08 OCT - 10 OCT 2010
The Prelude
Imagine now for a moment that 8.4 million Australians lived in our wondrous capital city of Canberra, and imagine now for a moment that most of those inhabitants weren't bored out of their skulls, didn't have excessive porn collections and were as close to normal as a Canberran could possibly be...you see, you can't imagine it, because it's an impossibility. It's like trying to find the answer to one divided by zero, your calculator just goes 'beserker'.
Montevideo is Uruguays' capital. Close to 40% of the population of this little country live in this ramshackled town. This mate/chimarrão/cimarrón swilling society of 1.3 million walk the streets with thermoses at the ready, mate cups in their hands, bomba's in their mouths, caffeinated to the hilt, until the point of their eyeballs exploding, in a town that's equally as boring as Canberra. Why the hell would you deliberately strive for finding the extremes of mental alertness in this town? So, with that said, and therefore not wanting to be 'desperately biased' but of course you know that I will be , I'm going to do Montevideo a favour and take it down with a Tarantino style delivery- 'ok, so first things f*ckin' last' then.
Mr Pink
Ms Blue and Mr Pink making 'contact' in Colonia del Sacramento
There on the cobble stoned streets of Colonia sat Mr Pink, ever so casually, ever so innocently, staring off into the abyss perhaps, in a world that only he could comprehend. Ms Blue and I didn't quite comprehend the impact that Mr Pink would have on our lives but his physical presence, his obvious charm and charisma were unmistakable traits of a man in his prime. Ms Blue was taken by his rugged manliness in a New York minute.
Ever since the Uruguayan immigration episode where Lucy, the portly customs official, batted her blackened eyelashes and grunted for me to move swiftly to the ferry, Ms Blue had not been shy in letting me know that she thought that Lucy could very well be 'the one' for me. Such ferocity and passion, such a smoldering femininity, such a lust for anything with two legs that could possibly be seen to be male in those vacant, 'I've seen things' eyes - could Lucy, the Uruguayan customs official actually be the one for me? I was trying to reason with all those things in my small mind and questioned the destiny that actually brought us together when I saw Ms Blue flick her eyes up to a distinguished man sitting ever so casually in the same cafe that we had chosen for an afternoon layover.
I suggested to Ms Blue that this very man could very well be 'the one' for her and hinted that she should display her wares in a timeless, sophisticated manner that would undoubtedly undo this gentleman from his stoic pose. As Ms Blue strutted away and took up a position within striking range I analysed Mr Pink from my own covert position. Who was he really? Was he an old school Marxist terrorist? A member perhaps of the Tupamaros that was sent to make contact with like minded ideologists such as us, OR, was he a love-seeker? A man whose Uruguayan fantasy had taken him to Colonia in search of a little bit of fluff? It wasn't a question that I could answer at that moment but damn, it was a question to which I definitely needed a result on. In any case, Ms Blue with her wily charms did everything but sit on the lap of Mr Pink to absolutely no avail, not even with a hint of any sort of movement from the love below.
Ms Blue
Ms Blue in a reflective repose - on the way to Montevideo
Ms Blue missed her chance in Colonia. As Mr Pink fluttered off into the stillness of a coloured Colonia afternoon Ms Blue was left to lament an opportunity lost, and perhaps also the fact that she was now travelling nearly 3hours south for the sake of a sandwich (Oh yes, the chase for the chivito was still on). Somehow Mr White (aka, me) had convinced Ms Blue that a trip to the Uruguayan capital would be more than worthwhile and that the 'chase for the chivito' was just the icing on what was going to be a cake of unprecedented flavour and colour.
As the hours passed however Ms Blue started pressing me for more answers. What's there to do in Montevideo?, Is there really anything good there? What's the deal with Columbus day? Oh no, I was starting to wilt under the pressure of my own ignorance. How could I tactfully make the chivito the focal point of our exploration without actually saying so? The questions were mounting and time was running our for me.
The last known whereabouts
Now if you've read up until this point then please be careful with the information that I have provided directly below. These two photos are the ONLY images that I have from Montevideo, the other images that I've disturbingly carried around in my mind for months on end have all but been erased. The images that I now provide for you are the last known whereabouts of Montevideo in the streets of my mind.
Montevideo - the city that excitement forgot
Montevideo - can it get any better than this? No...no it can't
Mr White
Mr White in the hands of his 'standard' back-up plan
There were obvious problems with Montevideo. The ubiquitous drink of the town, mate, was an ever present reminder that 'we', as outsiders, were not cool enough for the place. Aside from the town being even more boring than bat shit there was this damn kitsch cultural oddity that was flagrantly being waved in our faces every step that we took. I decided at that point that we should get off the streets for a while and that I should chase down a hometown chivito in order to make my Uruguayan culinary dream a reality. Ms Blue and I pulled up a seat in a small cafe on the eastern side of the Cuidad Vieja, an old school barrio of Montevideo and settled in for what we hoped would be a satisfactory lunch.
