Visiting San Ignacio – Misiones Province (Part I of IV)

On a short getaway, my partner and I toured the city of San Ignacio in Misiones Province, trying to make the most of its tourism potential.

We traveled by long-distance bus operated by Via Bariloche. We chose the cama (bed) service, as none of the available companies offered a suite service to Misiones. Among the options offered by bus companies are semicama (semi-bed) and cama, with semicama being the most economical option and having frequent departures throughout the day. Via Bariloche also offers a service called cama tutto letto, which costs 100 pesos more than the regular cama service but only has one departure per day. This service features an onboard attendant and a 180° seat recline—20 degrees more than the standard cama service. The description for the cama tutto letto indicates that it also includes curtains to separate the seats for privacy, though the sample photo on Via Bariloche's website does not show any such curtains.

The cama service description states that each seat has its own monitor, but that is not always the case. On our trip, we did not get a bus with individual seat televisions—something promoted on the company's website (http://www.viabariloche.com.ar/tipos-servicio.php)—but rather the traditional two monitors in the center of the aisle. Unfortunately for the passengers seated in the front half, the front monitor didn't work, though ours in the back half worked fine. Otherwise, the bus service ran as scheduled, and the outbound driver was very attentive to the passengers, providing hot and cold food, drinks, breakfast, movies, a blanket, and a pillow.

A bad habit that drivers and attendants have on long-distance bus trips is requesting and forcing passengers to close the window curtains at night. This happens on practically almost every bus company. They always come up with crude excuses like "they pelt the buses with stones" when passing through the Rosario area and other large towns, as if a closed curtain is going to prevent a bus from being stoned—or perhaps, I can't think of another reason, maybe it's for the passengers' peace of mind so that not seeing a rock hit the bus makes them travel better. Honestly, it’s a poor, almost childish argument. It has never happened to me that a bus I was on was pelted with stones; I've seen some cases on television, but for something like that to happen versus being forced to close your window curtain is quite a stretch. If someone paid and wants to watch the road, the shoulder, the stars, the lights, the towns passing by, or the darkness of the night through the window, why should they be deprived of it? Besides, they don't patrol the whole trip; they tell you to keep the curtain closed one by one as they (drivers or attendants) close them themselves, and then they leave, so you just open it back up and travel how you like.

The bus departed from its platform at the Retiro Bus Terminal in Buenos Aires at 6:50 PM and was on time. During the journey, it makes a few stops. It doesn't waste any time at stops—none exceed five minutes, occasionally ten minutes at most—and passengers are not allowed to get off unless they are ending their trip. The route is: Retiro Terminal (Buenos Aires), Pacheco Terminal (Nueva) (Buenos Aires), Escobar "Parador" (Escobar, Buenos Aires). Here in Belén de Escobar, as dusk was falling, the street lights were turning on, and from the bus I took this blurred photograph that barely lets out the Clock and the Virgin. The Clock Tower, located at 25 de Mayo and Independencia streets, was inaugurated on September 16, 1997. It features a four-sided clock with a London "Big Ben" electronic chime, mounted on a marble tower structure. Right in front is a small urban space with a statue of the Virgin under the advocations of the Miraculous Medal. This was just a passing glimpse from the bus; Belén de Escobar has much more to offer tourists.

The bus journey continues: Campana Terminal (Campana, Buenos Aires), Zárate Toll (Zárate, Buenos Aires), Gualeguaychú "El Tagüe" (Gualeguaychú, Entre Ríos), Concepción del Uruguay (Access) (Concepción del Uruguay, Entre Ríos), Colón Junction (Colón, Entre Ríos), Ubajay Gastiazoro Parador (Ubajay, Entre Ríos), Concordia Checkpoint (Concordia, Entre Ríos), Cuatro Bocas (YPF) (Cuatro Bocas, Corrientes), Paso de los Libres (ESSO) (Paso de los Libres, Corrientes), Alvear Terminal (Alvear, Corrientes), Santo Tomé ESSO (Santo Tomé, Corrientes). The bus continues its journey, and after traveling all night, it arrives at the northern area of Corrientes Province. Through this area, the characteristic red earth begins to appear. In the morning, shortly before reaching the town of Gobernador Virasoro, you can see Establecimiento Las Marías from the road, which produces four well-known brands of yerba mate. Virasoro is also the Provincial Capital of the Mate (it even has a monument to the mate).

