Last days in South America

2nd to last day in SouthAmerica

I get to reception to check out and there’s a bit of a bun fight happening with some guests that were unhappy with their bill. I lingered for as long as I could wondering if fists were going to fly or not but in the end became impatient and set off to grab a cab to take me to my new abode for the night. My friendly Argent was booked out so I took the opportunity to go somewhere I hadn’t been before and had heard was nice, to the Suburb of Palermo, one of the bigger central barrios. 

The hotel is lovely, again in a residential area but surrounded by shops and restaurants. Of course as soon as I arrived I went exploring. I saw one sign saying "Coffee for breakfast, beer for dinner" but they dont open till 8pm! Go figure?

There are shopping outlets everywhere mainly with very run of the mill stuff and certainly nothing exciting. Heaps of vintage shops everywhere too and a whole complex of outlet stotre. 

It was lunch time when I spied the Henri bar. A small wee pub like place with a waitress who looked just like my twin cousins Wendy and Sheryl. She even posed for me so I could send them a pic. I ordered Spaghetti Bolognese without great expectations. It turned out to be divine, a very runny sauce but so flavoursome with some lovely warming spices coming through.

I had little to do so I walked, no where in particular but just checking out the neighbourhood. The central focus is the Botanical Gardens but looking at it from the outside of the gate it didn’t inspire me to check it out further. 

Like every other day today lots of shops are closed. No it’s not an official holiday but Argentina are playing Croatia in the world cup, so why would anyone work when they can watch their team win and progress to the next round. If its not one thing its another. No wonder the country is in economic turmoil. I decided to join the crowds and went and sat in a cafe waited for someone to serve me but thats ok was only there to watch the game. It was the only cafe I could find with an empty seat and here I was in a vast cafe full of people all advising the ref that he is wrong. Eventually I got served and rather than having to ask for the bill (the usual) the waiter brought it to me with my coke. After the second Croatia goal I decided I didn’t want to be there for the end as no show would I see the Argentines celebrating. The mood was becoming somewhat sombre. So I called waiter over and paid the bill, the correct change, no tip. Sulky wee fellow ripped the money away without so much as a thanks. And that’s why you didn’t get a tip mate! You were slow, didnt wipe down the table and you are rude. Tough. 

Hours after the match finished most every TV channel is still dissecting the loss and lamenting the fact that they have no show of going through to the next round. I’m not sure what they do with all the clothing, wigs, flags etc they have as I guess they won’t be using them again this round. I suppose they can bring them out for the rugby. The South American teams haven’t done well at all, and it is going to be interesting to follow it through to the end. 

I had dinner all sorted. Next door to the hotel was Don Julio and it had a good Parrilla menu and looked nice so I didn’t go too early to make sure it would have been open. Bum. Only seats outside left. So I booked for lunch for tomorrow and went walking (only 17km today). All the places on my list were closed at 8:30. Maybe in mourning. So I ended up over the road from the hotel having a provoleta and fries at la Popular del Soho. I wish I could send the smell it was divine. But it did smell and look much better than it tasted. 

I looked out onto Don Julio as I was eating. The pavement was chocka with people waiting for a seat at 9:30. It’s pumping. 

I can’t wait for lunch tomorrow . I have to fill my day in until I leave at midnight and a meal at a renown restaurant sounds like a good filler for a few hours. 

And the last day of my trip. 

The Shower. Oh! oh! oh! Even beats my one at home and with a bath sheet and thicker than a piece of tissue. For some odd reason every hotel I have bern in has had almost threadbare towels. Must be a thing. 

For me it must be time to go home. My arthritis and psoriasis have both set in and almost from day 1 had not bothered me one bit. Maybe my body is telling me that I need to go away to cure my immune system. 

Although I wasn’t hungry when I woke I did grab a croissant for breakfast. By the time I’d gone back to my room and finished packing I was getting hungry and hanging out for Don Julio to open at 12. I checked out and went for a walk bit soon got over that and went and sat outside the restaurant. Someone had been setting tables outside including massive big steak knives for anyone to grab as the walk past. Imagine that happening any where else. 

