Days 42-43: Bariloche, Argentina

Thursday morning, Dan and I got our first peek of Bariloche sunshine. We decided to take advantage of the change in weather by going on a hike. We layered up, caught a bus (eventually--it took over 45 minutes before an available one rolled by), and went to a recommended location: Lake Gutiérrez. The landscape, especially with a (finally!) blue background, was beautiful. We walked along the lake, then took a couple of different trails through the nearby national park. 

Once we had spent a sufficient amount of time walking around, we went back into town. There, we got several tastes of Bariloche's chocolate, as we ambled into various stores and sampled the chocolates they had on display. Dan had his fill after three pieces, even though I could probably have gone on a chocolate excursion for the remainder of the day. 

After indulging my sweet tooth, Dan and I went to the supermarket to get the ingredients to make a home-cooked dinner. We cooked up a tasty stir-fry that evening, and as we ate, conversed with three people from our hostel: a couple from Northern Ireland and a girl from outside Manchester. Among other topics, we discussed our shared desire to go on a bike trip in the area, and made plans for a joint outing the following day.

Although we had initially planned to be in Bariloche for only three days, we decided to tack on an extra day to make up for our lost snow day. So rather than leaving the next morning, we went with our three new friends on an adventure. First, we went to a recommended viewpoint atop a mountain. We could have gotten to the lookout via chairlift or hiking, so naturally we challenged ourselves to go on the hike. I'm not sure the other two girls were thrilled by this choice, but after some time, we made it to the peak where we had earned some astounding panoramic views. 

After traversing back down the mountain, which was made quite difficult by the previous day's snowfall, we went to a nearby bike shop to rent (or as the Brits said, "hire") some bikes. There, the attendant gave us a map on which he showed us the trail and a few good lookout points. What he had failed to mention, however, was just how difficult the course was. Despite the fact that I haven't consistently exercised in over a month, I would consider myself to be in decent shape. Yet the trail was anything but easy. The other couple bowed out after about 5 minutes, and the remaining three of us had to take it quite slow over the rolling hills. The only point at which we gathered a second-wind was when two dogs started chasing our bikes through the street for about 30 yards. Other than that, I struggled mightily to survive our mini Tour de France.

Eventually we made it back to the rental shop, where we happily returned our bikes and then bussed it back to town. For the remainder of the day, I was content with doing nothing other than eating some food (including chocolate), and at night, sitting around and drinking wine with a great group of people from our hostel.

Days 40-41: Bariloche, Argentina

On Tuesday afternoon, Dan and I took a flight to a town in the northwest region of Patigonia called Bariloche. We had heard this was a popular backpackers destination with great outdoor activities, so we were excited to arrive. However, we were not prepared for the brutally cold, rainy weather. In fact, it was significantly colder than our previous stop in El Calafate, which had been much farther south. 

We took a cab from the airport to our hostel. There, we settled into our shoebox room and washed up in the shared bathroom, a harsh drop back to reality after enjoying upgraded accommodations with my mom. We then spent only a bit of time walking through the town before retreating to the "warmth" of our hostel. 

That evening, we considered cooking dinner (the hostel has a massive kitchen and we have almost solely been eating out), but we did not want to get cabin fever. So we enjoyed a meal in town before heading back to our building. Overnight, the weather showed no signs of improving. I woke up about every hour from the sounds of whipping and whistling winds.

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The weather continued to look menacing the next morning. Dan and I decided we would probably call the day a wash and hang indoors. We ate breakfast in our hostel, where we happened to sit down next to three Israeli guys. We got to talking with them and learned they were following the common practice of traveling after the army. The five of us covered a variety of conversation topics, which included discussing our Rosh Hashanah plans (coincidentally, these were the first Jews we had met on our trip and the Jewish New Year was that evening). They told us about a dinner they had heard about through their extensive Israeli network--apparently there are Israelis in every crevasse of the world--and invited us to join them. The only requirement was that we bring something. We readily agreed, and thanked them for the offer.

Throughout the day, snow poured down from the sky, so we only left our hostel for necessities. Along with its outdoor attractions, Bariloche is known for its chocolates and beers. So for lunch, we went to a cerveceria, or microbrewery, where we sampled some of the craft beers alongside our meal. We then stopped at the grocery store to pick up some items for our potluck dish. Once back at the hostel, we watched a movie with the Israelis, and then began preparing our dish of rice with vegetables. Or rather, Dan prepared and I took to the difficult task of monitoring his work.

