Why Uruguay

Uruguay is a paradox. South America’s second-smallest country--about the size of Missouri--looks like Europe and feels like Europe, but with Third-World prices.
Wedged between Brazil and Argentina, Uruguay has the lowest poverty level in Latin America, the highest life expectancy, and (as of October 2004) the second lowest level of corruption.
This diverse country represents the best of all worlds. The capital city of Montevideo is like an old-world European city with its kept buildings, fine restaurants, and international ambiance. Then contrast that with Punta del Este, a world-class beach resort that has been the playground of rich Europeans for years.
In between you’ll find colonial cities, miles of rolling pampas where gauchos still manage their herds, and long stretches of near-empty beaches. The roads are good, too.
The 210-mile stretch of coastline between the Brazilian border and the Uruguayan capital of Montevideo is among the finest in South America, with endless white-sand beaches, lonely stretches of highway where the woods go right to the water, wildlife preserves, and dazzling resorts. I
t’s a good place to live and invest and--thanks to the spillover of the Argentina financial crisis--a place where your dollar still goes a long way. Right now, you could buy a large beachfront home here for just $140,000.
This small South American country is sure to enchant you with its cordiality, sociability, and courtesy. The atmosphere is warm, relaxed, and hospitable…you’re sure to feel at ease from the moment you arrive. The population of Uruguay is of European origin--mostly Spanish and Italian--but other nationalities such as French, Brazilian, Argentinean, Armenian, Croatian, Polish, Serbian, Romanian, Lebanese, and German have influenced the country by contributing a wide range of customs and traditions…resulting in a warm, culturally diverse mix.
Because the country provided immigrants with a safe place to settle, as well as an environment where differences are respected and integrated, Uruguay offers a rich cultural experience unlike any other.
Situated in the temperate zone of the tropic of Capricorn, Uruguay boasts warm summers and crisp winters, with no extreme temperatures. Because of its mild climate, the country can be enjoyed throughout the year.
The economy is based on agriculture, cattle farming, and mining, as well as the production of hydroelectric energy and the development of tourism.
Uruguay is recognized as a strategic gateway for international companies conducting business in the Latin American region.
International companies appreciate the value of its political and social stability. For these reasons, the geopolitical importance of Uruguay has become a significant factor for companies selecting Uruguay as the regional center for their business operations. Due to its economic, social, and political stability, as well as its democratic tradition, high level of safety, and outstanding natural beauty, Uruguay is a truly unique country in South America.
Many foreigners are starting to take advantage of the ease of investment, superior quality of life, perfect weather, and numerous investment opportunities in real estate, farming, and the tourism industry. Infrastructure has been modernized and improved (ports, airports, telecommunications, road networks, etc.), making Uruguay, with its strategic location between Argentina and Brazil, the perfect base for exploring the rest of South America.