I think this may be an experience to savour. Once it hit 12 noon I was welcomed in through the partly closed curtain to a choice of seats near the parilla. 

The menu comes, I’m stuck for choice; sirloin, rump, shortribs or prawns. The copa vino Malbec is a given so that was easy. Almost immediateky I’m bought a mini loaf of freh bread and a bowl of the best tasting Patagonian Olive Oil. I order the sirloin with grilled sweet potatoes and pretty soon I get my garnishes, chimichurri, garlic and a bowl of pebre. 

If they dont bring me anything else I will be happy. The bread is the best I’ve had since I left home and the oil spicy, fresh and just delicious. 

The place is filling up fast. Some customers are going through beef cuts 1.01. by the waiters. And just as I was thinking the bread was running out they bought another. 

My massive steak arrived as did the grilled sweet potato. 

The steak cooked perfectly but did not compare with the one from the place in the market in Montevideo. Still if it had not been for that superb meal today’s would have rated quite highly. The whole experience was however excellent. I turned down desert and coffee thinking I could have them later to fill in the 12 hours I still had before my flight. 

Im curious as to where all the middle aged people are in this city (and in this restaurant). Theres lots of olds (my age +), many with dyed hair and over done. Theres plenty of young’s (20/30ish) but little in between. I wonder where they hang out. 

To fill time I decided to try my luck at the tango statue shop and partly on foot and partly by Metro found my way there stopping on the way for a coffee at a place called Coffee Town that I’d heard much about. It was a long walk but it was a damn good coffee and worth every stride. They also roast and blend their own beans and I was tempted to buy some Colombian Santander roast but then thought of the superb coffee we have at home that I don’t need to carry. Even though my suitcase has lost much of the stuff I bought with me it had gained quite a bit of chocolate and the odd cookie but having a two bag allowance I could splurge. 

As I was walking I heard music and right where the gaucho even was on Wednesday was a couple dancing tango. What a buzz for the day. Yay. 

I found the tango statue shop. It was open. I didn’t buy the one I’d seen when I first found the shop but instead bought a hand made bronze statue that is amazing and cost three times as much as the other. 

Happy but thirsty I set off to fill the next 4 hours before I can go to the airport. The lounge doesn’t open till 10pm so theres not point in going too much before that. So I walked. 

Some beautiful buildings were along the way but then I came to a horrible grotty building that was labelled Hospital on Avenida Cordoba. Surely they don’t put people in here to cure them. It is disgusting. And yet they do!!!!!!

This is an unusual city. Its trying so hard to be modern and with it but then they have hospitals like this, pavements that have so many potholes that they are dangerous, the worst publicly accessible loos I have come across, dog poo everywhere you put your feet and ATMs that are closed the same time as the bank does (they don’t have sidewalk ATMs - they are all enclosed).

They do have amazing pastry shops (everywhere in SA), beautiful parks and some stunning buildings but to me it lacked soul. The Porteños (the people from Buenos Aires) the rudest people I have come across (especially the older women).

I haven’t heard anything of the native people of Buenos Aires, the Mapuche. They seem to have been brushed aside for a city trying to be a bit Italian and a bit of something but neither the Spanish nor any of the natives seem to feature. 

Time for the airport and I grab a cab where a radio is re-living Maradona’s goals. (For the duration of the one hour trip). I guess dreams are all there is left. 

Getting to the 40 toll booth lanes didn’t seem quite as impressive as it was. Maybe I’m just ready to leave. 

The LATAM queues are out the door. My AirNZ one was a queue of one. Me. My bag, despite the bags of alfajores and the chocolate is still less than 20k and virtually no hand luggage. 

The down side is that the lounge opened at 10pm. I arrived at 10:10pm to find it was full but I could go back and stand in a queue at 11pm and might get in. Bugger that. I was planning on having a shower and getting out of the clothes I had worn for days, including the polar fleece and the boots (approx 50 days each). Cant have a shower. Ok be like that then. And I solved all in the airside loos and dumped all the clothes I took off. 