We set out after 8 o'clock to go to the dinner. By that time, the snow had finally let up, but the weather was still freezing (literally--0 degrees Celsius). With food and wine in hand, we entered the tiny building that hosted all 80 or so of the city's Jews, along with about 20 travelers. The members of the synagogue (the building apparently doubled as one) were extremely welcoming, and put our dish beside the overflowing counter of food. We then sat down at a table and began talking to the other travelers (mostly Israelis) and a few locals. Soon after, we said a few blessings and the temple leader gave a speech about having a sweet New Year; he commemorated this with strawberries instead of apples, because that is the fruit in-season here. After the speech, we got up to enjoy the bountiful feast. 

When dinner was winding down, the community's teens led the room in some singing, and presented a slideshow that highlighted their activities at the Jewish center during the previous year. They then brought out the dessert, and after, the dancing began. It seemed that because they were so small in number, the community had invented a number of traditions solely their own. So every Hebrew song that played was accompanied by a dance that most of the community members knew. We participated in a few, but mostly watched as they performed the choreography. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, and the dancing didn't stop until a little after midnight.

When it was finally time to leave, we thanked a few people for their hospitality and walked with a bunch of Israelies and a few locals to a cerveceria in town. We spent the next few hours sitting, talking, and drinking beer before finally ending our New Years celebration. It was a great night, and definitely a Rosh Hashanah I will never forget.

Days 37-39: El Calafate, Argentina

It Friday evening, we took a flight to El Calafate, a city in the southernmost province of Patagonia. The airport fell a few miles outside the city, and there was absolutely nothing else around the landing site. So as we neared our destination, we strained our eyes to see through the darkness. It wasn't until right before we hit the tarmac that we were able to make out any part of our surroundings. Needless to say, we were a long way from home.

We got a ride through the quiet "city" to our hotel, and settled in for the night. The next morning, we woke up bright and early to go on a boat excursion through Lago Argentino. We boarded a catamaran that seated about 200 people, and took off on the lake. El Calafate has become a tourist destination because of its proximity to Los Glaciares National Park. So as the boat traveled through the chilly air, we soon caught sight of numerous icebergs and a few massive glaciers. 

We spent several hours aboard the catamaran, gaining a distant view of some of the region's largest natural wonders. The air was windy with occasional flurries, so we did most of our sightseeing from the comfort of the ship. Although we did pop outdoors a few times to snap some photos of the landscape:

That afternoon, we walked through El Calafate and stopped in a few of the shops. We discovered that there were only three types of stores in the city: those selling winter gear, those selling souvenirs, and those selling chocolate and ice cream. Suffice it to say this was not exactly the type of shopping my mom had in mind, but she still did not leave empty-handed.

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The following day, Dan and I woke up to a banging on our door and the sound of my mom's voice: "Randi? Dan? Are you up? Our ride is here!" I had incorrectly set up the alarm on my replacement phone, so we were not at all prepared for our departure time. My mom went to grab us some breakfast  items while we scrambled to get ready. To our credit, we were out the door in just over five minutes.

That morning we were heading off to get an up close and personal view of the Perito Moreno glacier. It was a clear and relatively warm morning, which we discovered was a rare treat, as the area sees more than 300 days of snow each year. We took another catamaran to the site, and as soon as we got near, were in awe of the glacier's magnitude; we later learned that it is 3 miles wide and a staggering 19 miles long. 

Once ashore, we walked to a small hut where we were strapped into ice cleats that we would need for our mini-trek on the glacier. We were then broken into groups and given instructions on how to walk in our cleats: uphill with feet out-turned like a penguin, and downhill with a straight back and heavy stomps. We then began our long hike on the glacier. The walk itself was relatively easy and we spent the majority of our journey taking in the details of the ice mass: huge crevasses, bright blue colors where the ice was densest, and natural pools that we could drink from.

