—Mars Bonfire, Born to be Wild

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What Tourists Do:

Here we have a tourist on a rented scooter. He's waiting for someone in the souvenir shop behind him.

The bike with the word "racing" and a checkered flag pattern and the matching metallic blue helmet promise a hip, snazzy ride. But it all falls apart with the Thrifty car rental agency logo on the back.

This rider was never going to pull off the look. He probably had no desire to anyway. Looks like a claims adjuster. And helmet or no, if he takes a spill on that thing in those shorts and sandals, he's going to leave a lot of skin on the road.

Rented scooters are one way to get around Colonia del Sacramento. Golf carts, motorcycles, rental cars, mo-peds, quadrimotos, bicycles; they're all available from Thrifty. Here some tourists, the largest clump of them I saw during our visit, are listening to a pitch by a Thrifty agent.

The odd thing is, the interesting part of town runs only eight by eight blocks. And the ferry schedule ensures you're going to spend at least seven hours here. So it baffles me why any healthy person would want transportation other than her own two feet.

Below we see a substantial couple on a motorbike. From the sound of the poor thing, the engine displaces only 50cc. The riders look as if they're concerned about the vehicle making it up the street. They seem to be offering it encouragement.

Thrifty doesn't rent the really cool vehicles. These women are riding around in a dune-buggy-like contraption powered by a Volkswagen engine. You can bet that it can get up and walk away from anything.

Obviously locally made, their vehicle gives a nod to being highway-legal, evidenced by the pair of rear side rear view mirrors and turn signal indicator lights jerry rigged to the tubular frame. Judging from the tire wear, this thing is a popular ride.

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What Locals Do:

I've never seen so many functioning antique cars concentrated in one place. I'm not talking about Concours d'Elegances. I'm referring to ancient cars still in everyday service.

The '28-'31 era Model A Ford has been gussied up with un-Henry-Ford-like green paint and yellow wheels, but its owner tools around town in it.

I guess a Model A isn't all that big a deal. You still see a few around. But that red car parked behind it is a rarity: a Rambler American convertible. It's the cool version of the '60s most uncool car. Most Ramblers were maroon and the cheapskates that bought them usually didn't even spring for a radio. You never asked your dad for the keys to the Rambler. But this car... What a dilemma!

Resting in the shade of a wisteria, another Model A awaits its next assignment. What is it with green in this town?

This sad thing is a Mercedes. When I was a young professional, I couldn't afford it. Today, anybody could.

I saw this '30s vintage Vauxhall out running errands several times during the day. It runs quietly and doesn't smoke. Although its owner does.

Nothing says "Berkeley French Literature Professor" like a Citroen 2CV. This one nds. wrk.

The real find was this no kidding, take-no-prisoners Land Rover. This is not the luxury vehicle with the unnecessary headlight brush guards and the leather seats. You know, the one that gets no closer to going off road than a friend's gravel driveway.

This is a real safari-going truck that'll get you up close to observe the dik-diks.

At the far left, the owner is peering at me as I photograph the Land Rover. He told me maybe three people photograph it every week. He says he's proud of it—he should be—but that he will probably have to sell it. He needs the cash. (Note the little money pit sitting on the step.) If I'd had any reasonable way to get it to Mexico, I'd have bought it.

You've all seen this last vehicle driven by Nazis in WWII movies. It's also a Mercedes, no? Well, it's not anymore. Now it's a planter, the only non-running vehicle I saw. But still in service.

Check out the doors that open from the front and swing to the rear. What pathetic excuse for an engineer came up with that design? And why did the manufacturer let him? Can you imagine accidentally opening the door while riding along at 50 mph?

When you travel, you never know what you're going to see. I came here to look at colonial houses and ruins and Portuguese cobblestone streets built from ships' ballast. I found an artifact of Uruguay's isolation and lack of cash for imports. And a good warm bout of nostalgia.