Now what to do with the Peso that I found in my wallet and haven’t changed back. No cambio airside here!!!!

I did however manage to find food. If you can call packaged sandwiches and fries food. So fries and a coke will do to see me through to the meal I will undoubtedly get as soon as we board the plane. 

Yes I am ready to leave Argentina but I would happily stay longer and go back to Chile and Ecuador. I’m not ready for home yet. 

There were photos but the AP update I did this morning seems to have killed that ability. Check Instagram. 

NZ here I come. 

National Flag Day, Buenos Aires

Ha I spoke too soon about a good nights sleep and I paid for it on my last night in Colonia when I tossed and turned the whole night. But here I am at the ferry terminal ready to say adios Uruguay. From the little I have seen you are unbelievably pretty, you’ve given me some great food and your people have been mainly lovely. I wish I’d had time to explore further north. 

I missed out on putrid coffee at the hotel and am having one here. I watched the ‘barisita’ making it. A few flicks of the freshly ground coffee and with an untamped half filled bowl he clicks it into place and out comes a great looking coffee, great golden crēma and all. It even tastes ok. Now how that worked I don’t know. Maybe I just try too hard at home. 

The one hour ferry crossing came to an end without drama and safely saw us back on Argentina’s soil. The lady in the seat in front of me had a good sleep on the voyage. I’m sure she didn’t realise that the entire cabin could hear her snoring. As usual there is a bun fight to get off, quick, quick someone might get off before you. 

I got off and hightailed it to the suburb of San Telmo going as fast as my feet would take me so I could get to a particular shop before 12 when most places close for siesta. Well I got there only to find that it doesnt open till 12 and then stays open through siesta. Oh. I will never get this open closed thing right. 

But while I was loitering I heard music and stumbled across the Argentine Criolla (pronounced Criozia) Association celebrating something with traditional gaucho music and glorious dancing. How glorious. With an hour to kill I stood and watched the dancing, tried to decipher the speeches and admired the very dapper looking gaucho men.

It 

As I went to leave I heard a parade coming along. Of course I had to watch. It was nice to be part of a local tradition, one that was not staged or practised, nor full of tourists. 

Well I go back to the store after 12. It was still closed and then I read the sign properly. Only opens Fri, Sat and Sun. Thanks a lot. It was the only store that I had seen that had decent tango statues and there was one in the window that would look superb on my sideboard. When travelling from each country I always try to buy something representative for the wall, for the house or a piece of jewellery. This trip has been scant in my findings as few places had quality souvenirs or any sort of artwork.  

I walked half the way home and then grabbed a bus. My bag was getting heavy. On the way I saw another parade which prompted me to check just in case it was a holiday. You guessed right. Sunday was a holiday and today’s another one. It’s National Flag day and Commemorates the death of Manuel Belgrano who created the current flag. Well I’ll be blowed. This is the fourth day in a row that has been a day off/holiday/half day. No wonder I have seen so little. 

Checked in and rested I then took off to find the Alfajore shop I had read about and crossing Avenida 9 July, the widest avenue in the world. Its name honors Argentina's Independence Day, July 9, 1816. The avenue runs roughly 1 kilometre and has up to seven lanes in each direction and is flanked on either side by parallel streets of two lanes each. Through the centre of the avenue runs one of the city's Metrobus corridors, which stretches 3 kilometres. There are two wide medians between the side streets and the main road. The whole set up is amazing and the bus through lanes are brilliant. The busses zoom through.

On my way I decide to top up my bus card. There’s not many people around and so I figure doing it on a quiet day is better than trying to figure out the kiosk on a busy day. Except it seems that terminals are on holiday too! Oh well a lovely lady took me to the ticket counter who solved my problem. 

Each place I have been to is gearing up to bring the world cup home. Flags are everywhere, souvenir and junk shops are full of gear in their respective colours and some places have gone all out with displays.  These are tiny macarons. 

