Some people might wonder why we chose to visit Uruguay. It was a backup plan; we’d wanted to go to Colombia, but the national park we most wanted to see would be closed for the entire month of February. We didn’t have a ton of time built into this part of the schedule, so we needed a small country. We’d been to Uruguay for one day in 2012 and enjoyed the vibe. It is gaining a reputation as an world tourist attraction (The Lonely Planet listed it as a top destination this year) for its beautiful beaches and delicious red wine. Thus, Uruguay it was!
We weren’t sure what to expect from Montevideo. We’d read that it was a nice small capital city with good food, great music, and a European vibe. On the other hand, since it is known more for its culture than its sightseeing attractions, it isn’t the easiest city to decode. We had a little over 48 hours after arriving at 6:00 AM after basically a 24-hour travel day! It was the first weekend of Carnaval (they spell it differently than we would), though, so we were hopeful of seeing some drums and dancing.
Sunday is not the best day to stay in the old city (Ciudad Viejo) because most businesses and restaurants are closed so that people can be with their families. The little hotel we found was an absolute gem, but the owner couldn’t meet up to let us in so early in the morning. So, we walked around the ghost town streets and down to the Rio de la Plata, and then we sat on a bench near the hotel. The place is small, brand new, and doesn’t even have a sign outside, so I doubt neighbors even know it’s there. Anyway, we only sat a few minutes before a concerned old lady called down to the vagrants below her window to tell us there were plenty of hostels nine blocks away! We had mixed results in convincing her we were in the right spot (Uruguayan Spanish is next level); luckily our dude showed up a little early, let us in, and told us where we could get a pretty damn good breakfast in a neighborhood of closed metal gates.
This might sound like a rough start, but we had a plan to keep the day from being wasted. After a short nap and some lunch, we did what the locals do on Sunday: take a stroll on the riverside Rambla and visit the pleasant Parque Rodo. The Rambla is a boardwalk along the river that runs the length of the city (13.7 miles); however, it looks more like you are walking alongside the ocean! We walked about 2.5 miles away from our neighborhood, joining tons of Uruguayan bikers, fishermen, runners, and other strolling couples. Kids seemed to favor rollerblading, and I think Sarah wanted to join them. Pretty much anywhere you look, you could find someone with a thermos under their arm and a tall, metal mug and straw in the other…mate herbal tea is a way of life in Uruguay.
Parque Rodo is a large green park around a lake, as well as the surrounding area that includes a public beach and small amusement park. There were a ton of families spending quality time and also some cool statues of a random combination of influencers…not sure Confucius was ever in Montevideo! Usually on Sundays, groups of traditional drummers and Samba dancers practice in the park, but we didn’t see any that day; since it was actually Carnaval, they probably had real gigs coming instead. The giant opening parade was supposed to have been the previous night but was postponed a week due to rain forecast.
Sometimes, I guess you have to make your own fun. Luckily, The Montevideo Wine Experience was open and only a few blocks from our place. They feature solely Uruguayan wines, so it was our introductory session before hitting wine country later in the week. The national grape is tannat. Originally a French grape, it is bold and full of tannins…a perfect compliment to Uruguayan beef. We shared a flight that included other varietals, but the tannat was most interesting and the best of the bunch. Interestingly, most of the nation’s wine is produced right outside the capital, but that is simply because the Spanish needed to stay close to the city in order to retain power. It had nothing to do with the best soil! While we sipped, an old-timer came in with his guitar and sat with his buddies at the next table over; together they sang a couple of gaucho songs. A perfect early evening for two tired travelers!
Monday morning brought a much more bustling Ciudad Viejo, which was all right with us. Most of the stores are actually very nice when they raise their metal doors, and much of the neighborhood is pedestrian-friendly. We’d heard the colonial architecture there was cool, especially on upper floors. That stuff was present but often a work in progress. For every charming, curvy balcony façade, there were two more unfinished ones for sale and in need of whitewash, repair, or paint. It reminded us of our day in Slovakia—architecture with good bones but lacking TLC.
Top on our list for the day was the Andes 1972 Museum dedicated to the Uruguayan rugby team and other passengers whose plane crashed in the Chilean mountains. If you’ve read the book or seen the movie Alive, then you know this story. Of the 45 passengers, 28 survived the initial crash but faced starvation, infection, freezing temperatures, and even a deadly avalanche. For 72 days, they did everything they could to survive. The ordeal ended when two of the boys climbed through the mountains for 13 days and found their way into a valley. They encountered a gaucho who rode several hours on a horse and then a car for help (he died at the age of 91 the day after we visited the museum). All 16 survivors were rescued over the next two days. The infamous story was the group’s impossible decision to depend on cannibalism, but the museum humanizes the people aboard that plane.
The proprietor of the museum is best friends with one of the climbers and wanted to make sure their story is not lost as they age. He added personal details to the fine displays and relics in the museum. He also offered a touching story on the perspective his friend gained in surviving. Up in the mountains, the survivors sometimes burned their spending money trying to thaw out their fingers. When the proprietor’s family was struggling during a major recession twenty years ago, Robert (the survivor) insisted on offering help despite his own probable struggles. The proprietor tried to refuse, knowing that Robert must need the money as well, but Robert replied, “You forget that I am one of the few people in the world that knows first-hand that $1.00 and $100 bills burn at the same rate, my friend.â€
The museum was small, but it was so fascinating that we spent hours there and were overdo for lunch. Luckily, one of Montevideo’s main attractions is also its tastiest. The port market is a bunch of small parillas (asado restaurants). Many of you are familiar with Argentine beef, and Uruguayan beef is just as good. We scored seats right in front of the wood-fire grill at the best one and dined on mouth-watering baby beef (rib-eye) and tender lomo (filet mignon), both accompanied by chimichurri sauce and washed down with delicious tannat. It was also a great show; waiters whisked along the narrow aisle between the bar and the grill, while the grillmaster tended to the meats—chorizo, blood sausage, chicken cutlets, ribs, and at least four cuts of steak—and moved the coals around to adjust the heat. Yeah, baby!
I think we expected Carnaval shows to be everywhere we looked, but that wasn’t the case. We did run across impromptu street shows that can be seen all year long, but the actual Carnaval mostly takes place on stages around town, and they don’t start until late at night. Like I said, we didn’t really have time to get the hang of Montevideo, and it seemed doubtful we’d see a show.
We did the next best thing and popped into the small Carnaval Museum. They had a bunch of traditional masks and costumes, a stage, and videos from last year’s festival. Some of the shows are tablados, which are mostly drumming processions honoring the influence slaves had in creating a Uruguayan identity. Others are called murgas; they are satirical musical comedies that focus on current Uruguayan events (the only show we could get to that evening was a murga, which seemed skippable). The revista is the dance most familiar to Americans who hear the word Carnaval. The museum wasn’t the real deal, but at least it gave us a taste of Montevideo’s soul.
Montevideo wasn’t a carnival for us, but it was a pleasant city to visit, and we had great food. If you know us, then you know we aren’t city people anyway. Bring on the wine and beaches!