Spring Moon of the Southern Cross
Montevideo, Uruguay 141 nautical miles east of Buenos Aires
Due to high winds the Captain hired a second tug and has pushed us into the dock sideways. Standing on deck as the ship moved straight in tbe direction I faced from my spot midway on the starboard side disoriented me. As if the earth had moved.
The dock here presents an old warehouse to our window, three stories high with metal doors stacked atop each other on each story. In the days before container shipping metal gangways must have been laid down between ship and warehouse, perhaps offloading by forklift.
Uruguay is the second smallest country in Latin America, about the size of North Dakota, with 3 million citizens.
At 12:30 pm I’m going on a walking tour of old Montevideo. It will be good to be on foot in a city though the back continues to complain. I remind my back that it just has to take it since we likely will never see Montevideo again.
It now seems the anti-gastro-intestinal illness protocols will not lift. We were fine from New York City through Valparaiso where we took on passengers booked only on the second segment of the cruise. Since then we have been exhorted frequently to wash our hands, wash our hands, WASH OUR HANDS. We can no longer serve ourselves on the Lido cafeteria either.
The protocols, designed by the CDC and mandated by the company at a certain illness threshold make sense, but they are a nuisance. Still, better than getting sick.
Six days from now we’ll be home so the trip has gotten down to days from a month, then weeks. Two days at sea remain and two days in Rio.