Every aspect of the glacier was truly breathtaking, and we needed to restrain ourselves from taking too many repetitive pictures. Our journey ended an hour and a half later when our guides took us to a trolley filled with glasses. They chipped away fresh ice from the glacier and filled our glasses with ice and whiskey. We toasted to an incredible experience and drank down the liquor.

We ate lunch beside the glacier, and then traveled back on the catamaran. In the afternoon, we went to a different location where we had panoramic views of the glacier. Every so often, we heard a loud boom, then saw ice break away from the mass and plummet into the water. The sounds were disproportionately loud to the sizes of the falling pieces; you would have thought giant sheets were falling rather than tiny chunks. Even still, it was exciting to witness. And every time we turned away and then looked back to face the glacier, the site recaptivated us. It is really hard to explain what was so remarkable about a giant mass of ice, but we all shared in this sentiment.

The following day was pretty low-key. We said goodbye to my mom midday as she departed to go back home. We then spent the afternoon taking a bike ride along the lake and hanging out at the hotel. At night, we ate dinner in town, and then returned to the hotel where we lounged around until leaving El Calafate the next day.

 

Days 34-36: Mendoza, Argentina

Early Wednesday afternoon, my mom, Dan and I left Buenos Aires for the town of Mendoza. Mendoza is in the central west region of Argentina, and is most prominently known for its production of Malbec wine. After a relatively short trip, we arrived at our hotel, or rather, wine lodge, where we would be spending the next two nights. The lodge's property was gorgeous, with only a handful of villas set amongst an expansive vineyard. I imagine the area is even more breathtaking in-season when the vines are in full bloom.

The lodge manager handed us a personalized itinerary for our stay, with the first activity set as an introductory wine tasting. My mom opted to go to the spa, but Dan and I happily elected to stick to the plan. We entered the lodge's wine cellar, which contained bottles upon bottles of locally harvested grapes. We took our seats beside one other pair, a friendly Argentine couple, and began our lesson on the popular varietals of Argentinian wine. Considering the sommelier spoke almost solely in Spanish, Dan and I were both proud of our depth of understanding. We got to sample three different types of wine from three different regions of Argentina, and left the tasting with a pleasant lightheadedness. 

After the tasting, we met up with my mom to have dinner at the lodge. We enjoyed a delicious three course meal and then ended the night sitting outdoors by the firepit. It was a clear night in a remote region, so we were lucky enough to sit under a star-filled sky.

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The next day, we got a taste (or sip, rather--the bad pun was needed) of what Mendoza had to offer. We learned that the province contains a total of 1,900 vineyards, but unfortunately we were only going to two. Our first stop was to a winery that produced several different red wines. We were able to sample four types out of the bottle and two premature blends straight from the barrel. 

Our second stop was to a beautiful vineyard, where we had five different wines accompanying a perfectly composed five-course meal. We heavily indulged in food and drink, then returned to our hotel to nap off our lunch.

That afternoon, Dan and I took advantage of the spa's facilities, which included getting a complimentary massage. The surprises then continued with a rooftop arrangement of hors d'oeuvres and champagne by the fire. We happily sat around and treated ourselves to the fare, before having another delicious meal in the lodge's wine cellar that evening. 

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The following day, the three of us set off for a rafting trip. Once at the adventure base, we suited up into the provided wetsuits, boots, helmets, and jackets. We then boarded a bus that took us to an entry point along the Mendoza River. There, we were all divided into small groups and led to separate boats, where we met our guide, climbed into the raft, and began our journey down the river.

We were only traversing through class II rapids, but the course was very exhilarating. The guide provided us with a steady flow of instructions: forward, stop, left side forward and right side back, stop, lean in, etc. Some parts of the journey were challenging while other parts had us laughing hard as we got drenched in water. Our guide was highly skilled and gave us clear instructions throughout the trip. He even led us through a "circle of trust", where we all stood atop the boat with our arms locked on each others' shoulders as the guide paddled. It was a tricky but exciting maneuver, and we were the only raft group that was allowed to attempt it. After an hour, we made it to the end of the course with smiles firmly planted on our faces.

We had a picnic-packed lunch back at the base before returning to the lodge. We then got our belongings together and said goodbye to Mendoza.

