There is nothing more beautiful than walking aimlessly on a wonderful spring day, here, there or anywhere. Luckily, unlike last year, the weather in Montevideo has been amazing this spring, so far, showing us incredibly sunny and warm days starting early September (think of it as early March if you live in the Northern Hemisphere).
Since last Tuesday—after a busy Monday at my old office, I realized that I work better in my time when there is noone around, rather than “do less work in more time all day long” habit that most offices create unintentionally I decided not to work one day a week during the week—I called the hot restaurant owner and he invited me to have lunch at Plaza Cagancha, in the Old City.
Unfortunately, there is not one really good restaurant there, I wished his little restaurant’s usual menu could be our oferta del dia (the daily special) but our only option was eating at La Passiva –this little restaurant is a Montevidean classic, famous for its chivito (a steak sandwich similar to any steak sandwich in the world but don’t say that to Uruguayans, you may offend them) and cold litre-beer on the side. Which self-employed bon vivant say no to this offer? I certainly could not resist!
I left the Cupula (my home-office, a.k.a lo de la turka—turkish girl’s crib—dressed in bermudas and my favorite black boots, with a t-shirt. Days like this are perfect to walk through Centro (where I live) towards the old town. It was around 11 in the morning, so strolling through the enormous Palacio Legislativo (it’s the parliament building, which is definetely out of proportion with the city’s size and country’s total population) listening to Shantel and Buconiva Orkestar who made it impossible for me not to dance a little bit while walking, knowing people might think I am a bit off because Montevideans in general are very quiet people, they don’t dance on the streets. Yet, I was so happy I can’t help moving. Spring in Montevideo gives me that feeling. Springtime anywhere gives me a natural high and a neverending smile, but this day was particularly nice.
The threes that decorate the plaza around the Palacio started to re-leaf slowly, sky was blue instead of grey, telling us those cold and humid winter days were over. People who worked in the parliament were sitting on the steps smoking, dringking mate and enjoying the heat. There were more people on the streets than a day ago! Even waking up earlier that day, with the sunlight hitting my face did not piss me off. I could even stay home all day—as I often do—and watch the day go by from the Cupula until the sun sets inside my little apartment leaving everything inside dark orange!
Walking from point A (my house) to B (anywhere) by means of my feet is something I look in the cities I pick to live. Every time I go back to Istanbul, I curse the big fire of 1920’s, which took our family house in the old city. Since then we have been living in our once-summer house on the Asian Side and unfortunately in that suburban area, one has to get into some kind of transportation in order to get to somewhere, walking is not an option! So boring.
Maybe one of the reason’s why I left Istanbul ten years ago was my urge to live in a walking city. Montevideo is a walking city, especially on nice days. Walking there can be very entertaining, and everybody walks. I turned my back on the parliament and climbed the Libertador Boulevard, a hefty walk up a 40 degree angle, thanking my earlier decision on wearing the boots with no heels.
When the Boulevard meet Galicia Street, ten blocks uphill, I looked back and remembered my first day there. It was the day Tabare Vazquez spoke to Uruguayans from the Dorian stairs of that huge building. March 1st 2005, the day I moved here, I was lucky enough to see a President taking power in front of the majority of its people. Probably half of Uruguay was packed in the streets that open to the plaza and to the Palace listening to their long-awaited President. Today he is about to sign a trade agreement with the US and told women of Uruguay that he would veto the law that will approve abortion if they bring it to discussion. Que cagada! (shit happens). It was such a nice day that I did not make a big deal, kept walking.
I reached 18 de Julio Avenue soon after and met with working Montevideans at their lunch hour. One may assume Montevideo is a small and quiet city but has a commercial zone that between the hours of 9 am to 5 pm you can spot some action. With the rest of the crowd I soon reached my destination, Plaza Matriz, the old town square of the city once surrounded by walls. Artisans took their places on the side walks circling the plaza where as the diagonal walk way inside the plaza were invaded by the antique sellers who are negotiating with –mostly—tourists who are amazed with the prices and oldness of the stuff they see in these tables covered with 20th century memorabilia—European and some contemporary American articles can be found here, and prices are amazingly cheap for foreigners.