http://www.internationalliving.com/Countries/Uruguay/Why

Enjoying Punta del Este

Perched on a bar stool and sipping a $7 Negroni, I surveyed the casino of the Conrad Hotel in Punta del Este with keen but detached interest. The slot machines blinked and burbled like exotic birds, and at the blackjack and poker tables, neatly dressed men and women glanced at their cards with stony faces. A poster near the V.I.P. rooms advertised an Enrique Iglesias concert.
I could hear the money running merrily down the drain — counterclockwise, of course: this was the Southern Hemisphere.
To say that casinos make the Frugal Traveler antsy is a vast understatement. My weekend budget of just $500 was enough for a mere five rounds of V.I.P. baccarat. In Punta del Este, on the Atlantic in the southeast corner of Uruguay, however, the casino serves another purpose: sitting at the base of the town's milelong peninsula, it's the perfect rendezvous point. The choice is as much symbolic as practical, for Punta del Este is a place devoted to celebrating money.
Punta is known as the Hamptons of South America— a haven for elites from Argentina, Brazil, Chile and beyond. It's where they come to chill with the supermodels Naomi Campbell and Gisele Bündchen at Buddha Bar, and to stock up on luxury labels like Gucci and Valentino.
Punta has other charms. Its beaches form a blond, boulder-flecked halo around the city, and in the golden light of early November, the buildings — the glinting Miami -esque towers, the immaculate old stucco hotels, the modernist glass summer homes — appear almost computer-generated in their breathtaking flawlessness. Farther inland, the rolling hills are carpeted with neat stands of pine and green-golden pastures that are home to cattle as tasty as Argentina's (tastier, Uruguayans claim).
And despite its jet-set reputation, Punta has surprisingly nice people, like the women who, as I passed them on the sidewalks, would look at me and smile for no discernible reason, and Dani, an easygoing currency trader whom I met through a former co-worker, and whose shiny bald head and thick eyebrows I finally spied on the crowded casino floor.
Dani took a perch, ordered a whiskey and expressed surprise when I told him where I was staying: La Posta del Cangrejo, a whitewashed hotel on the ocean in La Barra, a hip, tiny suburb about 10 minutes' drive from downtown Punta. La Posta has a posh reputation — former President George Bush once checked in — and is not the kind of lodging the Frugal Traveler can normally afford. But I'd found an off-season special, $80 a night for what I joked was Mr. Bush's presidential suite: a spacious garden room that smelled like an old man.
To experience Punta the truly frugal way — the way that Dani and his children-of-the-elite friends have for decades — he took me down to the peninsula's port, where the megayachts dock, to a restaurant with plastic tables that specializes in chivitos.
To call a chivito a cheese steak may be accurate, but it misses the point. Chivitos may be grilled slices of juicy beef tenderloin on a roll, but really they're delivery devices for toppings: mozzarella, bacon, egg, lettuce, tomatoes, mushrooms, onions, hot peppers, sweet peppers, olives, pickles and several different blends of mayonnaise.
Fresh ingredients are key, but just as important are the architectural talents of its chef. And at the Chivitería Marcos, we found an exceptional chef-engineer, who assembled our chivitos with effortless skill. Not a drop of juice dripped down my arm as I gorged myself with a delight enhanced by frugality — with French fries and a large Budweiser, we spent 330 pesos, which was about $13.60 at the exchange rate then, 24.2 pesos to the dollar. It was far from fancy, but saving money that night meant I could splurge the next.
It was close to midnight — early by Uruguayan standards — and Dani and I drove around the peninsula in search of life. The big clubs had not yet opened for the season, so there would be no $20 cocktails at Tequila, no invitations to the after-party at Martin Amis's house. We happened on Punta 33, a new bar-restaurant in a grand yellow building with a palm-fronted garden and jovial bouncers, on an otherwise lifeless and almost industrial block in the heart of the peninsula.
In contrast to the bright exterior, the inside was demure and low key, with a modest dance floor and a dozen wooden tables where several parties were finishing dinner. It seemed like a cozy place, but by the time we ordered a second round of $6 whiskeys, some 200 young Brazilians in short skirts and expensive jeans had transformed Punta 33 into a buzzing nightclub.
