The New Member of the Crew
I must say never thought I'd see the day. My sister, as well travelled and well cultured as she is, is not exactly the next candidate for Survivor or The Amazing Race (thank god for that). Neither is she high maintenance. She's more of an Aprentice-winning girl. And my sis has simply never came across the chance to eurorail or backpack her way distances long and far, on tight budgets and with questionable amenities (and cleanliness).
Monica was a solid new member to our tired two-man team. First of all she surprised everyone with a proficiency in Spanish we could only dream of. She is also gung ho for adventure. Finally to Mono's credit, she injected a bit of party spirit that our domesticated travel routine sorely needed. We didn't dare propose staying in one night to watch the next episode of 24 on the old netbook, for example.
It was dark when we disembarked from the Bouquebus ferry from Buenos Aires (pronounced bookey boose). The port was as dark and seedy as you would expect. We cabbed it over to a last minute choice of hostel right on the main square. Che Lagarto hostel was in an old historic building that happened to have been the first judicial court in Uruguay. I took a nap to catch up on sleep or lack therof from the infection. The girls shared a few beers and I think Mono quickly began to see the benefits of hostel living. Rooms can be quite charming (especially if you pay a little extra) and the atmosphere is usually very warm with young people hanging out together. Unfortunately, Che Lagarto in Montevideo was not a good example of this and I think Steph and I will try harder to find a fun place to stay.
Che Lagarto - Monica noted the shame that such an interesting building lacked any effort in decoration. However they'd dedicated an entire area “Chill Out Zone”. By this stage, it was clear she had already taken to backpacking in stride. She was both excited to be travelling by boat and bus, and keen to see the advantages of hostel life with other young travellers.
Napped and ready to go - That night we were in for a cold change from Buenos Aires. The air was colder and more windy. The streets outside our hostel on the plaza major were completely barron. We were a bit creeped out on the way to a restaurant that there was not a soul in sight in this town centre at 10pm at night.
The Italian dinner was impressive. The group of men next to us must have had a lot of Tannat wine. One of them echoed an English word in our conversation as he left, exclaiming "Change....Hahahaha!" This was a little odd...but made us laugh till we dashed home.
On the swift walk back, a man in a red car was stopped at the traffic light. He swiviled his head toward us, rolled down the window, and pulled his lower eyelid down with his finger. He sturnly murmured “Peligrosso” (danger). This was not to scare us but to warn us - The truth is that Montevideo is ranked as the safest city in South America (kidnappings are unheard of). Although trash was the only thing in the streets at this hour, that's what the guide book assured us (but perhaps not after 9pm in these parts...).
A market filled day followed. We toured three of the city's markets of crafts, vegetables and meat. The latter was the old mercado near the port. Moonoo, a brave vegetarian, was again in grilled meat territory with lots of parilla restaurants. Unfortunately her travel diet here was restricted to melted cheese sandwiches and fries.
We picnicked by the sea while fishermen scooped up plastic bags of fish who seemed to just jump onto the pebbled beach.
Steph completed a painful mission to find inserts for her giant feet from the smallest cobler we had ever met. "Moonoo" on the other hand, was having success at every cornershop with milka and cadbury's own alfajores biscuits. I think she cleaned out the north side of the old town.
The highlight off Montevideo, and perhaps all of Uruguay, was the Teatro Solis. We had a lovely private tour of this restored state theatre from Lucia. She loved practicing her English while giving us of some local restaurants and food treasures to hunt down.
That night we made it our mission to do so and particularly enjoyed a “chivito” served with fries and a “chop” at cerveceria 'La Passiva'. To round out the night we couldn't leave Montevideo without stopping by Bar Fun Fun which had come highly recommended by our new friends and just about every guide book. To our surprise we were by far the youngest people there to take in what was not a tango dancing club but a proper tango concert.
I read that the most famous tango song was actually written by a poor montevidean waitor who sold and lost the rights to his music before it made music history.
Mono was not to be denied a nightcap on the way home on a street lined with pubs. We laughed at my incessent hiccups from the medicine and a group of guys who had the fiercest air guitar frenzy I've ever seen. Alas, with the few rounds they had at Fun Fun, our lady travellers were more amused than my sober tired body could be. I hated to be the party pooper whose second day on antibiotics saw less reason to stay up all night. After all, we were to hop an early bus to Colonia del Sacramento!
To be continued.
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