Last year, Buenos Aires gadabout Matt Chesterton filled us in on the boutique hotel scene in the city. And wouldn't you know, we needed a place to crash after our long trip to Uruguay. (Our flight was out of Ezeiza airport in BsAs.)
So we looked up La Cayetana, after reading Matt's dead-on description:
Here's a boutique where the designers (Estela Fitere and Silvina Tarrio) have devoted more than 10 minutes and a few phone calls to their scheme. A perfect blend of restored original features (the mosaic floors, the high bare-brick ceilings, the free-standing tubs) and modern conveniences (Wi-Fi, etc).
We really enjoyed our one-night stay, and our full review, complete with another video tour is after the jump.
Once again Matt Chesterton has returned to HotelChatter. All week long he will be schooling us on the hot hotel scene in Punta del Este, Uruguay. Any tips, suggestion or questions? Send 'em our way and we'll have Matt answer them for ya. For now, sit back and enjoy.
We end our seagull's-eye swoop along the Uruguayan coast by going a few kilometers inland, to the wee town of Garzón.
Garzón doesn't look like a vacation resort. It doesn't even look like a town. If it had a Wikipedia entry, we would link to it. But, like all communities in Latin America that can be placed somewhere on the spectrum between hamlet and city, Garzón has a town square, a church, a general store, and a thriving stray dog scene.
It has also has a police station which must be doing a pretty good job, because there is no crime. Oh, and one more thing. Garzón is home to one of the best and most exclusive lodgings in Uruguay.
Once again Matt Chesterton has returned to HotelChatter. All week long he will be schooling us on the hot hotel scene in Punta del Este, Uruguay. Any tips, suggestion or questions? Send 'em our way and we'll have Matt answer them for ya. For now, sit back and enjoy.
With our customary zeal for persnickety research, we've unearthed a draft (never published) of a tourist brochure for José Ignacio, the fishing village turned chi-chi resort located 25 km or so east of Punta del Este city. Here's an excerpt:
José Ignacio is the perfect spot to hunker down in during a nuclear holocaust. It's remote enough to ensure no belligerent would waste a missile leveling it but easily reachable from Buenos Aires, Montevideo, and other international hubs.
You'll have access to several well-stocked supermarkets in JI, as well as the world's second largest ocean, so you'll be able to feast on cod and canned sweet corn whenever you fancy! The famous faro (lighthouse) offers panoramic views of the coastline, enabling you and your fellow citizens to keep tabs on the movements of those inevitable gangs of radioactive mutants. And here's the best part. Jose Ignacio is home to an ever-swelling community of writers, artists, new-media tycoons, fashion designers, and beach bums - all the components needed to reboot western civilization from scratch!
Sign up today! Our H-Bomb holiday package starts at 50 million euros for 40 years bed and breakfast -- tax free!
The threat of a thermonuclear freak-out has of course receded since this brochure was penned; the attractions of José Ignacio, on the other hand, have never loomed larger: Latin America's 'best-kept secret' has gone viral.
Once again Matt Chesterton has returned to HotelChatter. All week long he will be schooling us on the hot hotel scene in Punta del Este, Uruguay. Any tips, suggestion or questions? Send 'em our way and we'll have Matt answer them for ya. For now, sit back and enjoy.
Bikini Beach: The Taliban's and Susan Sarandon's worst nightmare and every frat boy's soggiest wet dream; less a fleshpot than a fleshcauldron. It's not, however, an elitist scene. Anyone, blonde or brunette, very rich or slightly rich, is encouraged to declare their assets on this sand stage. The only prerequisites are a) enormous fake breasts; b) a wasp waist; c) a bikini. (Interestingly, going topless is a no-no in Punta. No one knows why.)
Once again Matt Chesterton has returned to HotelChatter. All week long he will be schooling us on the hot hotel scene in Punta del Este, Uruguay. Any tips, suggestion or questions? Send 'em our way and we'll have Matt answer them for ya. For now, sit back and enjoy.
A Martian sends a postcard home from Punta del Este:
Even by Earth standards, this is a strange place. Person A will pay person B to put lumps of plastic underneath her skin. This is so person A becomes bigger. At the same time, person A will pay person C to wake them up in the morning and compel them to do an hour's vigorous exercise. This is so person A becomes smaller. Strangest of all is this: the less time a person spends in his hotel room, the more he pays for it. Apparently if you screw someone just a little bit, they will complain; but if you screw someone really hard, they will brag about it. Wish you were here. PS Please wire more money. PPS Preferably the money known as euros; the currency known as dollars is worth shit.
But at least he didn't write: Punta del Este is the Hamptons of South America. We're getting sick of reading this. [Ed. Note: Oops.] There may even come a point when we get sick of writing it. If only travel journalists would go on strike and Leno's writers go back to work. Does the Hamptons have a hand in the sand? Or anything like this? Case dismissed.
Once again Matt Chesterton has returned to HotelChatter. All week long he will be schooling us on the hot hotel scene in Punta del Este, Uruguay. Any tips, suggestion or questions? Send 'em our way and we'll have Matt answer them for ya. For now, sit back and enjoy.
In case you hadn't noticed, a crucial, not to mention fiercely fought contest is currently underway. The outcome is uncertain, the stakes sky-high. Candidates? There are many; and all of them have to strut, fret, smirk, and when all else fails, beg. There are friends to placate, enemies to crush, thousands of hands to shake, and a seemingly infinite number of babies to kiss. (Fatigue will take its toll: somewhere along the line a hand will be kissed and a baby shaken.)
Yup, it's mid January in Punta del Este. And before the month is out the glossies will have anointed this season's most coveted awards -- Top Blonde, Rack of the Year and, most hankered-after of all, This Summer's Firm-Yet-Tactile Buttocks. In these competitions, everyone wants the booby prize.
The faboo Monica Guy, who is becoming a younger, more attractive Andy Rooney in this space, makes another appearance on HotelChatter today. This time, she wants to know why hotels sometimes have such crappy websites. Enjoy.
Our legendary Buenos Aires correspondent Matt Chesterton once wrote a slamming piece on the Onze Trendy Hotel in Buenos Aires, namely for the poor grammar on the homepage and the verbose new-agey description. That got Matt into a spot of trouble over in BA (he may or may not be in the witness protection program now), but we think of it every time we check out a hotel's god-awful website.
Why do hoteliers spend millions of dollars on their hotels, thousands on their chefs, hundreds on their potted plant decorations and pillowcases, at least ten on their staff training, and then display it all to the world with a fluffed website?
Finisterra is actually a fine looking place, even if everything has been ordered from Boutique Fittings Ltd. The main draw is the location, in Las Cañitas, yet another Palermo sub-barrio.
Las Cañitas has thrived lately as a neighborhood for nightclubs, shops, sushi restaurants and bars for the "young and beautiful" so says Ian Mount of the New York Times, who reviewed the hotel for the paper's "Check In, Check Out" column.
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