As a band played oddly familiar South American rock songs, the dance floor — indeed, every square inch in the club — was packed. By 3 a.m., Punta 33 was a mass of heaving, gyrating bodies, so many and so dense that we couldn't find a waiter to pay the bill.
APPARENTLY, I'd seen nothing yet. Dani informed me that I was in Punta at exactly the wrong time. The party scene doesn't kick into high gear until Christmas, he said, when the boldface names, Brazilian models and international scenesters arrive for a week or three of get-togethers, lavish dinners and midnight cruises.
But despite all that glamour, Dani added, Punta was also a place for families to relax and far-flung friends to reunite — more Wellfleet than Southampton.
In fine Punta tradition, I slept in Saturday, rousing myself just in time to reach La Barra's most popular bakery, Medialunas Calentitas ,before it closed for lunch. I ordered a quartet of their famous sticky-sweet croissants and a cortado (espresso with a little milk) for 95 pesos, and as I munched them outside at the surfer-chic picnic tables, latecomers cautiously approached the bakery, only to be turned away. For a moment, I felt like an insider.
Afterward, I strolled back along Route 10 — La Barra's main drag and essentially the only road in town — pausing at several cool boutiques. It was a refreshing departure from the Louis Vuitton and Valentino shops off Avenida Gorlero in downtown Punta.
At the Antique Shop, I found stacks of Atlántida, a fashion magazine from the 1940s, along with a rare G.E. radio set from 1931. And at Por Los Siglos, a jewelry store, I found a beautiful handmade silver bracelet embedded with tree bark. I bought it for my wife, Jean, and discovered a Punta secret — pay cash, get a discount. The bracelet was listed at 1,100 pesos, but the proprietress happily accepted 1,050 pesos rather than break out the credit-card machine.
That afternoon, I did very little, but what else are you supposed to do in a beach town? I read my Émile Zola novel, then used it as a pillow while watching surfers battling the unrelenting waves on the break just outside La Posta. I wandered to a church, where men in double-breasted suits and their immaculately coiffed wives were pouring forth from a wedding. When I got hungry, instead of going to the upscale restaurants in town, I ate a tasty four-cheese pizza (110 pesos) on the picnic tables at nearby Pico Alto, where a crowd of surfing teenagers had gathered.
Finally, I drove to the Museo del Mar (85 pesos entry), a warehouse-sized museum chock-full of marine ephemera: 30-foot whale skeletons, fetal dolphins in formaldehyde, giant turtle shells and a stuffed manta ray whose placard identified it as the species that killed the “Crocodile Hunter” Steve Irwin. This was exactly the kind of place I love — quirky, chaotic, obsessively detailed and, without question, unique. I could have spent all day examining the collection and improving my Spanish (ah, cangrejo means crab!).
But the sun was beginning to set. So I drove to the peninsula's tip for a good look. There were a dozen cars already there, and we watched the sun cast rainbows onto clouds as it sank into the sea. As soon as darkness fell, a parking attendant shooed everyone away. I drove back along the coast, dark waves crashing on my right, a bright pastel moon hovering on the horizon.
FOR dinner late that evening (no one eats before 10), I went to Lo de Charlie , one of Punta's more expensive restaurants — I'd barely spent half my budget so far. An intimate bistro with pale violet walls and an open kitchen, Lo de Charlie hummed warmly with a dozen diners.
I sat down to eat — a lot: a pile of chipirones, or baby squid, sautéed with onions; an orgy of side dishes like pommes lyonnaises; and — to avenge Steve Irwin — pan-seared stingray with an aromatic saffron sauce. All that, plus a bottle of fruity Uruguayan viognier and cheese-flavored ice cream, came to 1,030 pesos, and since I was paying cash, I got 10 percent off. I slept well that night. But I awoke Sunday morning feeling oddly empty. I had nothing to do that day but watch surfers and pretend to read Zola's “Germinal.” But check-out time was nearing, so I packed my belongings, fired up the rented Chevy, and drove off to get one last glimpse of Punta del Este.
To the northeast, I found a beachfront complex of modernist brick apartments topped with gargantuan red pipes; to the west, a vertically oblong vacation home of unpainted wood, with enormous windows and an outbuilding in gleaming crimson. And in the countryside, a farmhouse with a rotting 60-foot yacht in its front yard.
I took pictures until barking dogs chased me away, then drove out of Punta with more than $200 still in my pocket. Wait a minute, I thought, were the baccarat tables still open?

