Off-grid Goodness

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The last few days of travel have been special to say the least. We even began to wonder if the remainder of the trip could get any better.      

Both of our latest destinations had one  thing in common; they were both "unplugged". One on a windy peninsula surrounded by sand dunes, and the other a rural retreat surrounded by the Sierras de Rocha.

We arrived in Cabo Polonio, a random collection of beach dwellings, perched on the back of a massive, well worn truck that had seen its fair share of dunes. It rumbled its way through boggy sand and wide beach until landing in the midst of what could be described as an expression of pioneer practicality. Houses of all shapes, sizes and colours riddled the small piece of land. Each hosting an array of hand painted signs, solar and/or wind powered devices and squat black water reservoirs perched up high. Dr. Seuss would be inspired.
     
Our hostel was as charming and interesting as Alfredo, our host. Both have many facets and have seen a great deal in their time together. Lucky for us Alfredo loves cooking - especially on a tiny wood fired oven that my great grandmother would have thought inadequate.

Aside from exploring the beach, trying our hand at sandboarding and simply enjoying the mellow vibe our highlight was a meal prepared by our host. Although we could have eaten down at the beach at an itsy bitsy restaurant, we couldn't resist asking to sample his talent when a firewood supply truck arrived with a small pork leg stashed behind the seat; a special order for Alfredo.              
The meal was authentic, both in terms of its flavours and ambiance. On the porch were the MacIntyres and a nice German couple; tucked inside the warm kitchen/dining room/bar were Alfredo and a number of close friends - all enjoying the food and helping where they could.

The slow roasted meat and root vegetables accompanied by beer, wine and an ever attentive host were all so satisfying. Although there was scotch on offer I had to decline. My only regret.

As we left Cabo Polonio we were joined by Alfredo on the sand bus. He was on his way to visit a friend in hospital. Worried that the public health system may be lacking some comforts, he wanted to be sure that his friend was not lacking for anything. Cabo's community takes care of its own.

Two buses later we were sitting in  Rocha's lovely town square awaiting our connection to "Caballos de Luz ". It was Santiago who approached the cluster of Canadians huddled around their packs. "Santy", as we later called him,  was a bright eyed, smiley man sporting a reddish frock of dreadlocks. Beneath his gentle exterior was a brauny, tanned rancher with working hands to match.

The red pickup, filled with eucalyptus timbers for the youth center, rattled up to a pastoral farm like nothing we'd ever imagined. Two imacculate thatched cottages, horses casually wandering the yard, would be our home for the next few days.

We were greeted in the yard by our hostess Lucie.  With open arms, impeccable English and hugs for all, we were immediately at ease. Tall and slim with perfect posture and a mane of sandy dreadlocks, we knew that we were meeting the inspiration for the guest ranch; this was someone special.

Levi was immediately at home, his green eyes a little brighter. Dogs fetching sticks and gentle horses to feed kept him busy for hours. We may have a Gaucho on our hands.

Much the same as Cabo Polonia, this farm had an impressively tiny footprint. Solar power, water pumped from a local pond, walls made with adobe mixed with hay, compacted sandbag walls and composting toilets are just a few examples of the how living comfortably off the grid can be accomplished.

Not only was this a small ranch, but a larger community. The land was bought about ten years ago by a handful of people. They were hoping to secure it for more than a pulp and paper farm; something quite common when the economy tanked years back. Big money was buying up land for pennies. Santy told me that, much like other parts of the world, the rural population in Uruguay is in decline; that they want to do what they can to change that for their community.

So, why not build a community? Create a place that is compelling and gratifying, a place to call your own. On horseback we toured the area to see the communal homes, the youth center in its last stages of construction and the round, living roofed community hall where yoga and choral groups gather.  It is clear that both Lucie and Santy are heavily invested in this ideal; both financially and emotionally. In broken English Santy suggested that the hard work now would really pay off for the next generations to come. Wow.

Again, there was lots for us to do on the ranch apart from just soaking the place in. We hiked to the top of a nearby "mountain" where we left an inukshuck for posterity. We were given horse riding lessons by the resident horse whisperer - Lucie. Levi helped 'shoe' Quinn's horse, something that needs to be done every 4 weeks. The rocky terrain is hard on their hooves.

We had a great trail riding experience climbing up and down steep enbankments and riding the horses across and back the river. The horses were so well trained that Levi compared using the reins to a joystick- forward, left, right, reverse. Again, like in Cabo, the host was a consummate cook. Instead of a wood truck delivering her ingredients she grew her own.

Admittedly we were a little worried about an all veggie, all the time diet but we had no reason to fear. Each meal was complete and unique. From homemade bread and granola for breakfast to the most velvety polenta accompanied by potato pakora for supper. Lana, in particular, was over the moon at every meal.
                                              
We left feeling healthy and happy, wondering what a few months of this living could provide and feeling that our footprint back home is of mammoth proportions.