Days 32-33: Buenos Aires, Argentina

My mom arrived in Buenos Aires on Monday, the 15th, for a weeklong visit to Argentina. We reunited around noon at the hotel where we were all now staying (a slight upgrade from our previous accommodations at a hostel--thanks mom!). Once we had put our belongings into our rooms, we took a trip around the capital.

Having begun to familiarize ourselves with the city, Dan and I attempted to act as resident tour guides and show my mom the best sights Buenos Aires had to offer (in retrospect, our itinerary should have included more shopping, but we did our best). It was a warm, cloudless day, so we were able to go everywhere on foot. First, we walked to the Recoleta Cemetery, which my mom was as taken by as we had been during our initial visit. We then journeyed to the nearby Japanese Garden and Paseo del Rosedal, both of which were outdoor venues with beautiful landscaping. After, we walked through a section called Palermo to have a lunch of ice cream. As we sat and ate our treats, jet lag began to take hold of my mom, so we thereafter returned to our hotel.

At night, my mom opted to unwind in her room while Dan and I went out. We had heard from many people about a weekly drum show called Bomba del Tiempo, and went with a few of our tour friends to check it out. After arriving, we entered into a giant warehouse and collectively made our way toward the front of the room. A little after 8 o'clock, 15 red-shirted performers walked onstage and took their places behind a variety of drums and shakers. One of these individuals soon positioned himself at the conductor's post and started to signal to the band. At first, a few drummers began to beat on their instruments. Then, more joined in at a complimentary pace. Each time the conductor lifted his hands in a new motion, the drummers adjusted their tempo. The result was a mesmerizing flow of sounds that had the crowd moving in motion with the beat. 

Four conductors took their hand at leading the band, each with varying degrees of success. One leader, for example, seemed to force the beat through unnatural jerks of his hands and an uptight posture. My favorite conductor, by comparison, looked like a seasoned musician, and had the band members and audience grinning from his ability to orchestrate incredible rhythms with ease. My friends and I were completely entranced by the music and were utterly disappointed when the performance ended after two short hours. We cheered loudly as the drummers took their bows. One of them then shouted something in Spanish that we thought translated to, "Follow the drums."  We weren't sure of what that meant, but four of us stood around for awhile longer to reflect upon the experience. 

About 20 minutes later, after the warehouse had mostly cleared out, we heard the faint sounds of music nearby. We went outside to find the source of the sounds, and were ecstatic to see a group of people gathering around a handful of drummers. The musicians began to take to the streets so, along with many others, we decided to "follow the drums." My friends and I were captivated by the sounds and were all dancing to the beat of the music. As we moved through the streets, many residents came onto their balconies and waved to us (though I imagine many others covered their heads with pillows--it was 10 o'clock on a Monday night and we were probably not upholding noise ordinances).

At one point while we were walking and dancing, I unzipped my bag to grab my phone for a picture. As I reached in, my heart sank. Somehow amidst the chaos of the scene, my phone disappeared. My friends waited as Dan and I walked back a few blocks to search for it, but it was nowhere to be found. I felt almost certain that I had been pickpocketed, and my belief was only strengthened by the fact that my bag was zipped and my phone was almost instantly turned off (we discovered this after trying to use Find My Phone). 

At that point, we had lost sight of the band and the crowd, and the four of us went to a nearby restaurant to get some food. I accepted my loss as a best-case scenario, as I knew all of my phone's information was backed up, it was my only valuable missing, and I hadn't been assaulted (we had heard a few stories from people in our hostels who had been attacked in Buenos Aires or Rio). And even despite my lost phone, that evening turned out to be one of my favorites nights of the trip.

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The next day, I went with my mom and Dan to get a basic replacement phone. I ended up buying a Samsung, the same brand Dan uses. He was so excited about the prospect of converting me to his device that I almost began to question the source of my phone's disappearance. 

Once we had sorted out my phone situation, we took my mom to Florida Street to convert some more US dollars to pesos. I think she was a little sketched out by the process, but was a very good sport nonetheless. From there, we took my mom to a few other parts of the city she had not yet had an opportunity to see. We were once again treated to nearly perfect weather, so we spent most of our time walking around, stopping at market stands, and even riding on swings.

At night, my mom, Dan and I met up with three of our friends for a steak dinner. The restaurant was touted as one of the best steakhouses in Buenos Aires, so needless to say we were all very excited about the meal. Among the six of us, we shared three massive cuts of meat and an endless supply of sides. We all ate until we could fill ourselves no further and needed to take deep breaths to recover.