http://travel.nytimes.com/2007/01/07/travel/07frugal.html

One of Latin America´s most fortunate

Uruguay’s economy has bounced back from the 2002 recession, and it is still a relatively prosperous country, with GDP per capita at US$6,477 (2007). It does not share its neighbors’ problems of unemployment, inequality, poverty and slums.

With a population of 3.5 million, it is known for its progress in education, its advanced welfare system and its liberal laws on social issues such as divorce. It has an excellent climate, good communications, fine ports, high agricultural and cattle productivity, and an experienced service industry.

Uruguay was among the first Latin America countries to establish a welfare state system and has maintained this, together with one of the region’s lowest poverty rates, through relatively high taxes on industry. Good access to health care contributes to a high average life expectancy.
However, there is a downside. Large swathes of Uruguay’s economy are in the hands of the state, including telecoms, most of the electricity industry, oil imports and several banks. Though economic performance is reasonable, the country could do much better, and it suffers from relatively high emigration.

Uruguay’s colonial towns, sandy beaches and year-round mild climate have created an increasingly important tourist industry. However, Uruguay's dependence on livestock and related exports make it vulnerable to fluctuations in international commodity prices. Recessions in Brazil and Argentina - its main export markets and source of tourists - propelled Uruguay into economic crisis in 2002.
Disbursements from the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and a restructuring of foreign debt have helped to foster a fragile recovery.

In November 2004 Tabaré Vázquez from the leftist Broad Front coalition won the presidential elections. Vázquez immediately approved at US$100 million emergency plan to help the poor, and opened investigations into the disappearances under military rule in the 1970s and 1980s. He also restored ties with Cuba.

This is a significant shift from the centrist presidency of Jorge Battle (1999-2004), who had pushed some significant reforms.

Yet Vázquez’s finance secretary Danilo Astori is a moderate, who has pursued tight fiscal policies, and also spearheaded the reform of the taxation system, including the introduction of a 12% tax on rental income. It seems likely that Astori will be the Broad Front’s candidate in the 2009 presidential election.

Uruguay is part of Mercosur (Mercado Común del Sur), the commercial and political agreement with Argentina, Brazil, and Paraguay, which provides a potential market of 200 million people. But it may be more of a handicap than a benefit, as it condemns the country to paying high import duties on imported machinery.

http://www.globalpropertyguide.com/Latin-America/Uruguay

Radical Getaway

You could say Punta del Diablo, a fishing village on Uruguay's rugged Atlantic coast, has always been a popular getaway.

First came the leftists and bearded revolutionaries, fleeing South America's iron-fisted regimes in the turbulent '70s. The dictators themselves followed, briefly turning the place into a kind of country retreat for the rich and reviled. These days Diablo continues to attract refugees, albeit of a different stripe: world travelers seeking anonymity, untouched sands and an escape from the standard beach holiday.

Just an hour's drive from the high-rises of swanky Punta del Este of the Uruguayan Riviera, Diablo feels fabulously remote and undiscovered. A kaleidoscope of brightly colored houses, shops and restaurants, the village sits on a gentle rise overlooking the slate-blue waters of the Atlantic. Sandy streets and a fleet of weathered fishing boats bobbing in the bay round out the vista.

The only thing missing is the crowds. True to its underground roots, the village has managed to remain below the radar, even while catering to a growing and sophisticated international clientele.

"It's just so unpretentious here," says Brian Meissner, American expat and owner of El Diablo Tranquilo, a popular beachfront bar and restaurant that also offers accommodations. "Other places, it's all about being seen. . . . People come here to enjoy a comfortable place without the need to be seen doing it."

From the sunny rooftop terrace of Meissner's restaurant, it's clear that Diablo has been passed over by the tides of development. Strict building codes mean there's not a luxury condo or hotel in sight. Down on the beach, white sand extends in both directions, interrupted only by the village's namesake point -- a rocky finger extending more than 600 feet into the sea.

"The place is beautiful," says Meissner, who fled Wisconsin's chilly winters to try his luck here. "But for me [the appeal] unquestionably begins with the onda, the attitude of the city."

