagree.

From grass-fed cattle to unique cuts of beef and time-honored cooking methods, Argentine steak is a craft—from start to finish.

You can’t talk about Argentine steak without talking about the cows.

While Argentina is home to several cattle breeds, the best beef comes from cows that graze freely on the legendary Las Pampas.

So what exactly are Las Pampas?

They span roughly 750,000 square kilometers of vast, mostly flat grasslands, famous for a temperate climate that produces exceptionally nutritious grass. Cows here spend their lives roaming and grazing naturally, rather than being grain-fed in confined spaces. The result is beef that’s leaner, more flavorful, and widely considered healthier than many alternatives.

Then there’s the cooking.

Argentina’s signature Asado technique is simple, deliberate, and deeply respectful of the meat. No heavy marinades. No distractions. Just fire, salt, time, and experience. The goal is always the same: let the quality of the beef speak for itself.

From pasture to plate, Argentine steak isn’t just food—it’s culture.

If you want to go deeper into why Argentina is considered the global capital of steak, you can read the full article HERE, which breaks down the land, the cattle, the cuts, and the traditions that make Argentine beef so unforgettable.

After experiencing it firsthand, I get the hype.

Argentina doesn’t just serve steak—
it sets the standard. đŸ„©đŸ‡ŠđŸ‡·

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Santiago, Chili – there was no chill here!

by AntiguaArgentinaBunes AiresCentral AmericaChileCosta RicaGuatemalaGuatemala CityLake AtitlĂĄnMira Flores (Lima)PeruQueposSantiagoTravels Stories

When I was laid off in February 2024, the very first thing I did was start planning a trip through Central America and South America. It felt like the right response—movement, perspective, and a chance to reconnect with places that had stuck with me before. Seeing South America again was just as incredible as I remembered.

The trip started in Phoenix and unfolded like this:

  • Phoenix → Los Angeles 🚌

  • Los Angeles → Guatemala → Costa Rica → Peru ✈✈✈

  • Lima → Chile → Argentina → Uruguay → Guatemala → Los Angeles → Phoenix ✈✈✈✈✈✈

I visited several cities in each country along the way, letting the trip evolve naturally instead of rushing through it. Every stop had its own rhythm, but one city stood out enough that it deserved its own post:

Santiago.

Set against the Andes, Santiago surprised me—in good ways and a few unexpected ones. So rather than trying to cover everything at once, I wanted to slow it down and give the city its own space.

Santiago, Chile—that story comes next.

I took the bus to Los Angeles, then used my Volaris all-you-can-fly pass to work my way south:
Los Angeles → Guatemala → Costa Rica → Lima.

The Volaris pass costs about $200 per year and is based on availability. In reality, I rarely have any issues using it—there are usually seats open if you’re flexible.

Once you’ve invested the $200, the pricing becomes almost ridiculous. I could fly from Los Angeles to Guatemala for about $80, and that same plane continued on to San JosĂ© for another $30. I’d already done both of those routes before, so I knew Volaris could reliably get me as far south as Lima.

From there, I switched airlines.

I used SKY Airline to fly from Lima to Santiago, and then on to Buenos Aires—which was an excellent leg of the trip.

After Buenos Aires, I took a ferry over to Uruguay for a few days, then headed back to Argentina and returned to Lima. From there, my Volaris pass kicked back in and carried me the rest of the way home.

By mixing an all-you-can-fly pass with low-cost regional airlines, I was able to move through Central and South America efficiently—and incredibly cheaply. It’s a perfect example of how flexible routing and inexpensive flights can turn a big trip into a very affordable one.

$57,950 Chilean Peso = $61.02 US Dollar

Santiago is a massive city, and one of the things that stood out to me immediately was the level of visible poverty. In some ways, it reminded me of my first experiences in Brazil—that sharp contrast between modern city life and deep, systemic hardship existing side by side.

I took a day trip to ConcĂłn, a popular resort town known for its dunes, beaches, boardwalk, and nightlife. The destination itself was polished and relaxed, but the bus ride there told a different story.

We passed through several small towns along the way. Kids were playing soccer in open spaces surrounded by trash—laughing, running, fully present in the moment. It was striking and uncomfortable at the same time.

I’d seen this before in Brazil, and seeing it again was a reminder of how widespread poverty can be across parts of South America. Informal housing climbing hillsides, communities built wherever space allows, and families making the best of what they have—it’s impossible not to notice when you’re moving through the region by ground instead of flying over it.

Travel like this has a way of pulling you out of abstractions. The inequality isn’t theoretical—it’s right outside the bus window. And while places like Santiago and Concón have their beauty and energy, those moments in between are often what stay with you the longest.

The biggest highlight of my time in Santiago was visiting Metropolitan Park of San CristĂłbal Hill. Getting up high above the city completely changed my perspective and made it crystal clear just how massive Santiago really is.

From the top of San Cristóbal Hill, the city stretches endlessly in every direction, with the Andes looming in the background and neighborhoods blending into one another as far as the eye can see. It’s one of those viewpoints where everything clicks—the scale, the density, and the complexity of the city all at once.

Pictures never fully capture it, but they come close. I’ve included a few photos (and a video) here, and I hope they do it justice. Standing up there, looking out over Santiago, was one of those quiet travel moments where you just stop and take it all in.

After a fun ride up, we finally reached the top—and somehow, the view was even better than what we’d seen on the way up. Standing there above Santiago, with the city spread out in every direction, really put its scale into perspective.

It was one of those moments where you stop taking pictures, stop moving, and just take it in.

At the top of Cerro San Cristóbal, there’s a beautiful little church that feels quiet and understated compared to what comes next. Just beyond it stands the massive Virgen de la Inmaculada Concepción, watching over the entire city from above.

Seeing it immediately reminded me of Christ the Redeemer in Rio de Janeiro. Different scale and style, but the same feeling—these monuments aren’t just landmarks, they’re symbols. You feel their presence long before you understand their significance.

Standing up there, with Santiago spread out below, it was one of those moments where travel connects places in your memory. Chile and Brazil, different cultures and landscapes, but tied together by perspective, altitude, and awe.

Every time I visit a church somewhere in the world, there’s that familiar ritual—lighting a candle for someone you want to pray for, and leaving a small donation. It’s simple, quiet, and grounding, no matter where you are.

My mom used to do this all the time, later in her life. Every church visit meant a candle lit, a pause, and a moment of intention.

And I know—without a doubt—that a lot of those candles were a prayer for me. đŸ™đŸ»

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