The bus continues along National Route 14, named José Gervasio Artigas, until it crosses the town of Gobernador Virasoro. Virasoro Terminal (Virasoro, Corrientes). From the bus, on the left side of the road, you first see the Virasoro Bus Terminal—it didn't stop on this trip, evidently because no one was getting on or off—then a small building with the city coat of arms and a mural-style painted front (though not quite a mural), which appears to be an artisan center or workshop venue. Next to it is a smaller cabin, which serves as the city's Tourist Information office and features two or three flags flying in front. Right next to the Tourist Information cabin is a small public square, Plazoleta Mauricio Herman, where the Zebu Monument is located. Virasoro is known as the National Capital of the Zebu and the Provincial Capital of the Forest Industry. It is the National Capital of the Zebu because until a few years ago, this was the dominant breed in local livestock production.

Just a few meters away, a new monument can be seen from the bus. The monument is located in the Mate and Tarefero Square along National Route 14, at what would be the southern entrance to the city, on the corner of San Martín Avenue and Lisandro de la Torre. It is the monument to the tarefero, inaugurated in 2011. It is a tribute and recognition to the yerba mate worker, representing what was historically the main industry of the local and regional area—an industry that made the growth and development of the town possible. The artwork consists of two human figures, with an estimated total height of 5.50 meters including the pedestal. It was created by architect Fernando Calzoni. The monument comprises a pedestal and a sculpture depicting the tarefero as the main actor alongside his wife, also a yerba mate harvester, who helps him hold and tie the ponchada (containing bag), anchoring the weight with a head strap that allows him to tension and balance the heavy load to support it on his back, where the large volume of shoots and branches rests. (http://www.diarioellibertador.com.ar/notix/noticia/13177_la-gestion-de-betty-pintos-concreto-mejoras-en-espacios-publicos.htm)

A few meters further ahead, past a square with children's playground equipment, you can see a shrine with a statue of the Virgin, likely Our Lady of Itatí based on what I could find online. Gobernador Virasoro is a municipality worth exploring—stopping for a day, for instance, if you are doing the Jesuit-Guarani tourist route of Corrientes, which runs from Alvear to Yapeyú and passes through eight cities, including Virasoro.

The bus leaves the city after crossing it and continues northward to enter Misiones Province. Along the roadside, you see well-organized "small forests," one tree right next to the other; they were planted and can be seen in different stages of growth. In the most developed ones, you look between the trunks and see how the upper vegetation blocks sunlight, creating darkness inside. They look like small artificial forests. There is a whole topic to discuss here: on one hand, the national government, through a forestry promotion law, encourages these types of plantations, supported by two or three renowned institutions dependent on the national and provincial governments. Throughout this region of Corrientes and Misiones, there are many sawmills; in fact, a city in Misiones, San Vicente, has been declared the National Capital of Wood. Most of these appear to be pine and eucalyptus plantations. On the other hand, there are minority groups critical of this practice, citing issues such as lack of control, non-compliance with environmental laws, and the negative socio-environmental impact of these plantations.

Finally, the bus leaves Corrientes Province and enters Misiones Province. San José Junction (Misiones), Posadas Terminal (Posadas, Misiones). Here in Posadas, it navigates a winding route until reaching the Terminal, where some passengers get off, concluding their journey. It is here in Posadas that you catch your first glimpse of the river—the great Paraná River. Part of the route runs alongside it, both when entering and leaving Posadas.

Then it passes through Candelaria Agency (Candelaria, Misiones) and Santa Ana Junction (Santa Ana, Misiones) until our journey concludes at San Ignacio Terminal (Misiones). Here we get off; we have arrived in San Ignacio, Misiones Province. The bus only stops for 5 to 10 minutes and then continues its journey to its final destination, Puerto Iguazú.

The image above corresponds to a map of the city of San Ignacio. It is incomplete, but it serves for orientation and marks some of the main points in the municipality, at least in the main downtown area. Heading north, the city of San Ignacio is located on the left side of National Route 14; however, the San Ignacio Bus Terminal is located right across from the city, on the right side of National Route 14. This poses a danger for anyone walking, as they have to cross the highway, especially since there is no pedestrian bridge to facilitate the crossing. The terminal itself is quite small, and the restrooms are a disaster—besides being small, they are broken and very dirty. From there, we set off on foot, crossed the highway, and walked two blocks.

Two blocks from the terminal is the main entrance to the city. It is poorly marked; several directional signs struggle to stay upright as seen in the image, all leaning to one side or the other. One sign indicates the name of the municipality, another is a large, colorful sign welcoming visitors, another gives specific tourist instructions (like camping), and finally one features a capital "I" indicating the proximity of the Tourist Information booth.