Not surprisingly, news of Diablo's low-key vibe and stunning views has begun to slip out. Lonely Planet ranked Diablo among the top 10 cities in the world to visit in 2008, and during the December-February peak, as many as 20,000 travelers can pass through town each day. An afternoon walk along the village's main drag -- a sandy seaside lane lined with fish markets and laid-back restaurants -- turns up a decidedly international mix of people and languages.

"There aren't many Americans yet, but lots of Europeans," says Andrés Carrau, an energetic Uruguayan who came to Diablo eight years ago, fleeing a hectic life as a professional caterer in Montevideo, the capital.

These days, Carrau, who has the golden tan of a born-again beach bum, spends most of his time custom-building the brightly colored cabañas that line Diablo's narrow streets. These cabins, the accommodation of choice for most visitors, are deceptively rustic on the outside, with thatched roofs and bamboo trim. A peek inside, however, quiets any "Gilligan's Island" anxieties. Even the simplest cabañas -- which rent for around $60 a night -- have full kitchens, hardwood floors and, of course, a sun deck for taking in ocean views. On the top end, luxury cabañas come outfitted with Jacuzzis, flat-screen TVs and outdoor fireplaces for grilling up the catch of the day.

"Last year, I sold two cabañas to clients from Iceland, [and] this one belongs to an artist from Brooklyn," Carrau says, motioning to a mandarin-colored, two-story cabaña.

At Panes y Peces, an open-air restaurant tucked a few blocks back from the ocean, Carrau's observation about the mix of visitors proves right on the mark. As the sun sets, the diminutive patio fills up with a mix of sun-scorched Europeans, Brazilians and Uruguayans. Weaving between the tables, the restaurant's German owner -- a stout, fair-haired woman who splits her time between Diablo and the Mediterranean island of Ibiza -- takes orders. In Spanish sprinkled with Deutsch, she rattles off the restaurant's few dishes: a half-dozen plates offering a French provincial take on locally caught fish and Uruguay's fantastic free-range beef.

"When I moved to Diablo in 2000, I had the first fax in town," Carrau says, raising his voice to be heard above an impromptu samba jam that has broken out across the patio. "But [now] we've got everything travelers look for."

One piece of Diablo that has remained stubbornly behind the times is its fishing trade. Out on the main beach, sunbathers jockey for position with wooden fishing boats, laboriously hauled onto the sand to unload the day's catch. Diablo's anglers, descendants of immigrants from Spain's stormy Galician coast, still make their living by hand using weighted nets and rods.

Not long ago, however, many of these same fishermen put their boats to different uses. In the late '60s, Uruguay's urban guerrillas -- the left-leaning Tupamaros -- wreaked havoc in the capital, robbing banks, raiding gun depots and kidnapping dignitaries to put pressure on the repressive government. When the country's dictatorship ultimately cracked down, many radicals fled here.

"Diablo's fishing history played an important role in smuggling Tupamaros," Meissner explains. "Seems that an old boat called the Pinta Roja was commonly known to sneak people off to Brazil during fishing runs."

Eventually, the government caught on. After setting off from Diablo's sparkling beaches one summer morning more than 30 years ago, the Pinta Roja was never seen again.

More than a few locals insist a navy gunboat sank the vessel.

These days, you're unlikely to see many freedom fighters hanging around Diablo's seaside restaurants and plush cabañas. And Uruguay's liberal government has long since shifted energies from quelling uprisings to figuring out ways to preserve the natural beauty of the coastline.

A well-worn path leads away from the village and into the dunes of Santa Teresa National Park, a beachfront reserve that harbors a diversity of exotic wildlife, including rare cormorants. During the summer months, park visitors can watch whales migrating along the shore.