I was happy my mom had a chance to meet my British mates who I had grown very close to over the three weeks of our joint travels. My mom returned to the hotel after dinner, but the five of us stayed out to get drinks on what would be our last night all together. We spent a couple of hours sitting around and talking, before we finally had to say goodbye. Even though we were not traveling in the same direction, we sensed, and hoped, that at some point we would cross paths again.

Day 29-31: Buenos Aires, Argentina

I did not manage to blog during any of the six days we were in Buenos Aires, which I took as further evidence of how enamored I was with this city. Friday through Sunday passed by in a whirlwind of activities, including spending time along the beautiful port called Puerto Madero, visiting incredible, extensive markets in Recoleta and Santelmo, and even going to a cemetery.

Puerto Madero

Souvenir shopping 

A little more about this cemetery. When I had heard that a burial site was a popular attraction, I was utterly confused. However, my friends and I had been told to go there by various sources, so we deemed it a worthy destination. After enjoying coffee at an adorable nearby cafe, five us visited La Recoleta Cemetery. 

As soon as we walked through the cemetery's entrance, we were taken aback by the rows upon rows of incredible mausoleums. Each vault was uniquely designed and surprisingly beautiful. Most of them, the oldest of which dated back to the mid 1800s, belonged to either wealthy or famous Argentinian families (including the family of Eva Peron). We were all amazed by how alluring this site was, and spent an hour getting lost among the graves of the deceased.

The burial site of Eva Peron (Evita)

In addition to our daytime adventures, we had some wonderful nights  over the course of the weekend. One thing we were told prior to arriving in Argentina was that most people eat dinner late and party even later. We did our best to uphold this custom, and made it a point to go to dinner no earlier than 10 pm. We also tried our best to party the Argentinian way, though we were less successful in this endeavor. One night when we had gotten back to our hostel at 2 am, for example, the common area was still abuzz and the music was blasting. We had opted to stay at a "party hostel," so the scene was no surprise; yet I did not expect that when I woke up in the middle of the night (or morning rather--around 5 am), our bedroom would still be vibrating from the bass. It became clear that staying out late in Buenos Aires meant staying out until sunrise.

Though we did not have any absurdly crazy nights, we did have a lot of fun while out. Both the meals and the bars were great. Saturday night, in particular, was a major highlight for us. Our tour had ended Saturday morning, but five of us decided to reconnect that evening for dinner. 

Our friend had heard that "closed-door restaurants" were an up-and-coming trend in Buenos Aires, and through talking to several locals, managed to get us a reservation at one of them. A closed-door restaurant is an intimate dining experience operated out of a person's home. In our case, two Indonesian women ran and cooked the five-course dinner party. Each dish was comprised of Indonesian flavors and was absolutely delicious. The dishes were certainly not portioned for a five-course meal, though, so by the end we were all stuffed to the brim (and only Dan successfully cleared all of his plates). The dinner was unique and wonderful, and left us on a high. It was further evidence for us that Buenos Aires is a wonderful city ripe with many treasures to uncover.

Day 28: Buenos Aires, Argentina

On Thursday morning, our tour group took a boat, or what from inside looked like a mini cruise ship, to Buenos Aires. We sat on comfortable seats and enjoyed some mate tea as we crossed the river to Argentina's capital. After only an hour, we arrived at the port of the city that would soon become my favorite stop on our trip. 

A few things about Buenos Aires were readily apparent. First and foremost, it is a very developed city. Compared to Rio, for example, nearly every part of the city is bustling with people. And in Buenos Aires you can find access to most things you would be able to get in the United States. Second, Buenos Aires is a massive, sprawling city with each section feeling completely different from the adjacent ones. It is similar to Atlanta in this way, where pockets like Midtown, Little Five Points, and the Highlands have distinct vibes and are all amazing in their own right.

