Two seas for a single point of sand: that's the founding paradox of Punta del Este. On one side, Playa Mansa, where the Río de la Plata ends in gentle water; on the other, Playa Brava, where the Atlantic rolls in its swell. Between the two, a peninsula of white buildings and maritime pines serves as the beach capital of Uruguay and half of Argentina. Ships anchor offshore and tenders drop their passengers in the heart of the peninsula, a few blocks from the first terraces.

Fingers in the sand

The most photographed spot in the country emerges from Playa Brava: five giant concrete fingers, half buried, the work of Chilean sculptor Mario Irarrázabal. La Mano, which locals also call "the drowning man," dates from an international sculptors' gathering held in the early 1980s; it's a pleasant walk of about 25 minutes from the landing, along the docks and then the waterfront. Early in the morning, before the tour buses arrive, you share the sculpture with only joggers and a few gulls, in the slanting light that stretches the fingers' shadows across the sand.

Around the peninsula

The point can be explored on foot in a pleasant loop: the 19th-century lighthouse rising above the low rooftops, the Church of Nuestra Señora de la Candelaria, the shopping streets of Avenida Gorlero, then back along the docks where yachts crowd side by side. At the craft market, mate gourds, leather goods and woollens are a reminder that Uruguay remains ranching country, even in a beach resort. Artisanal ice cream shops and the avenue's confiterías serve the local alfajor with a strong coffee, a sweet break typical of the Río de la Plata. The walk reveals a town more peaceful than expected outside the big summer weekends.

The harbour's sea lions

A free and foolproof attraction: around the marina docks, lumbering sea lions watch for returning fishing boats, sometimes hauling themselves onto the docks to general indifference. The fishers toss them scraps from cleaning their catch, under the gaze of onlookers and gulls. This daily scene beats any organized show.

Gorriti, the island across the water

A fifteen-minute crossing away, Gorriti Island lines up its pale-sand coves beneath a forest of pines and eucalyptus, with a few remains of Spanish gun batteries as a bonus. Shuttle boats leave from the marina and turn the afternoon into an island break, towel on the sand and calm water on the sheltered side. Shaded trails crossing the islet lead from one cove to another in a few minutes of easy walking. It's the ideal option on a fine austral summer day.

Casapueblo, the white wave

About fifteen kilometres to the west, the immaculate silhouette of Casapueblo flows down a cliff like a stream of whitewash. Uruguayan artist Carlos Páez Vilaró shaped this house-studio without plans or straight lines over several decades; today you can tour a museum devoted to his work, among white terraces suspended above the water. A taxi covers the distance in about twenty minutes, and the sunset there is celebrated every evening like a ceremony.

Time to head back

As the tender pulls away, the peninsula lines up its white towers between its two beaches, a concrete hand on one side, sea lions on the other. Punta del Este cultivates a way of life made of long beaches, grilled fish and Atlantic light. Watching the coast fade from the aft deck, you understand why so many travellers from the Río de la Plata return every summer, as one goes back to a family home.