Trekking through the dunes on an early morning walk and dodging an occasional flock of wild parrots, it's not hard to understand why Diablo still feels like a smuggler's cove. Just five minutes outside town, the trail climbs steeply to a sandy bluff, then falls away, revealing a gracefully curving bay that extends clear to the horizon, uncluttered by a single sign of civilization. From up here, you can almost picture the Pinta Roja, weathered hull slipping through the waves with her clandestine cargo one last time.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/06/06/AR2008060601677.html

Why Uruguay ?

Tata Consultancy Services

In 2002, TCS chose Uruguay as the country to set up its offshore global development center for customers in Spain and Spanish speaking Latin America. Uruguay represents a strong platform for TCS Latin America not only in the development area, but also in the financial, legal and training areas.

Apart from security and good weather conditions in Uruguay, the advantages it offers as an outsourcing centre include a well-educated human resource and a time zone opposite to that of India, enabling a 24x7 service for customers.

The Uruguay regional training center is located in Montevideo. This center was created to equip students and professionals to cope with the demands of the IT and communications industry (TIC). Over 500 professionals have been trained so far and we expect to further train about 3000 employees within the next two years.
TCS Uruguay was awarded the best IT exporter of Uruguay by the Chamber of Commerce and Services of the country in 2007.

http://www.tcs.com/worldwide/s_america/locations/uruguay/Pages/default.aspx

Ence Group

Uruguay is one of the few countries in the world which has based its entire forest policy in the production of planted forests. This productive experience benefits from the suitability of its land and it leverages the positive effects of afforestation on soils degraded as a result of agricultural misuse and erosion.

Plantation forests contribute significantly to the atmospheric cycle of carbon, by reducing the amount of carbon monoxide and helping to reduce the impact of greenhouse gases on world climate.

Within the context of the Uruguayan regulatory framework and the tax benefits adopted to promote this forest sub-sector, ENCE Group, through its affiliate Eufores, decided to participate from the very beginning in the forestry development of Uruguay.

http://www.eufores.com.uy/english/empresa/presentacion.php

Metsä-Botnia

Botnia started up its sixth pulp mill in Fray Bentos, Uruguay in November 2007. The mill is located on the shore of the River Uruguay 4 kilometres east of the town of Fray Bentos.
Its production capacity is 1 million tonnes of bleached short-fibre eucalyptus pulp. The pulp is sent from the mill by river barge to the deep-water port of Nueva Palmira for loading onto oceangoing vessels bound for Europe and Asia.
Uruguay has supported the forest plantations since 1980s, aiming at putting grasslands with low agricultural value into productive use.
Uruguay offers ideal growing conditions for rapid growth eucalyptus trees.
Political, economic and legal conditions: Uruguay is politically a very stable country and its government is favourably disposed to investments. Land ownership is clear and the country's legislation is well-developed. Additionally, Uruguay has good basic social security and high standard of education guaranteeing well-educated professionals and qualified labour force.
The pulp mill's location in Fray Bentos was based on an extensive study of various factors. Fray Bentos is the ideal location for the pulp mill, when taking into account the environment, wood raw material and pulp logistics as well as socio-economic impacts to the region.

http://www.metsabotnia.com/en/default.asp?path=204,1490,1496,1525

Sabre Holdings

Operations in Montevideo provide world-class customer support to our Travel Network and Airline Solutions customer base. The office also includes support functions for Jurni/Nexion, Synxis, Web Services, GetThere and international accounting.
With 550 employees and growing, Montevideo is the company’s second largest location.

http://www.sabre-holdings.com/aboutUs/locations/uruguay.html

AIVA TPA Services

Our Back Office and Sales Support Center operates from Zonamerica, in Montevideo-Uruguay. Zonamerica is a world class site in solutions and technology, hosting the main operations in Latin America for international companies focused on service quality, cost efficient structures and tax advantages. Offices Through our Head Office in Zonamerica, Montevideo-Uruguay, we provide services to world class companies, as well as to our sales support offices in strategic locations, and our financial advisers network in over 20 countries.

http://www.aiva.com/offices.aspx