Montevideo II (basically birthday random stuff)

When the trip started  and we left Australia, we didn't plan too much. 

 Actually, we never plan much at all. I guess that's the meaning of the blog title.  It's not a way of saying: we are pretty random.

 The one thing we both wanted was to go through all the countries we could; so it was just logical that after Uruguay and before Bolivia, we would go to Paraguay.

For the geographically challenged, this is the relevant bit of map.

We were drooling over Paraguay. One of the least touristy countries in South America, full of insanely beautiful nature, jaguars, butterflies and sweet tereré-drinking people. 

Sadly for us, Paraguay had other plans. 

Too late we found out that Chey needed a visa... but he had to request it at the Consulate of Paraguay... in Australia.

So with a little bit of sadness, we changed plans and decided to visit Iguazú falls instead, crossing through Argentina (again!) to get to Bolivia. Your loss, Paraguay!

But meanwhile, there was my birthday! 

We had this no-presents arrangement, because we had enough stuff to carry already, without any extras.

Do you think my super awesome traveling mate cared? Of course he didn't, and he sneaked out to get me the last Haruki Murakami book that I had been wanting so badly, and gorgeous pink and white flowers. 

Beautiful birthday flowers,

I also got chocolate pastries from our lovely hostess.

Om nom nom.

And as if that wasn't enough, I also got dinner at the very best restaurant in the city, which was just perfect. We got the chef to suggest dishes for both of us, as well as wine, and had an amazing time pretending we were fancy people.

You know what was also perfect?
My hair.

Now this is what a "Happy meal" looks like.

There were also TWO other girl-ladies celebrating their birthdays.
Here I am with my birthday sisters.

After my birthday we said goodbye to Nathalie, her pretty apartment and Montevideo.

A sunny last day.

But before that, we said goodbye to two (or maybe I should say three) traveling "companions": my beloved backpack Stina, and Chey's old runners.

Notice the poetic shot with the Uruguayan flag
in the background. Goodbye, old friends!

And Nathalie took a polaroid of us standing in her balcony, so I took a picture of the picture because I doubt the blog will ever have such a hipster thing ever again.

Montevideo I

 It was on a bus, then, that we arrived in Buenos Aires again for just a couple of days, to sort things out and meet up with at least one friend.

 We both felt that we had done the crazy city justice (I know we did, I lived there for 11 years) in our previous visit, so we quickly got ferry tickets to cross to Buenos Aires' clean and civilised sister: Montevideo.

Before crossing by Sea-cat, at sunset

 The ferry ride was uneventful, but a welcome change after the previous two trips by bus. And we finally got to book a room with Airbnb.

We arrived late in the night to Montevideo, and easily found a bus out of the very quiet and not-creepy-at-all bus terminal. And in less than 15 minutes were at our Airbnb place.

The apartment was glorious, clean, full of light, with one of the comfiest beds we got during the trip.

And we were so excited that we got to cook! (when I say "we" I mean "I").

Comfiest bed.

 But that was just the icing on the cake. The real treat was Nathalie, our hostess. A beautiful, vibrant, dutch girl living in Montevideo with her partner. She was lovely and welcoming, left bonobones on our pillows, shared talks about traveling, and her lovely Uruguayan wine with us, and made us feel fully at home.

And she also has a travel blog!

The following couple of days we walked all around Montevideo. It's a charming little gem, and I would say a very well kept secret.

Twin of Palacio Barolo (the one in Buenos Aires) built by the same architect
with the romantic idea that the lighthouses on top would look at each other
across the splendid Río de la Plata. Ah! it's name is Palacio Salvo.

A beautiful bookstore.

Quiet little street with the old tram tracks.

Another quiet little street in the city center.

Really, I can't really understand how, but we didn't walk into ANY gringos. And I was a bit grateful, because it felt like it was properly our city to explore.

Me and the face randomness that happens every time I meet a kitty.

Gossip dog.

Street art to rival Valparaiso.

Uruguayans are the chillest of people. Friendly, trusting, and walking around with mate in hand and the thermus under the same armpit, pouring the hot water and drinking while they walk in the most profesional way. On the bus. At the beach. Walking around the city.

But it was too awkward to take a sneaky picture of a
person mateing, so here's a selection of mates instead.

We saw all of the traditions, or Uruguay's stereotypes, walking around the street.
Mate. Clean streets. Meat eating. Some sort of vintageness. And a nice, relaxed beach. Nothing like the beaches at home, but very good to relax with a good mate in the morning. Or afternoon. Or evening.