Though our tour director is Peruvian, he has been a resident of Buenos Aires for the past seven years and was excited to share his city with us. The first place he took us was Calle de Florida, a touristy street along which individuals of various ages stand and repeat "Cambio! Cambio!", or Exchange! Exchange! as people walk past. These individuals are part of the blue market, the common means of exchanging money in Buenos Aires; the national exchange rate is 8 pesos to 1usd, but on the blue market it is at least 13:1, so paying for everything with blue market cash is an obvious choice. However, it is not unusual to be given fake pesos in this manner, so our guide directed us to a reliable source where we exchanged our money and also learned how to identify fake bills. The whole experience of handing over US dollars and being given a wad of cash in return felt sketchy to say the least, but it was also oddly thrilling.

With pesos in hand, our group ventured off to Plaza de Mayo. This plaza is one of the main squares in Buenos Aires, and also an important political hub. Of the notable surrounding buildings, the most important is the aptly named Casa Rosada, a pink building that serves as the home of the government's executive branch. The plaza is also renowned for holding regular protests, including a weekly march led by the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo, which we happened to witness.

From our tour guide, we learned that the Mothers march in response to a terrible incident that took place during the late 70s. At that time, the government was under a military dictatorship, and an estimated 30,000! people who had in some way expressed opposition toward the regime "disappeared." The mothers of the men and women who went missing formed an organization, and they continue to hold weekly marches around the Plaza as a means to spread awareness and demand answers about this disturbing tragedy.

After we left the main square, our group took off for a part of the city called La Boca. This is a poor yet eccentric neighborhood that is home to many colorful buildings as well as a famous soccer stadium. We stayed in the touristy section while there and had a chance to walk through the outdoor markets. We spent about an hour in this section before going back to the hotel to prepare for the evening ahead. 

At night, our tour group headed to a tango show. I have to admit I was apprehensive about this experience because I expected a kitschy tourist trap that would be a waste of money and a missed opportunity to watch the Steelers play the Ravens. I wrote it off as a "when in Buenos Aires..." And went along for the ride. 

Three hours later, I was smiling wide from what turned out to be a great evening. Our night began with an hour long tango lesson with an extremely engaging instructor. Dan and I had several opportunities to try our hand at Latin dancing, though due to the ratio of guys to girls, I was not his only partner. I made sure to keep a causal eye on his counterparts as he danced his way through each sequence of the class. At one point, he was called to demonstrate his skills in front of the class, and had to select a stranger to dance with in order to model (successfully!) what they had learned.

After the lesson, we had a surprisingly tasty three-course dinner accompanied by all the wine we could drink and an impressive tango show. All-in-all, I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed the evening and utterly stunned by how cheap the evening was (round-trip transport, tango lesson, food, drinks, and tango show for the equivalent of $38). I was also happy I did not forgo the experience to watch a disappointing Steelers loss.

Day 27: Colonia, Uruguay

On Wednesday morning, we took a bus out of Montevideo to travel to Colonia, Uruguay. Colonia has long been an important gateway to Buenos Aires, and has both Spanish and Portuguese influences as a result of their attempts to gain control of its port. Because of its small buildings and narrow, brick streets, the only way to describe this town is charming.

We were fortunate to be in Colonia on a beautiful, clear day, and rented a golf cart to traverse around town on wheels. Dan was as happy as a little boy on his golf cart, and came up with various destinations for us--including a lighthouse, the oceanfront, and a park--so he could drive around for as long as possible. The weather turned chilly early, so I retreated back to our pousada while Dan continued to ride around Colonia and ended up on the beach for sunset.

We went to a casual dinner (by foot) at night, and as we walked, were amazed by how few people were around; it seemed like we were in a ghost town. Four of us then went back to our pousada to get the golf cart and do some late night cruising. We first passed a nearby casino, and decided to stop inside. There, we discovered where the entire population of Colonia was hiding. The casino was small, but I have never seen a place so packed. For every person sitting at a slot machine, there was someone else queuing up nearby. And the main lure of the casino was undoubtedly bingo. Every single person in the building--from teens to eldery individuals--was clinging on to paper slips that served as their bingo cards. It was a bizarre sight, and one that left us pondering what life is like for Colonia locals.

After that experience, we decided to ride to one of the docks in the old part of town. There, we saw a crumbling wall with a drawbridge that must have once served as a barrier to outsiders. We climbed up the wall and sat down to look out at the stars and the sea. While taking in our surroundings, we noticed that the horizon was glowing a faint yellow, and realized that we were staring out at Buenos Aires. We soaked in the sights for a little longer, and then rode back in the golf cart to get some sleep before the final leg of our tour.

