The Uru-guy

As you may know, I got to spend a week on my own in Uruguay before John followed on. Travelling solo was a refreshing challenge, not least while trying to use my long-forgotten O-level Spanish (The exam wasn't my finest hour - I got an' E', before you ask.) And having hastily devoured a pocket Spanish phrasebook on the flight over, it turned out that much of the vocabulary is South America is very different from elsewhere anyway. But as I should have guessed, a little effort, a bit of kindness and a big smile can get you a long way - and help you make some new friends.

Uruguay is a small country squashed between two South American giants,
Brazil and Argentina, so a visit to the local museum provided a good briefing,
as well as a fun photo. 

Despite it's passionate neighbours, the country has its own sedate character,
and nowhere was that more evident than in the sleepy seaside town of
Colonia del Sacremento. It's a wonderful place to relax and unwind...

... and it's steeped in history. In the old town, little has changed in 200 years..

... and I was certainly there 'out-of-season'.
A few classic cars sat idly around many of the deserted cobbled streets...

... and no-one was going anywhere...

(well, almost no-one)

... so there wasn't much to do but sit and contemplate.

Even the town's art museum attracts a different sort of motorist.

Staying at a local hostel, I was lucky enough to make friends with Jocelyne
(a fun and lively psychologist from France) and Nicola (a kindly teacher from Germany).
Although we all spoke five languages between us, we didn't actually one in common.
So as you can imagine, our conversations involved much gesticulation,
poor pronunciation and comical mistranslation.

The next stop was was capital city Montevideo...

... which on many a street corner has a reminder of times gone by.

Since Jocelyne was still in tow, we both decided to share
a roof-top hostel room with great views...

... and there we hooked up with new Portugese friend Rita
who, frankly, was even madder than Jocelyne. 

And although our hostel was in a pretty rough area of town, the night we arrived
there was a political rally outside about women's rights, gay marriage, and a
range of other issues which I unfortunately couldn't quite decipher.
But after all the solemn speeches...

... everyone had a chance to join in with some singing and dancing...

 ... and as the singing and merriment continued long into the night, I decided
it was definitely the most fun and colourful protest I've ever been to.

 But it was time to move on, and when Jocelyne and I had to part company,
we were both sad to say goodbye. It had been a very interesting week - testing
but great fun, and another reminder of what travelling is about.

Henry