Even googles in on it. I love the wee matē bowl:

I have the address for the Alfajore shop and found the street OK but the street starts at number 700 and I’m looking for 499. I searched all over, got fed up and after an hours walk came home again.

Later on I found address for another shop so set out in search. Closed! Bah. Enough. Over it. Sorry but you folks back home wont be getting any Alfajores from the best shop in Buenos Aires. It was dinner time and I felt like Empanadas and remembered the place I had been to on the useless night walking tour so set out to find it. Seems my memory wasn’t so good and I couldn’t find the place, but nor did I find any other Empanada shop despite the long trek. Some shops are open tonight and some aren’t, there doesn’t seem to be any logic to what it and what isn’t. The streets are quite bereft of people which is a shame as it is a lovely night and it would have been nice to be wandering amongst the throngs. Oh yes but it is a holiday.

I walked and walked and then came across a mall with a food hall where I sat and had a stir fry with veges. I’m not a great stir fry fan and this certainly was’t a culinary masterpiece but it was so damn good; I realised that I had missed my veg. And an dulce de leche ice cream in the crunchiest cone to follow. Yay. 

I have walked over 20k and achieved nothing. I was hoping to have used the day to do a bit of shopping so I could pack my bag before moving to my last hotel of my stay. I am in Argent Suites where I stayed when I first arrived in BA and again last week before I went to Uruguay. The hotel is so well located within easy walking distance of everything and I had left my bag with then so it made sense for me to come stay when I got back from Uruguay. They are fully booked for my last night so I will move to another hotel (I think that makes it 17 or 18 different beds) in the area of Palermo which I haven’t yet explored.  

The Argent Is the place where I endured the snoring coming from the room next door and as I write this I realise that the guy might not have been snoring quite so loud but the walls in this place are like tissue paper. Overnight I listened to doors closing, toilets flushing, people passing wind, conversations (at 3:00am), pipes clanging, jugs boiling - all crystal clear as though they were in the same room. I was hoping to sleep in but gave up at 7:30 and got up and made myself coffee. Drat. Oh well. There’s still hope of a decent sleep on my last night in South America. 

Colonia del Sacramento is closed!

Well what a beaut bed I slept in last night. It’s not often that I sleep well the first night in a new bed and it was as great. Shame I couldn’t say the same about breakfast which had a pile of random things thrown onto a buffet table along with the ‘norm’ coffee pump pot. 

I needed real coffee so I set off in search but before the coffee I had a more pressing job and that was to change the time of my departing ferry tomorrow. I had almost covered every square inch of the old city yesterday, today would explore more which left nothing to do for an entire day tomorrow. So Im going back to Buenos Aires earlier. Imagine! But at least I have a few bits of last minute stuff to do there and that will keep me busy. 

So then I started the walk to the city in search of that coffee. Some of the streets were blocked off and looked like a parade was in the making. When I asked I was told it was a holiday today and a parade would start soon. Oh yeah! So thats the third day in a row that half the places are closed so not expecting to find much happening I continued my walk. 

Little did I see; a shopping mall with about 30 shops, an artisan market where the word ‘artisan’ should have been replaced with ‘mass produced souvenir’ as nothing was hand made or unique and a few more pretty buildings. 

I eventually got back to the spot where I first got sight of the parade preparations and two hours later I caught the tail of end of it. It was to honour the birthday of José Gervasio Artigas, soldier and regarded as the father of Uruguayan independence. It seems the parade participants were predominantly members of the forces, fire brigade and some school kids and I managed a few pics before it finished.

Once the last of the tanks passed I shot across the road to a big cafeteria in the hope of finding at least a coffee. I underestimated the place for they served me up a superb espresso. Yay. It Took a while but it was worth waiting for. 

I rambled round the old city a bit hoping to find a piece of art that I could bring home, but alas, nothing other than cheap souvenirs (made in Asia) or matē sets to choose from. A shame. As always there is the odd thing to click away at:

Lunch beckoned and after checking out a few I was lured by El Drugstore which I’d read was pretty good. Certainly different with a zany colourful interior, open kitchen and great music. It was a pretty good meal too with hot crusty bread, a perfectly grilled chicken breast with ‘rustica’ potatoes and a not the greatest copa vino tinto. But I enjoyed having something other than a steak and fries. Sadly forgot to take the pic!