Ms Blue had ordered a pasta with a three cheese sauce, at least that's what we thought she ordered. What turned up at our table was a globulous, goo like substance that oozed through gelatinous morsels of what looked to be rooster combs. This three cheese liquid ecstasy was obviously 'just the tonic' for Ms Blue who at that point professed her undying and ever enduring love for this town. I on the other hand finally achieved the realisation of my chivito dream, a poxy, paltry two bit meat sandwich that would have disappointed a three year old at their local parish fete had they requested the same meal. Ahh Montevideo, you'd trumped us again.
Our walk through and around Cuidad Vieja had been uninspiring, our quest for food had been a more than forgetful experience, and now the town seemed like it just wanted to mess with our sanity by offering us nothing, literally nothing. Our afternoon and evening in Montevideo had died an 'inglorious bastards' death and now on the morrow, to make matters even that much more appealing, we had to change hostels due to the fact that nearly every place in this town (...yes, read that again, nearly every place in this town) had been booked out due to the Columbus day holiday.
The Columbus day heist
The next day Ms Blue and I made our way to the other side of town in order to take up the only accommodation that we had been able to locate for these given days. Montevideo, up until this point, had not made any sort of positive impression on us up until this point ....and unfortunately it wasn't going to get any better.
We arrived at out new hostel just on noon, with confirmations in hand and with optimism in our hearts, we had actually decided at that moment in time that 'perhaps' Montevideo should be given the benefit of the doubt. As we walked in through to reception and handed in our booking confirmations the conversation went something like this;
'Ms Blue and Mr White, yes, we have your confirmation as listed, but I don't know, we have no room now' - Receptionist dude
Ms Blue - 'Oh, you have no room now, as in, you have no room for the next couple of hours?'
Receptionist Dude - 'No, it's a busy weekend and we have no room tonight!'
Mr White - 'You do know that we have a booking, how is it possible that you don't have room?'
Receptionist Dude (Insert slightly nervous and apologetic laugh)
So the way things 'rolled' after this point was this. We made it clear that 'we' as guests of Montevideo had in fact nowhere to spend the night if this establishment had 'stuffed' our booking. We recommended at this point that he make 'many' calls and hook us up with accommodation (we remained at reception whilst he made the calls).
Judging by the expressions on the man and his exasperated tone, when he came back to us with the result that 'he couldn't find anything', Ms Blue blatantly said, 'Ok, well it's your responsibility to find something, even if it means that we end up sleeping at your place'. I think for a split second the Receptionist Dude thought this was Ms Blue bluffing but realised in an instant later that her don't f**k with me face meant that he could very well be putting us up for the night. As he got on with the battle of sorting out our digs, Ms Blue and I waited around in the common room.
Sitting in the common room and looking out into the back garden I thought it was kind of surreal that a Chilean karate team was practising their moves not 10 metres from where I was, how the hell did they manage to get accommodation here? Must have been their fists of fury. As I turned around I noticed Ms Blue had jumped onto a computer and was 'netting' something or other whilst chatting with some old dude next to her. I must have sat there for something like 10-15 mins, wondering what the hell our next move was going to be and wondering where Ms Blue was going with this conversation with the elderly gentleman next to here...then it happened, I called Ms Blue over for a little chat.
Mr White: 'So Ms Blue, what's your memory like?'
Ms Blue (slightly exasperated and thinking I was just being a tool): 'What do you mean, what's my memory like? What do you want to tell me?'
Mr White: 'Well, just have a look at these photos, tell me if there's anyone you recognise from the line-up?'
Scrolling back through the Colonia photos we stopped at a cafe scene shot that I'd taken a couple of days earlier, Ms Blue started to beam.
Ms Blue: "Oh, no way'
Mr White: 'Oh yes, that man that you've been chatting to for the last 15 mins is Mr Pink, the man that you couldn't resist and one that destiny could not keep you away from'
Somehow Mr Pink had beaten us to this outpost of Montevideo and it was more than likely he and his cohorts that were going to force Ms Blue and I out onto the dog riddled streets for that evening. That devious bugger had both chased down his prey and had trumped us at the turn, obviously Mr Pink had it in his mind that he was going to 'sharing' a bed that evening! What a smooth criminal!
A few moments later Receptionist Dude walks on over and advises that he's been able to hook us up with accommodation with friends of his that resided relatively close to the hostel, but by that time Montevideo had already had our measure. Ms Blue and I decided that we were splitting back for the otherside of the river that night and the big BA was just going to have to put up with us arriving back home sooner!
The post that follows this is - Buenos Aires - The Quickening
The post that follows this is - Buenos Aires - The Quickening