It was an extremely hot day, like all the remaining days, which seems to be the norm for summer there—temperatures sometimes reaching nearly 40°C and always above 30°C. It is important to wear a hat, sunscreen on exposed areas (like arms), and sunglasses if possible. We reached the entrance. The Access Arch is quite sober. On one side is a replica representing one of the surviving walls of what was once the temple of the reductions, followed by the "access arch" (which is not an arch at all), marked at the bottom with the well-known permanent hazard warning sign featuring alternating yellow and black stripes inclined at 45 degrees. On the other side is a painted blue Misiones Provincial Police detachment, part of which can be seen in the photograph along with its emblem, and the flagpole on the sidewalk. Right next to it is the Tourist Office.

It is always advisable to visit the Tourist Office to get information about the place, find out what to see and do, pick up brochures, and get any recommendations they might have. In our case, we skipped it out of carelessness; the excitement of arriving made us take off walking toward the center of the municipality, taking photos along the way. However, we had already researched the location online beforehand, learning about what places to visit and all tourist offerings.

The entrance street is Avenida Sarmiento. This avenue is a tree-less boulevard—actually, it does have some trees, but not many, and most are small, at least for the first three or four blocks. That day, one side of the avenue was under repair, so traffic was diverted, though traffic was light. In parts, the avenue was paved with cobblestones, likely made from local rocks. The soil is reddish. We walked balancing along that endless yellow curb. The streets have a slight uphill slope. We walked up six blocks to the intersection with Rivadavia Street. On that corner is the church, which I will talk about later. Only the main streets are marked as such; the rest are not. For a tourist city, failing to signpost all streets is at the very least careless. For some of us, proper signposting is necessary and helpful; in some cities, this is outsourced to private companies who add their "brand" to a small corner of the sign, while in others the municipalities handle it directly. Here, apparently, they are content with marking a few main streets and not all of them.

We were looking for our accommodation, which we had booked in advance. It is called El Descanso, located at 270 Pellegrini Street. The problem was that among the few marked streets was San Martín Street, which is one of the main ones. We were walking along Avenida Sarmiento, which is also marked, but once we turned off it, there were no more directional signs. In an unfamiliar place without signposts, orientation becomes difficult. Reaching the corner of Sarmiento and Rivadavia, we asked a young man riding a bicycle, but he didn't know where it was. Then we asked a woman walking by, asking, "Do you know where the El Descanso hotel is?" Her response was, "Ah, the lodging—it's that way, and then over there." It wouldn't be the first time people made a distinct separation between a "hotel" and a "lodging/hostal." And that's fair, because that's what it was—a lodging.

From Sarmiento and Rivadavia, it's five blocks along Rivadavia to Pellegrini, and then two more blocks to get there. In short, we took a U-turn. We could have accessed it much more easily from the terminal. In fact, when we were on the bus, we saw a large sign pointing to El Descanso right at the intersection of Pellegrini Street and National Route 14. Arriving by car, you can enter directly from there—it's just two blocks from Route 14.

Walking along Rivadavia Street, we also saw about three or four directional signs, like the one in the photograph, showing arrows, distance, and the name of the lodging in large painted letters on wood. Apparently, the lodging itself puts up these signs for tourists, and it helps.

How did we get to the lodging? Naturally, by walking—just seven blocks from where we were. But how did we find out about this lodging, and how did we make our reservation? Before traveling, the idea was to arrive and search directly in San Ignacio, since all the accommodations are relatively close; the furthest ones are no more than ten blocks from the central square. But we considered—a bit late, less than ten days before traveling—the possibility of not finding a place because it was summer, high season, a long weekend, and also carnival celebrations, which would make lodging generally scarce and everything fully booked. So we checked online and found a website that partly facilitates the task. I must say there are several websites of this style; this one has its particularities. The webpage in question is Booking.com (http://www.booking.com/index.es.html). To use it, you have to register for free, which allows you to manage reservations. First, you use the Booking.com search engine, enter the city, travel dates, and length of stay (i.e., return date). The website immediately returns available results, remaining vacancies, and the option to make a reservation. It even displays accommodations in nearby towns indicating the distance in kilometers, along with detailed features for each place and visitor reviews. Visitors who complete their stay have a period to leave a review on the website about the place. Reservation is free; they ask for a credit card number but do not charge anything. When you make a reservation, you must print the confirmation code, which includes the booking details. In our case, among the few remaining offers available for those dates, one of them was El Descanso. Only three offers were left, and the most comprehensive one was the one we chose. So, without thinking twice, we booked it. But it didn't end there. We decided it would be best to call by phone to confirm our reservation. And good thing we did! The lady told us she knew nothing about the reservation because "Booking doesn't notify them of anything." However, she reserved the requested room using the traditional pen-and-paper method just as we had booked via Booking.com.