Days 25-26: Montevideo, Uruguay

After our weekend homestay on the estancia, our tour group took a bus to Montevideo, the capital of Uruguay. For some reason, I had many preconceived notions about Uruguay and it's appearance, so I was surprised by how modern and clean the city looked. After arriving at the capital's bus terminal, we headed to our upgraded hotel accommodation. In the room, we happily took note of the plush bedsheets, thick towels and absent toilet paper waste basket (this had been a staple of bathrooms in Brazil, where it is frowned upon to dispose of used paper in the toilet). 

Once settled, Dan and I took off for the nearest hospital where he was to get his third rabies shot. There, the inefficiencies of socialized healthcare presented themselves, as we were misdirected around  several different buildings by people who didn't know--and didn't even take the time to figure out--where vaccines were administered. Once we had had enough of our wild goose chase, we finally insisted that one of the receptionists make a call to help us figure out where to go. The receptionist finally informed us of the correct location, and then--after asking him to make an additional call about the office hours--told us we would have to return the following day for the vaccination. We reluctantly retreated back to our hotel to relax before dinner.

At night, Dan and I decided to venture off on our own to check out a restaurant that had been recommended in our guide book. Considering we were in Uruguay's largest city, we were surprised by how quiet our walk was from the hotel to the tiny dining spot. The husband and wife owners were very friendly and served great food. I had a chicken and vegetable wok dish, Dan had a massive plate of a Uruguayan cut of steak (think ribs, but cut in the opposite direction so it is flat with numerous bone discs lining the top of the meat), and we split some homemade ravioli. Per usual, Dan had to do most of the heavy lifting, so he aided me in my portion after he had licked his own plate clean. We spoke a bit to the owners throughout our meal, and when done eating, we asked the wife if she knew the restaurant was featured in a travel guide. She was completely unaware, and excitedly asked us to send her a photo of the write-up when we had the chance. We happily agreed, and left the restaurant in a contented state.

The next morning we woke up to the sound of pouring rain. Dan had to get out of bed early to go (this time with our tour director) back to the hospital to get his vaccine. He was wet and tired when he got back, and we were both fine with lounging around until midday. At that point, we went to meet up with our tour group who was having lunch in a building called Puerto del Mercado. Inside the chilled warehouse, there were various restaurants all serving slightly different versions of the same barbecue-based menu. The environment was cool, but I was not in the mood for a massive lunch. So after chatting with our friends for a bit, we decided to wander around the nearby area for another option. 

Puerto del Mercado

We walked for a little through the brick-paved streets of the city's old quarter, but the area seemed very quiet and empty. As we were about to turn back to the mercado, Dan and I noticed a small restaurant that was set a little back from the road and the adjacent buildings. While looking at the entrance, the owner opened the door and encouraged us to come in to check out their fare. We obliged, and stepped into a homey space with only a few tables and a short chalkboard menu. We sat down near the open kitchen, where a lone chef was happily whipping up his daily-changing creations. We instantly knew we had made the right choice, and were able to watch the chef's labor of love as he made everything to order, including the pasta. After the tasty meal, we met two of our friends at a cute coffee shop (also recommended by our ever-faithful guidebook), where we sipped down our first cups of strong, quality South American coffee.

At night, we all went out to dinner at a place our tour director boasted to have the best (and largest) angus steak in Montevideo. Dan agreed to split the steak and sides with me, but I felt bad when they brought the meat out because I knew he could have easily downed an even larger cut on his own. From that experience, and amassing pieces of evidence, we decided we will not take any more of our tour guide's advice. We determined he had been steering us to locations because of their pre-established relationships with the tour company, not because they were actually as good as our guide made them out to be. We were also noticing that many of our best experiences had come through spontaneity rather than extensive planning. So while it has been nice to be on a tour without the worries of transportation, accommodations and the like, it is also really nice to figure those things out on our own (even when they come with mistakes). 

Even though (or maybe, because) we didn't do much of consequence during our short stay in Montevideo, we really enjoyed ourselves. And to Dan's delight, the highlights of our trip to the capital undoubtedly revolved around food.