This place is so pretty but it really is just a big tourist trap with nothing to do but walk and eat at overpriced restaurants. What do you do once you have walked the old city? Like me - go for siesta. The answer to everything. 

I woke hungry but at only 5:30pm knew that nothing would be open for dinner this early and in my rambling haven’t seen anything like a place for a snack or a mini market. There’s nothing to do in my room and it’s too cold for wandering so it time to kill time.

I hung out till 8pm when Istanbul restaurant around the corner was to open. Just to be sure I was getting the best meal I checked on the best restaurants in the area and then went to check them out. 10 of them, one was the one I ate lunch at and the Istanbul was also included. So that’s eight new restaurants I went round. Every single one closed. OK I go back to the Istanbul for the kofta on their menu (then the ice cream place on the corner for afters). I get to the Istanbul. Closed. And the ice cream place was closing up too. 

Colonia you have made it very difficult for me to comment as to whether this is an upcoming place for foodies as everything is shut. Whether it’s because it is off season, or because yesterday was Monday and today is a holiday I don’t know but I’m bitterly disappointed.

Hungry and annoyed I went back to the only of the other restaurant that I passed that had people in it ‘Meson de la Plaza’.

The building that the restaurant is housed in dates back to the 18th century and over the years has been renovated and then taken back to its original state. There are two dining rooms each in a different building joined together by a hallway. The building I am sitting in has a stud that must be around 4.5 metres. The ceiling is exposed beams showing a paper like substance underneath. The walls are exposed natural stone about 1foot thick. Even the art work is old. Its gorgeous. 

They have a few dishes that I have not seen on other menus - sweet and sour pork and american spare ribs. As desperate as I am for something different I’m not going there so order a simple spaghetti with tomato. I cheer up when I see my plate of spaghetti, it is massive and looks divine. 

Firstly hot bread rolls - tick. Then perfectly cooked spag - tick. Pile on a delicious thick and chunky tomato sauce with heaps of freshly grated parmesan - tick. Yay here I have a tasty, wholesome, hearty meal and exactly what I needed. The best pasta dish I’ve had since leaving home. 

And just as I finish my coke and ready to leave the live music comes out. No way am I leaving just yet guys. I order tea to stretch my occupancy out a bit. 

A guitarist with the voice of an angel took me back to Roma, the place I miss so much. He sings mainly in Italian but then throws a few Spanish worded songs as well. Divine. 

I ask for the bill and hope that I have time to grab a clip of the singing as I am walking out the door (he was sitting in the space between the two dining rooms so I couldn’t grab a pic from where I was sitting). Murphy’s Law, on e settled up and the moment I stand to leave he finishes for a break. Darn.

An early start tomorrow to catch the ferry so lights out. Buenos Noches.  Hope tonight’s sleep is as good as last night.  The siesta certianly was.

Colonia del Sacramento, Uruguay

Breakfast done, I check out of my home for the last three days and hail a cab to take me to the bus station for my trip to Colonia del Sacramento. Taxi drivers here have a glass/perspex shield between them and the passenger and you pay them through a little slot in the shield. Feels a bit weird stuck in the back with the dividers between us but it keeps every safe I guess, and means you don’t have to listen to taxi driver rants.  

As we were driving along it struck me that there were no stray dogs running round Montevideo like there have been every where else I have been. In some places there are dozens of them everywhere, all looking as though they are being fed but some are pretty scruffy and not well cared for. In the pretty upmarket suburb with rude people where I stayed they all had designer pooches on fancy leads, but even in other areas of Montevideo there were no dogs roaming free. 

Dropped off at the bus station I bought my ticket then grabbed my window seat on the near empty bus, stripped off the woolies and sat enjoying the sun streaming through the window as we took off. 

