We first heard about Punta del Diablo when we were at our hostel in Buenos Aires. At the time, we were in search of something quiet, something remote, and something with the ocean at its doorstep. Our fellow travelers, Rob and Caroline, had just been to the remote coastal village and their faces lit up when they described their visit. (We later found out that they suggested the beach to several other travelers and had also convinced them to go as well.) Of course their pitch to make our way up the coast of Uruguay to Punta del Diablo worked and we bought our boat/bus tickets to our first stop along the coast (La Paloma) the next day.

The second time we heard about Punta del Diablo was in La Paloma itself. We had visited an adorable restaurant, Nueva Bahia Chica, located just a few blocks from the ocean and immediately made friends with Victor, a local who frequented the restaurant every day. On our second visit to the restaurant, we asked Victor to recommend another beach for the remainder of our time in Uruguay. We asked that the new beach be similar to La Paloma, tranquil, and (preferably) as free from tourists as possible. Victor immediately responded by telling us about Punta del Diablo. And it was the way his eyes lit up, very much the way Rob’s and Caroline’s had, that confirmed in our minds that we would need to see Punta del Diablo for ourselves.
Although we had now received positive endorsements from three people, we were slightly skeptical if anything could compare to La Paloma for us. We had enjoyed our time there so much and had found so much peace that it was hard to imagine anything better. But, I think, the moment we stepped off the bus after our two hour ride from La Paloma (to the tune of $3.98 each), we both knew that La Paloma and Punta del Diablo would fall under completely different categories. One wasn’t better or worse then the other, they were just different. But it was this difference that captured our imaginations in Punta del Diablo and had us day dreaming about simply buying a cabaña the next day, never to return to the States. (Or, at least, not to return for a while. And no worries, Moms and Dads, we didn’t buy one. Yet.)

We spent our first hour in Punta del Diablo marveling at the sheer adorableness of it all. Tiny shacks, makeshift shops, cottages, cabañas, and what have you lined the roads...well, what one would loosely define as a road. It seems that only one of the roads had a name and none of the roads were paved. (Instead they were comprised of sand in various states: very packed, lightly packed, or basically like a beach you drive on.) The sound of the ocean crashing against the rocks and rolling onto the beach surrounded us on three sides. And we saw, literally, at least 15 dogs sleeping in the sun or wandering down the paths in just those first few minutes after our arrival.
(It should be noted that there were probably about 100 dogs in the village and these are not just dogs, they're dogs. I'm talking German Shepards, Golden Retrievers, Rottweilers, and even a St. Bernard, casually strolling around, looking adorable, and searching for a human to adopt for the day. It appears to be a regular occurrence in rural Uruguay and outdoor dogs seem to be as common as outdoor cats in the States. After the initial shock wears off, it's quite a delight to see a big, drooling, furry thing walking along in front of you on the beach. For the worried readers among you, I won't mention the day we saw the Rottweiler chasing a car full-speed down the hill...that, I must admit, was a bit, um, impressive. The car, Rotti, and innocent bystanders are fine though, no worries there.)

Our next hour in Punta del Diablo was spent walking around in search of lodging. Given the size of the village, this took all of about 20 minutes. But in that stretch of time we passed dozens and dozens of places advertising their availability for rent. (We were visiting during the off-season, which we recommend highly not only because the prices are lower but because there are less tourists too.) Unfortunately, they advertised their services with a phone number to call and, well, we didn't have a phone available. (Not to mention phones in Uruguay are an entire adventure all unto themselves....) And so we continued walking until we saw a beautiful white building up on a nearby hill overlooking the ocean about 500 meters below it. Given the size of the building (two stories and about half a block long), we guessed it was a hotel and a good place to start inquiring about available rooms. We decided if it was under $30 (which is a bit higher then we'd prefer to pay for a night's stay), we'd go ahead and book for one night and then spend the rest of the day looking for cheaper lodging.
As it turned out, the available room we were shown in the Hostel del Diablo was exactly $30. And upon seeing the room for the first time, it took us a whopping 3 minutes before I looked to Tim and said, "Ok, how about we just stay here for all 4 nights?" Not only was it a beautiful private room with it's own private bathroom, but it had two gorgeous doors (with airy, bright orange curtains that danced in the wind) that opened onto a private terrace. And, this is the kicker, our terrance had an absolutely breathtaking view of parts of the town and all of the ocean below. So, yup, we were willing to sacrifice ourselves and rough it.

Although the room was more then we like to pay, the room and everything it offered was exactly what we needed at that moment. (Not to mention we still stayed below our daily budget without any effort during our entire time there.) I know it might sound funny given what we're currently doing, but after the hectic months (hell, the hectic year) which led up to our departure from the States, Tim and I needed a comfy place to, well, basically get away from it all. (As it turns out, consolidating two apartments, selling all your earthly belongings, preparing to leave the country for twelve months, and quitting your jobs tend to add a wee bit of stress to your life. Not to mention it takes away any time for yourself and your partner. Huh, who knew?)
And so Punta del Diablo was able to give us that space, that time to just be again. And now we both understand quite well the look in the eyes of our friends when they urged us to go visit the most tranquil place in the world. In the days to come, we'll try to share a bit more of this little piece of heaven. In the meantime, though, it's suffice to say that we are very, very happy.

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And hurrah for free-roaming puppies!
Dogs running wild .. adorable village .. ocean .. sand.. sun…cottages = You Are In HEAVEN !
If I close my eyes really tight, and get into my Zen place, breathe slow, deliberately, I can almost imagine that I'm ther…NAH…damn phones keep ringing!
Pet a pooch for me and enjoy each moment!
Love you post. I am planning to visit BsAs and might wonder off to Uruguay. Your La Paloma & P d Diablo posts really make me want to be there right now. Since I travel alone, is that generally safe in such a small town from mugging and such?
Your La Paloma & P d Diablo posts really make me want to be there right now. Since I travel alone, is that generally safe in such a small town from mugging and such?
Absolutely. Both La Paloma and Punta del Diablo felt completely safe and welcoming to us the entire time we were there. We're generally very safety-conscious people, but in both of those places it wasn't something that ever needed to cross our minds.
So when are you planning to be in South America? We miss it so much!