As an antique junkie I wandered among them and saw a 1950’s egg beater that I was hoping to find for sometime now (another trait I created while living in South America, patience and not rushing into anything, not even home décor!) and there it was! The nice seller lady told me that it was $100 pesos (Uruguay). I am far from cashing big checks from the North but $4 dollars as I calculated the cost of the beater, was acceptable but I was eager to go meet my date, so I told her I will be back later.
I approached a table at La Passiva as four yuppies left and almost as I was jumping from the boat to the port in Istanbul I landed on it, leaving a group of people hanging there aimlessly behind! There was a lot of demand for a table under the burning southern cone sun.
Situated myself towards the sun like a tournesol and hoped my lunch date would not take forever to get here—30 minutes is considered fashionably late and almost everybody does it—because I was unfashionable early due to the fact that I could not calculate how long the walk would have taken from the Cupula to the Plaza without rushing and missing on sightseeing! I started reading the book that I got him from New York, an illustrated version of the Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, assuming he would treasure and enjoy it as much as I would have done. He has given me a couple of thoughtful gifts, right on the dot and I only hoped my gift would do the same effect (in retrospective giving books to a dislexic person was not a great idea!)
My slow waitress (usually all of them are because they don’t work for tips) came only once, 15 minutes into my sitting down, threw me a menu and left even before I tried to tell her that I was waiting for someone. It felt great waiting for someone because it was such a beautiful day I had to share it with someone else. And as a caballero he even send me a text message warning me of his delay. And he arrived soon after.
We caught the waitress's attention and ordered two chopps (half a liter of beer) , and he ordered a chivito for me, assuming that is what I would want. I like them but when one is eating chivito one is not as attractive as they rather be, so eating it became impossible after cutting little pieces with my fork and knife, and maybe because I was already full when it came given that we had three chopps I had to leave most of it on my plate. I was inspired by this montevidean who was so happy to be back to his hometown after years of living outside, and was filling me with information, its corkiest corners, I was moved. We only stopped talking for a moment when a young street kid came and asked for the left over chivito, which we happily packed and gave it to him.
Two long hours and some more chopps later I asked if he could take me to this famous Montevideo landmark, Café Brasilero, to get a shot of real espresso before doing some work at the rest of the day. He happily accepted and we walked two blocks south of the plaza and entered this cozy café inaugurated in 1877. Its coffee was not too good, or maybe we have not chosen wisely and greedily asked for a double which unfortunately these days of post-crisis means one shot of coffee plus water to make it double. He recognized our error and proposed grappa! The boy was getting me drunk before 4 pm. I never considered myself a cognac lover but I have to accept: last winter I drank grappa miel (grappa mixed with honey) while freezing my tootsies at home, and it worked! The hot owner of the restaurant said, he prefers grappa, straight up, and I wanted to try it too but they did not have it. I settled for the honeyed version, I don’t remember what he had, at that point we were both very buzzed, with everything.
As the sun lost its heat, announcing time to split up, we took a bus in front of Teatro Solis (Solis Theater), another splendid building—every time I pass by, I make up fantasies about secret illuminati gals meeting in one of its basement. The old bus floated on 18 de Julio all the way back to the Centro, where I left him, with butterflies in my stomach and a tiny kiss that warmed my lips and heart.
I have a feeling Montevideo part III is going to be a good one!
PS: Beginning my week with such Tuesday, was only followed by similarly fun events with other Montevideans.
-Wednesday: dinner with friends
-Thursday: dinner with friends—and outing in the city from Thursday night on!
-Friday: a well prepared report about Uruguay and US for the CNN
-Saturday morning:cruising our neighborhood’s fresh fruit and vegetable market
-Saturday afternoon:lunch (pork with apple sauce on the side, mmm yummy!)
-Saturday night: dinner then another dinner and a movie with friends
-Sunday: walking around the antique flea market with friends all morning, with my mate, lunch, and more city tour before coming home to write.