The scenery was so relaxing, just like being at home; silage pits, hay bales, sheep, cows, green grass, windmills even scrub like NZ’s. The soil is obviously very fertile and a very dark brown, almost volcanic looking. 

56k (I saw the sign) from our destination a young lady boards and sits in front of me, (the bus was 3/4 empty so she could have sat anywhere) closes her window curtain, dons her neck cushion, looks behind and then reclines seat right back (they go almost 180 degrees and rest on the seat behind) so it whacked my knees. Oy lady click your seat up. Knock knock on the back of her headrest. She did slightly but just enough for me to be able to move and make me not feel upset if I hit the back of her seat while I was moving. Then she got cranky cos I wouldn’t close my curtain. Hello love the whole bus is not yours. Go sit in the empty seats on the other side of the bus where there is no sun. My curtain remained untouched till I alighted at Colonia. 

Now Montevideo was love at first sight so I’m not sure what the words should be to describe first impressions of Colonia. I hopped off the bus on a gloriously sunny day and walked into the Isite at the bus station where the loveliest lady, who could barely speak English, loaded me with maps and instructions and sent me to the next Isite where they were just as lovely. On the way walking to my hotel I passed a few of the local landmarks but kept going till I got to the hotel, where I was greeted by another lovely lady and shown to my upgraded and gorgeous hotel room at Posada del Virrey. The room is gorgeous, has divine curtains, is oozing with character and with the most divine aroma. Both the bedroom and bathroom have an exposed stone wall and I suspect the building is very old.  The huge doors have giant shutters outside and the ceiling is enormously high with a scalloped finish.  The rooms come off an outdoor courtyard which comes off the main building and I can see staircases here and there which I suspect lead off to other sections.  I love it and and could have easily just stayed there but its a beautiful day and I have stuff to do. 

I dumped my bag and went exploring, hungry as I went, and found I was surrounded by restaurants, many overlooking the ocean, but the first cafe had caught my eye offering Croquettes Bakalao. I’m a sucker for salted cod so I went back there, walked down a cobbled lane, through a courtyard into a space where an old guy was doing his books. Figuring I had lost my way I asked to look around and discovered a quaint brick lined room with about six tables. I’m sold and am now sitting in The Augusto Tea House sipping on my copa de vino tinto eagerly awaiting my lunch. 

The croquettes were very much spanish style and very creamy but I’m still waiting for the wham of the bakalao. Since I’m on the last one it does not appear to be coming but it was nice to have something different to eat for a change and the classical music playing softly in the background is perfecto. 

Time to explore which I did, all of the sites of the old city in about half an hour. Love at first sight, yes it was but I’m not sure what I am going to do for the next few days now that I have walked down every street of the old town, gone into every shop and gone into the places that interest me. Oh I know. Sit at one of the many cafes and watch the sunset, except although most say they are abierto (open) there’s no one home. Easily solved. I bought a coke from a kiosk and sat at the yacht port with many others waiting for the sun to go down. 

As I sat there I was treated to the best entertainment yet. Two young women waiting, like me, for the sunset. One ordering the other around to take photos of her. Thats cool, but she wants the photos taken from behind her as she was looking into the sun. All good until she spends ages getting her hair and smile right before her friend is allowed to take the photos of her back!!!! Thanks girls you have filled in my half hour nicely. 

The next half hour was spent watching a driver trying to get his four wheel drive out of a rather ample but tricky park. Eventually his mates came along and reminded him that he had a 4wd and could drive onto the footpath to give himself more room. Thanks for another laugh guys. He he he! 

The locals with their matē are gathering. They too want to see the sunset over the Rio de la Plata with the very vague outlines of the sky scrapers at Buenos Aires’ Puerto Madera just visible in the background. 