Confident that we had our reservation, we traveled with peace of mind. This experience serves as a warning for travelers who rely solely on bookings made through Booking.com: after making the reservation, call by phone to make sure it was registered and avoid the nasty surprise of showing up without a room. It has happened, and you can see this in reviews left on Booking.com.

Regarding the El Descanso accommodation, Booking.com defines it as a hostal. In Spain, a hostal is an inexpensive hotel and differs from a hostel because hostals do not have shared dormitory rooms. Indeed, El Descanso has private single rooms with private bathrooms. In our case, what was booked matched what was offered: private bathroom, air conditioning, Wi-Fi, indoor parking space, shared barbecue grill, shared kitchen, 24-hour reception service, and floor maid service.

Like any lodging, it has pros and cons. A great plus is that it is located just a few blocks from the city center, the bus terminal, and the Jesuit-Guarani ruins, in a quiet area. You can get around on foot without major problems.

The attention—or rather, the human warmth of the owner—is truly noteworthy. She attends to everything and is available all the time. She lives right there in a house at the front and spends most of her time in the courtyard or moving around doing chores, so she is always available, kind, and cordial. I imagine this is what they mean by "24-hour reception service," because nobody should expect to find an office with an employee waiting behind a desk. The service is good.

You have to keep in mind that they clean constantly and change towels daily—I assume this is what they mean by "floor maid service." The lodging has three or four employees who take care of all this; you can also ask them questions if needed, or if the owner isn't around at the moment. They are also kind and respectful.

The rooms are small, but you aren't going there to live; you just need a temporary place for when you aren't out doing other activities—somewhere to spend the night or rest comfortably. Despite its small dimensions, it is more than sufficient. The room has a double bed (though bed configurations varied), a table, two chairs, a small wardrobe with shelves and clothes hangers, two nightstands, a ledge above the bed headboard to place items, two individual reading lights, an overhead light, windows, curtains, a ceiling fan, and air conditioning. It does not have a television or radio. But in our case, we didn't need or want one, since we usually bring one or two books to read and a small portable radio that worked very well. However, the owner repeatedly clarified to us, without us even asking, that the room did not have a television—we assume this is due to complaints or claims from other tourists.

Regarding the "shared barbecue grill" (called barbecue space on Booking.com) and "shared kitchen," there was a small area dedicated to that, along with a sink and a two-meter table with benches on either side. Guests who wanted to use them just had to do so. We didn't use them, but they were certainly there. Sometimes you could see tourists sitting drinking mate or chatting with the owner, who also sat there.

Each room had a parking space available right in front if needed.

The bathroom was private, with each room having its own. It was quite small: a toilet, a sink, a mirror, and a shower. Tiled floor and walls. In other words, simple, plain, possessing what was strictly necessary—neither more nor less. It was clean, but neglected aesthetically. The mirror and sink area looked half-done, as if it was built "quickly and reluctantly"—they needed to build a bathroom, they needed to install bathroom fixtures, they did that, and there it stayed. They could improve it a lot. The shower had three temperature settings; it was set in the middle and came out cold, but that wasn't a problem since with temperatures above 30°C, taking a cold shower felt refreshing to beat the heat. The downside was the very low water flow from the showerhead—extremely low, barely enough. You could shower, but it didn't provide the comfort one would hope for.

The price of staying at El Descanso was consistent with what was offered; it wasn't an expensive lodging. During the days we stayed there, it was fully booked, with reservations even for subsequent days. It is recommendable to return. I don't know other references in San Ignacio to compare it with, but this place was acceptable. On Booking.com, reviews from past tourists rate it between 6.5 and 7 out of 10, evaluating parameters such as cleanliness, comfort, location, facilities and services, staff, value for money, and free Wi-Fi.