At the outdoor flea market.

Market stuff: old number plates.

Chey looking at stuff we couldn't buy because of our fat backpacks.

At the many-meat.market (not real name)

More meat cooking (we just watched, didn't try)

Random me walking away.

Chey skipping rocks, to keep the tradition alive.

Walking away Chey on the rocks.

Daytime beach, and a tan and perfect-haired version of myself
(very different than the version of me typing this)

Fishing uruguayans. 

One of my many pictures of dead things, because I have a bit of a problem.

Beach sunset and mates, of course.

And in this wonderful city I had my birthday. But that's subjet for a different post.

The end of an era

The end of hitchhiking came without us knowing it. Sneaky bastard.

That day started in a very normal way. We had breakfast with the lovely family who owned the hostel (and their lovely cats), and then we took a bus to get out of town and resume our hitching tradition.

From where the bus left us, we walked under the raging sun, dodging crazy agressive dogs and overflowing sewage treatment plants, sweating like we were melting... until we reached the highway.

The highway had very heavy traffic, and was surrounded by the dodgiest neighbourhood you can imagine.

The cars were zooming by like bullets, without even wasting a look on the side of the road where we were hopelessly standing.

The ones who were looking at us with growing interest were random guys in scooters, driving around us again and again.

After a while, it started feeling more dangerous than it was fun, so we decided to give it a miss, walk back and face the sun, dogs and sewage smells instead of the possibility of being stripped off of all our belongings while waiting for a lift that might never happen.

We ended up spending an extra random night in Mendoza the city before taking a bus towards our next destination: Uruguay.

Biking the wine road

*For the record I want to state that we didn't drink nearly as much as it seems by re-reading this post. Seriously. 

"Paso del agua negra" (pass of the black water) was the most nightmarish border crossing we had during the whole trip.

We had to take an overnight bus going across the scarily uphill Andes with two crying nazgul babies that were having a contest of "who's the loudest". And had to do the border paperwork in the middle of the night in a building with no walls where they made us wait for over two hours standing in the cold.

Anyway, once we got to Mendoza we completely forgot about that, with the excitement of being in the home of the best wine in the world (yes, Mendoza's Malbec is the best wine in the world and I'll fight anyone who dares say otherwise).

The city doesn't have too much, so we only spent one day wandering around the peaceful plazas and basically enjoying the beautiful feeling of being "on the road" again.

Giant bubbles in Mendoza's central square.

Giant pumpkins in the market.

Artisanal beer in the land of wine, because rules were made to
be broken.

Happy times.

We quickly decided that we wanted to go to the close-by town of Maipú (pronounced my-poo, which caused all sort of silly inside jokes), and rent two bikes to do the famous wine road.

 A homestay/hostel in Maipú (pause for 12 year old laughter) was found, and a city bus to get there was taken. And after dropping our bags, we went straight to get our bikes and get started.

Tripadvisor reviews of the wine road are full of contradictions and people complaining about the road being too full of trucks and not as covered in fairy dust as they were expecting.

The truth is we didn't mind the (very few, by the way) vehicles, because we were too busy enjoying the scenic ride, smelling the strong fermented grapes scent, feeling the sun and marveling at the fact that Argentina allows you to drink copious amounts of alcohol and happily ride a bike helmetless on a regular road. FREEDOM!

Freedom.

So much freedom.

As we got our first wine tasting (three different kinds of wine at a wonderful boutique "bodega", or winery), we got acquainted with the most beautiful wine I've ever had. In my life. Tasting it brought tears to my eyes and happiness to Chey's.

So we bought it.

But it wasn't an impulsive crazy moment, oh no. It was a gold medal wine that won two years in a row against 59 other countries and tasted like the tears of Jesus, for the price of a six pack of XXXX gold.

Bodega Domiciano is a "boutique winery".

The wine naps to become even more awesome.

A whole lote of happiness in bottles.

Still sober us.

Unfortunate tour company name.

Tasting white. Yum.

Tasting red. More yum.

It was a wonderful afternoon altogether, we also tasted heaps of stuff at an olive stuff place (I know that's not the fancy name, but hey, English is not my first language!) and ended the day at a beer garden.

At the olive gardens, tipsy.

A feast of olive stuff.

And since wine was not enough... spirits!

"Entre olivos"

Working ants.

Vineyards.

Arriving at the beer garden.

A sneaky beer.

Back at our hostel we shared our gold medal wine under the stars.

 It's a tough life.