This really is a pretty old town, gorgeous, but dangerous cobbled footpaths (NZ H&S would have them covered with spongy surfaces). The roots of the beautiful Sycamores that line most every street, littering the streets below with their russet coloured leaves, have broken through most of the road and footpath surfaces so cobblestones aside even the paved paths are treacherous. The old section is rather small with a few main sites:

• the remnants of the original city gate which was partly restored/rebuilt last century
• the famous street of sighs. Wiki tells me “there are different theories about how it got its name. One is that criminals used to get hung at the end of the street (no records to back this up so it can be dismissed). Another is that prostitutes used to line the street to tempt the sailors (where the sighs come in there are best left to your imagination), and a final one about a lover that was killed on this street and with her last breath (sigh) calling her partner (which I suspect was invented to try and romanticize the street).”
• the convent and adjacent lighthouse built in 1694, destroyed by fire in 1704 and the rebuild completed in 1857.
• the BasilIica which is the most unadorned church I have seen in a long time
• the ruins of many of the old buildings each with a story to tell

There’s also a few boutiques and souvenir shops, nothing too exciting but very very quaint.  There’s a few dogs hanging round, an aquarium (with unique advertising) and lots of tree lined streets.

My love at first sight is waning and this is the place I most wanted to see but tomorrow is another day and I can explore more then. 

Despite there being lots of restaurants around the neighbourhood most are closed when I went searching at 7:30pm. My choices were narrowed to two, one advertising burgers and another, a parilla, down near my hotel which is where I ended up going despite not wanting another meal of grilled meat. Obviously they didn’t want me there, as after a few minutes and a hello they hadn’t acknowledged me, so I sat and waited a bit. Still no hello so I left and reconciled myself to the fact that I would be having another burger. Except that shop, despite advertising cheese burgers, doesn’t do burgers. Now I am hungry and getting very peed off. They do have provoletta on the menu so I ordered that with a coke. Not holding my breath, the coke is out of a machine and comes in a waxed cup, with plastic straw and a plastic lid. Has the makings of a burger bar without the burger! The provoletta was different. An earthenware dish with melted cheese (not all of it was provolone and judging by the stretch I think mozzarella has crept in there too), sprinkled with oregano and floating in oil. I was hungry, it came with plenty of bread and I made a meal out of it. For a city that has a reputation for fine food this is not what I expected. Hopefully tomorrow more places will be open.  I look forward to it........

Markets, markets and more markets. What a day in Montevideo

Oh well, it was going to be an early start but sometimes things just don’t work out the way we plan. I even missed breakfast so was a little cranky when I set off this morning. But my bus arrived as soon as I got to my stop, it was a sunny day and I was in one of the prettiest cities I have ever been in. Can’t be all bad. 

One of the reasons I stayed over today in Montevideo was to go visit the ‘amazing’ Feria de Tristàn Narvaja market. That indeed I did. A street market that stretches 5 streets in one direction and 7 in another (35 blocks) full of everything you can imagine: fruit, cheese, second hand junk, clothes, shoes 👞, hardware, art, electrics, leather goods. New, pre loved and just pre. Much of it was cheap and nasty but buyers were a plenty and there was a real buzz. I was hoping for street food but was bitterly disappointed (seems sadly lacking in most of the parts of South America that I visited). All in all a fun experience but not one I would repeat or recommend. 

I carried on walking in the direction I went yesterday and as a creature of habit went to the same coffee shop I went to yesterday (coffee was ok and wifi excellent). I sat in the same seat and there in front of me and over a bit was the same guy that was sitting in that seat yesterday. Ha ha. A futbol game is starting on telly so the place is filling up. 

Most everything in the city is shut. I tried to get in to a couple of museums but all closed in. I did wander in to a church to be greeted by a loud and vigorous outpouring from the preacher. Not my kind of church, so that was that. 

Still wandering I walk past the Metropolitan Cathedral and go in just as a service was ending to be greeted by the most amazing singing and music. Soul grabbing. The atmosphere and the beautiful space were such a contrast to the previous place. 

  

Still walking I need food and remembered there was a futbol game on today. Hoping I have the time right I go back to the market to the same place I was yesterday. My waiter remembered me and with a quick question “copa vino” and my “Si” response quickly returns with a glass almost overflowing. That tip yesterday was worth it. He suggests something on the menu. Who am I to argue, without having any idea of what it might be, I agree. 