The last thing to mention regarding El Descanso is breakfast. When we confirmed our reservation, the owner insisted that breakfast cost 15 pesos, even though we never asked about it; she repeated it several times. In fact, considering that an average breakfast in Buenos Aires ranges from 65 to 85 pesos depending on the neighborhood, a 15-peso breakfast was a steal. We understand that perhaps a 15-peso breakfast might seem expensive to tourists from certain interior towns, or another reason for her insistence on emphasizing the price could be past complaints from other tourists, or perhaps it is considered expensive in San Ignacio. The truth is, we decided to have breakfast every day. If you wanted butter and jam, you had to pay 5 pesos more; a complete breakfast cost 20 pesos, and it was truly worth it. There was a well-kept lobby area with tables and chairs especially for breakfast, tables with tablecloths, and large, bright windows—small but pleasant. Breakfast was served in three small metal pots: one for tea, one for coffee, and the third for milk (creamy milk), along with three butter croissants (medialunas). The great thing was that each pot held enough to fill a medium-sized cup three times, which was no small feat. The butter was served on a small plate, cut by eye as a single portion, and the same went for the jam—about two or three large spoonfuls served on a small plate. The nice thing about this was that it felt more homemade, setting it apart from cafes that serve them in tiny plastic containers.

That same day, we went to visit Playa del Sol, also known as Playita del Sol, which is the municipal bathing beach of San Ignacio. It is accessed via a well-consolidated dirt road. It's not far—3 km along this dirt road. We went there by pickup truck; by vehicle, it takes about 15 minutes. On both sides of the road, there is only vegetation. You have to take Avenida Quiroga, which passes right by one of the corners of the Gendarmerie Detachment, and that road goes straight there. Along the way, there are two marked exits: the first leads to the Horacio Quiroga House Museum, and the second is a marked intersection leading to local indigenous communities. When we passed by, I took a photograph showing a wooden building with several windows; as seen in the image, it is the renovation and functional upgrading of the Horacio Quiroga House Museum under the Provincial Museums Renovation and Expansion Program.

Admission to this beach was 35 pesos, but right on that day it was 70 pesos—double the price—because a stage had been set up and some musical groups were going to perform. The music/concert was scheduled to start around 8:00 PM, and we arrived between 3:00 PM and 4:00 PM. Since we were only staying for an hour or two, we spoke with the ticket attendants at the entrance, and they only charged us 35 pesos.

The beach is small. There is a designated swimming area in the river, naturally buoyed off with lifeguards. We sat on the sand for a while, observing the majesty of the Paraná River, surrounded by lush vegetation. There weren't many people—just a few on the beach and a handful in the water. From the shore, you could see what appeared to be very small tadpoles in the water. Higher up, there was an area with tables and chairs, and a camping section for those setting up tents. On the other side of the beach, there was a rocky stretch bordering the river where you could only go to take some photos and return. The beach also had nice, large umbrellas made simply of straw and logs. Across the water, the Paraguayan coast was visible. The river was calm, and the sun beat down strongly. A boat and launch ramp had also been built. Elsewhere, a canoe floated on the water; it looked to be in poor condition—though it floated, it had quite a bit of water inside. The sand was clean.

Something that caught our attention—ever since the bus that brought us entered Posadas and drove along the riverbank—was a sign by the roadside held by a man that read: "Hay caburé" (Caburé available). It caught our attention, but we couldn't figure out what it referred to. Later on, we saw another sign saying the same thing. The word caburé sounded familiar; I associated it with a living creature, and I was convinced it was a bird, but I couldn't connect "caburé-bird-man with sign." Then I thought, could it be a fish? No, it couldn't be. Indeed, the caburé is a bird of prey (also known as an owlet). But here, it wasn't a bird. And we discovered what it actually was here at Playa del Sol beach. It turns out that here in San Ignacio, and possibly across much of Misiones Province, they call caburé a type of chipá (a cheese-based pastry). They wrap this cheese dough around a stick, roast it over an open fire, and when cooked, slide it off the stick and sell it. It turns out to be a cylinder-shaped chipá with a hollow center, sold for 10 pesos. So, to learn and try something new, we bought one each. Mystery of the caburé solved.

After an hour or two, the sky began to cloud over and turn gray, so we headed back.

In the late afternoon, around 7:00 PM, we went out for a walk around the city—specifically the downtown area, since there is a significant part of the city further out that is just streets and houses without any tourist appeal, at least not featured on any internet portals. But the downtown area does have appeal, although references are scarce and mostly focus only on San Ignacio's best-known tourist attractions. Our concern was insecurity, because in big cities, crime is an everyday issue that doesn't distinguish between tourists and locals. Here, insecurity seemed almost nonexistent, so we could walk with complete peace of mind.

