After a little more than an hour's drive the aspect of the country to the front changes abruptly, and presently the coach enters the cool shade of a great forest of eucalyptus and pine. It is difficult to conceive these stretches of giant trees as not having covered the soil for generations. Yet less than twenty years ago the face of this particular district was as bare as any of that of the surrounding country, since it is only eighteen years ago that Señor Piria planted the first sapling that went to form this present forest land.
Roads of a better order now prick their way the length of the woodland aisles, and after a while a lonely little store and post-office stand out from amidst the trees. A little beyond evidences of civilisation appear quite unexpectedly. A pair of fine wrought-iron gates are to the front. Once through these an avenue, adorned by statues at intervals of a few yards, leads to a square turreted building that is known as the castillo, or castle, of Señor Piria himself. The dwelling is a pleasant one, with its broad stone terraces that overlook pretty grounds, covered with semi-tropical trees, shrubs, and flowers, laid out after the Italian style.
The view obtained from the upper terrace here is decidedly beautiful. Beyond the gardens spread broad orchards and vineyards, and at the back of these again on one side is a belt of forest that covers the ground for seven miles and more until the edge of the sea itself is reached—a sparkling line of blue that is visible in the distance from here. On the opposite side rises a rugged hill of immense queer-shaped boulders, from the interstices of which grows a dense tangle of scrub.
By far the most conspicuous object, however, in the whole panorama is the aptly named Pan de Azucar, or Sugar Loaf Mountain, that rises to a height of some two thousand feet on the west of the castle. The hill is a bare mass of serrated rock, and represents one of the highest points in the Republic. It is the dominating feature in a landscape that affords a wonderful combination of mountain, valley, forest, and sea.
The architecture of the castillo itself is somewhat original. The ground floor is almost entirely occupied by the guests' bedrooms, apartments with great vaulted ceilings that open promiscuously the one into the other. The living apartments are on the first floor, and the walls of the central hall are hung with many old Italian paintings. Above this again is the square tower that stands as the summit of the house. I mention the architecture more particularly, since it is entirely unusual, the ordinary country houses of Uruguay being almost without exception constructed on a single floor.
The seven miles of eucalyptus forest that intervene between the castillo and the sea afford a delightful drive to the shore of Piriapolis Bay. This portion of the coast consists of a shelving sandy shore eminently suited for the purposes of bathing, and is backed by an imposing vista of forest and mountain. The hill immediately behind the bay, by the way, is locally known as the Sierra de los Ingleses, having been employed, it is said, for the purposes of smuggling in the old days by English sailors.
It is at this point that the future town and pleasure resort of Piriapolis is to be situated. Some considerable start in this direction has already been made, as will be evident when it is explained that a great hotel has already been constructed, and is now complete, and ready for the day when it shall be officially opened. The place is of quite a palatial order, and is provided with no less than 120 bedrooms, as well as with a magnificent dining-room and very spacious apartments and lounges. A broad terrace runs the entire length of the building on the seaward side, and the tide, when at its highest, reaches to within twenty yards of the hotel itself. A very useful addition to the place is a large vegetable and fruit garden that holds everything of the kind that is needed. The plants and trees flourish amazingly well here, although, curiously enough, their roots are planted in no more satisfying a soil than sand.
The enterprise, however, has not contented itself with the erection of the hotel. In the neighbourhood of this building is a small casino, destined to be employed for the purpose of games of chance, and almost the entire margin of the bay is dotted by little, square, four-roomed châlets. At some distance from the hotel a stone mole is in the course of construction, and it is here, of course, that the pleasure steamers will land their passengers when the place is once in the full swing of its active life.