He brings a bottle of bubbles and gives me a sample to try. Maybe I went overboard with that tip yesterday. Its a very unusual bubbles, little taste but lots of bubbles. 

My meal arrives. I knew I could trust him. I think I’ve found a place that not only knows how to cook pork but for beef knows its medium from its rare. Perfecto! What I have been waiting nearly two months for. A perfectly cooked scotch fillet so tender I don’t need a knife. Kinda beats my previous best steak ever in Johannesburg some 15 years ago. Wow! It got to the stage where I was cutting the steak into small pieces so it would last longer. Divine, absolutely divine and sorry Anthony, your ceviche is now No. 2 on my list. 

I’m envious. The group of four in the table next to me are sharing meals. Now they are on a divine looking paella. I want. Dare I come back tonight? Im not a fat of beef fat but I even went back and picked my way through in case I found another tiny bit of beef. Heaven on a plate. 

Whilst eating I am watching the Mexico Germany game. Gosh the Germans don’t look happy. Oh dear. 

For some reason the waiter tells me his Mum is Swiss, like it changes anything. I guess we are ‘friends’. Mate if every meal is as good as the last two I’ve had here I will emigrate. 

I’m never going to get a glimpse of what else this gorgeous and diverse city has to offer so I hopped on to the tourist bus, which conveniently was there waiting at stop 1 when I finished my steak. 

Driving round I note that there are not so many smokers here but many many people wandering with their matē bowl and thermos in tow. Smoking is very prevalent in South America, they obviously haven’t got the message yet. At least in Montevideo the place is not littered with butts like many places, but then the city here is well maintained and clean. 

The tree lined streets unending. The smell of BBQ ever pervading. 

The beautiful buildings go on and on, too many to describe, too many to choose which are the most beautiful.  

OMG. I am jolted into reality when I hear “food market” for the next stop on the bus. Scrambling to unplug myself, gather my fone and camera, grab my shopping all in half a second and I am off that bus so damn quick I nearly walked out with headphones on. 

Was it worth the scramble? Every second of it. 

A very civilised market space with individual shops selling anything you might want foodwise. Green grocers, gluten free shops, specialised butchers, liquor outlets as well as restaurants, cafes, bars and ice cream parlours. All degrees of heaven under one roof. I ogled, drooled, marvelled that I had heard the commentary and celebrated with a ‘super dulce de leche’ helado (one scoop of dulche de leche with dulce de leche caramel streaks running through it). Oh so good and a just reward for my tough day. 

Once I got back on the bus the rest of the trip was through some gorgeous residential areas and a couple of beautiful parks. So many parks here. It must be glorious in summer before the trees lose their leaves but even now the green and the wide open spaces are amazing.  We also drove past the national futbol field ‘Estadio Centenario”. Uruguay won the first world cup game and I have noticed the number of national flags on cars and houses seems to be growing. The shops have souvenir stuff by the ton. 

So far I haven’t seen anything grotty, un maintained or anything resembling a poor neighbourhood. Footpaths are in need of some TLC and some of the roads could do with a re surface but for the main the infrastructure is far better than the other places I have been. Even the loos here cope with loo paper, and that’s a first. Like Argentina (or the parts that I have seen anyway) this could be any Western country with few visible signs of anything but European settlement which despite its uncompromising beauty means it loses that spark that gets me going.  But having said that I would live here easily.  

The bus ride takes us (I’m the only passenger on board) along the rambla coming to a stop at the mall near home. 

It was such a good day I had to go ruin it on the way home by going to Maccers: when you aren’t hungry but don’t want to leave the hotel once you are back there you get what you deserve. 1/4pounder w bacon meal for $13.25 is what I thought I ordered. What I got was two pieces of broiled something, some soggy bacon, a slice of american cheese and smothered in blue cheese and mayo inside a brioche bun. I ate the chips, drunk the coke, took one bite of the meat and left the rest the way I got it, cute little flag on top intact. 

Another super day in Montevideo is over. Tomorrow I head along the Rio de la Plata to Colonia de Sacramento. Can’t wait.