We walked to the city's central square, five blocks from the hostel. The square is called Plaza San Martín and features a bust honoring San Martín, as seen in the photograph.

Right across from Plaza San Martín, on the corner of 605 Independencia Street, is the San Ignacio Town Hall (Municipalidad). Those of us who enjoy architectural tourism cannot overlook buildings that are interesting for one reason or another. On its facade, the year 1877 is carved in large numbers. The date 1877 refers to the beginning of the layout and repopulation of the area, which later in 1895 was established as a new department of what is now Misiones Province. The building is painted in a striking, vibrant color: a strong pink, with the base and two front columns painted in a deep maroon. From what I've seen online in older photos from 2008, this same building was painted white with maroon; now they have replaced the white with this bold pink. Without a doubt, it stands out from the rest of the buildings. It certainly grabs your attention.

On the street, you can see temporary fencing and some cameras, along with chairs and tables set up in preparation for Carnival.

The square itself is nice; there are many palm trees, some lights placed in simple single-bulb lanterns with round glass shades, flagpoles, cobblestone paths featuring the reddish stones characteristic of the place, some palm trees, and some flower beds. However, a certain sense of neglect is noticeable. The photograph—poorly taken and accidentally tilted—sought to capture that: what can be seen is that it lacks a plaque, its identity is unknown, and it is deteriorated, with missing bricks and vegetation growing through the cracks. In two other busts present there, the situation is similar; they are neglected, lacking paint on their bases, which show the wear and tear of time. The curbs of the paths and flower beds, which apparently used to be white, now look worn out or dirty. For the rest, the square is quiet, and various birds can be observed coming down to the ground in search of food. The absence of benches to sit on for a while is also quite noticeable.

Continuing along San Martín Street, we cross Belgrano Street, and the next one is Sarmiento Avenue. This sector of the city is where a large portion of commercial establishments of all kinds is concentrated. There are a bank, a pharmacy, clothing stores, a toy store, an appliance store, kiosks, supermarkets, etc. This area is well-signed, including both the streets and the tourist points of interest. In the middle of the street intersection, there is a small white water fountain with plants and lanterns around it. Here we are already in the area of the boulevard that exists along Sarmiento Avenue. So, we head out to walk along this boulevard.

The boulevard is no more than 3 blocks long. Actually, it is more blocks—almost the entirety of Sarmiento Avenue, meaning 8 blocks in total—but the ones that are enabled, so to speak, the ones prepared and conditioned to be toured, are only 3. On the city maps, in all the ones I saw, they usually mark it in green. And why differentiate this part from the rest? Precisely because it has an internal path for walking—a small, narrow path built with stones and brick borders. Around it, the grass is well-trimmed, and both small and large trees are planted. There are also some benches and a few monuments. One of them is the one in the photograph: a monument to the Argentine Flag, or so it seems, lacking paint as can be seen, and without any plaque or specification.

The last monument seen as you head toward one of the ends, near the intersection with Quiroga Avenue: the Monument to the Mother. On the plaque, you can read its engraving, which says: “Mother!... Blessed be. Homage from the people of San Ignacio. October 11, 1983.” Neglected, without the proper paint, showing the natural wear of time since it was not restored. A few steps further back, the boulevard ends. Incredibly, what follows is a sports field; it could be a variation of soccer, given that it had no marked lines and the two goalposts were small in size.

We retrace our steps to reach the city’s church. On our way back, we pass a tall flagpole. It seems to indicate the center of the boulevard. There was a group of young people chatting around it. The flagpole has a circular base with three steps and used to have a plaque, but I don't remember what it said. Around it are benches and plenty of greenery. We took a few photographs and continued walking.

We arrive at the church. It is the San Ignacio de Loyola Parish. A plaque on one side of it indicates this. On the other side is a statue with the image of the saint. It features a central tower, possibly the bell tower. It is painted a light pink background with borders outlined in dark pink. Could the use of these colors mean something? Perhaps nothing, but searching the internet, if you look up images of San Ignacio de Loyola churches, quite a few appear with this color combination. Maybe it's just a coincidence.

The previous one is a photo of the interior of the temple.

This day's tour concluded, and we returned to our lodging walking along Rivadavia Street. From one of the corners of San Martín Square—the intersection of Hipólito Yrigoyen and Rivadavia Streets, downtown streets with the characteristic cobblestone paving—a water tower or water storage tank shaped like a mushroom, or an inverted cone, could be seen rising among the trees behind the houses. Modernist in appearance, located practically in the center of the city less than a block away from the main square.