I slept very little last night. I was either sweating under the sheets or shivering when I went to the toilet. A french couple came into the room about 4-5am and between them making noise and then snoring I couldn´t sleep. Bloody French. They always find a way to annoy you. I was really annoyed getting up.
I made a good deal of noise as I got up. Just to say Bon Jour. I went out in to the town and bought some breakfast and ate it on a bech in a plaza in the centre of town. It was a lovely morning. A lot of the locals come here to watch the world go by as I did for a while that morning.
One of the curious traits here in Uruguay as in B.A. is the custom of drinking Mate, a herbal tea. I saw some people with it in B.A. but it is much more noticeable her in Colonia. The Mate drinker has a cup with no handle. The herbal mixture is then placed in the cup, almost filling it. It is then topped with hot water and the tea is sipped through a metal stem. A flask is used to refill the cup with hot water. The first tims I saw somebody sipping mate I thought the person was smoking an elaborate pipe. People drink Mate everywhere. In the plazas, strolling along the street with the flask, like a newspaper tucked under arm, and driving buses.
In the afternoon I went to a local beach which involved a short walk along a narrow trail through some woodland. While I was lying on the beach an insect bit my right foot. The bite gave me a jolt and when I looked at my foot I could see it was still there. I reacted immediately before it tried to bite me again. I pulled up my right foot so I could hit the insect away with my left hand but instead of swiping the insect away I managed to punch myself in the nose. I hit myself so hard I broke the skin and blood began to seep out. It was a right cracking shot because I dazed myself. The insect was shooed away at the secon attempt. I´m gald nobody saw me because they´d have had a right laugh at the skinny white gringo punching himself in the face!! My battered nose did however draw some looks as the day progressed.
In the evening, after watching some of the Celtic V Man U Champions league match and hearing that Barack Obama had won the Presidential election I went back down to the seafront to see if the sunset could match last nights display. Tonight it was even better! There was more cloud in the sky which obscured the sun as it slipped down. Then just as it sat on the horizon, just before it dropped into a brilliant red haze the tallest tower blocks of B.A. appeared in Silhouette. When the sun disappeared below the horizon the clouds became a blaze of colour, oranges and deep, deep reds. Spectacular.
Afterwards I strolled over to a Parillada to eat. This was a local corner bar that serve grilled meats. It was very simple, very plain. A formica bar counter, pealing slightly at the edges, propped up 5 or 6 locals all of whom sipped whiskey. Two were eating. Behind the bar, the owner a portly, balding man in his 60,s entertained chatting away with the clientele. Along the length of the front wall, set under the open windows were 5/6 small tables large enough for 2 people to eat at. Between the tables and the bar there was enough room for one person to walk past.
Behind the bar rows of spirits and dusty wine bottles were stacked in tiers. To one side was a fridge in which the barman kept fresh meat. Over in the corner was an open flame grill onto which the owner/barman slapped steaks, sausages and black puddings as he chatted amiably. This was no tourist haunt and I wondered if I,d get a look of "Oh no, another bloody gringo" as I entered but no the lads didn{t pass any heed of me and the owner was polite and friendly as I ordered some food and a 3/4 litre of Pilsen, a local Uruguayan brew.
Behind the bar were various posters . One was of the Uruguayan national team at the 1990 world cup. Others showed footballers of the 50,s and 60,s. There were a few photos of the owner over the years with various people. Flies buzzed around the two roof lights that lit room.
By the time my food arrived 2-3 more locals had entered and ordered food. The owner who was being kept busy now shuffled around the bar rather than walked. Perspiration trickled down his forehead as he delivered my food, steak and home cut chips. I got stuck in. On one of his shuffles around the bar the owner enquired if the meal was ok by raising his eyebrows, smiling and saying "Ehh Amigo?" I nodded and smiled back saying "Bueno, muy bueno".
The TV was turned on and all heads turned to the small black and white screen, mounted high on the end wall, to watch the lotto draw. On went pairs of spectacles as the numbers were called out and some intense checking and ticking of dockets followed but nobody won the jackpot tonight.
I finished my meal, paid up and left, thanking the host at the bar. He nodded but was busy in conversation with one of the old lads sipping whiskey. I went up to the Plaza on Avenida Flores for a while to let the dinner settle and watch the evening Paseo. The Mate drinkers were out in force, strolling up and down. Lots of youngsters on mopeds and small motorbikes zipped up and down the mains street, sometimes three to a bike. Some passenger cradled infants in their arms. Some golf buggies passed by with exuberant passengers!!
People stopped at the plaza to chat or to call over to say hello to acquaintences sitting on the benches. It was all very laid back, very relaxed. Tomorrow I head for Montevideo on a morning bus. As it was approaching midnight I strolled back to the hostel hoping I sleep tonight. There are 5 in the dorm tonight. Myself, three Italians and a Uruguyan so its going to be warm.
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