El Diablo beach is supposedly one of the most beautiful
beaches in Uruguay. It’s a 4 hour bus ride from Montevideo, and of course, I
absolutely have to go there. It took me 40 min to walk to the bus station.
These days I have learned my lesson, and take a piece of paper with the
instructions written in Spanish so there is absolutely no confusion. Jonathan,
a 29 year old guy from Israel, walked with me because he needed bus tickets
too. It’s really amazing and inspiring to hear about other people’s travels and
experiences. He has taken 4 months off every 3 years since he was 23. The list
of places he’s been to is exhaustive, and he usually travels solo. It’s easier to
stick around one place for a while if he finds a girl he likes, he explained.
You have to be very careful crossing streets here. Jonathan
asked me, “When do we have the right of way??” and I said “never.” You never,
ever have the right of way, even if there are crosswalks and the pedestrian
signal is green. Cars will run you right over!! On the way back from the bus
station, I stopped and got my first empanada of the trip. The crust was so rich
and buttery, filled with mozzarella, tomatoes, and basil. A caprese empanada –
only 30 cents. There are all flavors imaginable, and they are usually a
bargain.
The pool here at the hostel is so nice, but I am pretty sure
this is where the mosquitoes are coming from. This morning I woke up with a few
fresh welts, and they itch like crazy!!! Mosquitoes are the freaking worst.
Decided to do an open air bus tour of the city. Despite the fact that I got a
ton of sleep last night, I could barely keep my eyes open once on the bus.
Cars, buses, and planes have this effect on me. Kept nodding off, but still was
able to see all the sites. It was mostly parks, statues, and buildings. I’ve
been taking loads of pictures of buildings lately, which I’m sure no one really
wants to see. So I’ll try and chill out on that for a while. The bus tour was
kind of ridiculous, because it’s supposedly “hop on, hop off”, but the girl
said that it’s so busy today, once you hop off you probably won’t be able to
get back on. Super lame!! What’s the point of that? I took my chances and
hopped off at stop #9, which was a large mall next to the World Trade Center.
I tried Freddo gelato for the 1st time, which is
a big Argentinian chain here in Uruguay. One scoop of crema a la fruta which
tasted like fresh strawberries, and one scoop chocolate. Decadent. Walked
through the mall for about 5 minutes but that just made my blood pressure rise.
Way too crowded and there was nothing they had that I wanted to buy. So I
walked around for a while and came across another ice cream place. Well, I
guess it wouldn’t hurt to try a scoop of their product too so that I could
compare ;) Limon con salsa fresa – lemon with strawberry sauce… amazing! Mom
would have loved this one. But Freddo still takes the 1st place
ribbon. Tried to get back on the next bus but the girl had been right, it was full Ditched the bus tour and got a taxi to the port.
Puerto de Montevideo is an area bursting with activity. It
has a thriving market, tons of fine seafood and steak restaurants, and the most
popular attraction: wood fired BBQ pits. The spits and grates are loaded with
beef, blood sausages, and vegetables. For the meat lover, this is heaven. I
checked out a menu at one of the restaurants and saw they had a large fresh
fish selection, but I was still too full from my 3 scoops of ice cream! So I
wandered around the market and streets before walking to the end of a long
concrete jetty. There were lots of locals fishing from the jetty. “Mas
pescados?!” I asked, to which everyone replied, “Nooo, poquito pescados.” I
only saw one person catch fish. Guess they weren’t biting that evening.
So far I’ve been in South America for over a week now, and
there is still something I am having a really hard time adjusting to. It seems
that I am a spectacle when in public. People don’t just glance at me, they stare. Constantly. And the men don’t
even try to hide their head-to-toe sweep. I’m just not sure how I should act.
Like, should I lock eyes and stare back? Smile? Look at the ground? Say hola?
If I smile at everyone who stares, then I feel like a Cheshire cat. If I don’t
smile, I’ve even heard one person say “ay, sonrisa!” to me as they walked by. I
guess this comes with the territory of being a blonde in Latin America. Maybe
I’ll get used to it after a while. I just feel like I’m on a constant catwalk,
and it makes me a little self-conscious. But, being a young blonde America girl
also has its perks. Like Jonathan said, “You can get anything you want.” And
that, for the most part, is true J
Back at the hostel, a group of – you guessed it – Brazilians
were getting ready to go out for the daily drum march. Vladmir was making an
orange cake from scratch. His hair is phenomenal, a soft bouncy mound of fluff.
An afro, actually. Fabio from Rio was heating up some water for his thermos
before we all went out. He said they drink a lot of mate in South Brazil. I
can’t get over this mate obsession – it’s pretty crazy here! At least 50% of
the population is walking around, running errands and carrying their mug and
thermos. They love the stuff!!! The drum group was incredible. It was consisted
of about 40 mostly shirtless guys on huge yellow drums, 2 men waving Uruguayan
flags, and a bunch of young girls dancing. They do this every evening in the
summer all throughout the city to welcome the sunset. Everyone is dancing. The
men pound their drums so hard they work up a sweat and some even bloody their
hands a little. The energy was electric.
My plan was to hit the sack early today. But when we
returned to the hostel around 10 pm, there was the most beautiful music coming
from the sitting room. A Brazilian guy and an American boy (Phil) from Reno were
playing duets on the guitar and banjo. Before long, a few more Brazilians, 3
Italians, and Vladmir joined. Cervesas were poured, and a random mini music
festival was enjoyed until the wee hours of 3 am. Reminded me of “the love lab”
the first year I moved to Ocean Beach, San Diego. My friends all made fun of me
over this back in the day… “Heather! You dirty hippie!” The love lab was an
open mic music venue and hippie hangout in these 2 guys attic in Point Loma,
complete with bean bags, candles, patchouli, and a big heart behind the stage.
Those were some times I will never, ever in my life forget. As I write this,
Vladmir is playing Jack Johnson tunes on the ukelele. And before that, Phil was picking a lil’ dueling banjos. The orange cake is delicate and sweet, although Vladmir says that "it didn't grow" correctly. I love simple randomness. This is my happy place.
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