Driving in Uruguay, the South Atlantic shows off, I covet a spoon, and we encounter the intersection of death

The Hampton Inn in Montevideo Uruguay puts on a top notch free breakfast, besting every counterpart in the United States. I had jellied sweet potato and quince (sounds gross, tastes great), pastries with cream and dulce de leche, delectable fruit salad, and scrambled eggs that actually tasted good. Bravo Hampton Inn, bravo. The plan for the day was to drive up the coast to visit some beach towns and a unique Unesco World Heritage site. We started, however, sucking at shopping.

In a new country it’s necessary to learn how to complete ordinary tasks in new ways. Lots of learning happens in short order. The sisters shopped for some lunchy food and a first aid kit at a place called Tata, and we had success (except for finding a first aid kit. Okay here’s the deal with the elusive kit. If you get pulled over while driving in Uruguay and there is no first aid kit in your car, you are fined. So you’d think they’d make them easy to find but they do not. We tried three different places before calling it quits. When we are pulled over, we will just declare that safety is not ours or their priority). Errors were made in how to price fruit, how to use the automatic check out, how to pay for bags, and then at a separate store, how to stow said bag while shopping (there are lockers you must use with a QR code key function - pretty cool actually). After today, we can shop like a Uruguayan, that’s for sure. Nailed it.

Shopping fails complete, we drove up the coast, with our first stop at Atlantida, Canelones, a beachy little town with an endless view of the south Atlantic. Today was WINDY, which was a relentless presence all day. It was in some ways very cool though, with lots of huge waves creating a scenic and lively background for photos. In Atlantida, When parking in Atlantida, Jenny pointed out that all the parked cars actually had occupants, which was weird. Why is everyone staying in their cars? A pair next to us started to make out, so maybe we discovered some kind of Uruguayan lovers’ lane. Who knows. We did know that the vibe was kinda weird so our visit was relatively short, what with feeling uncomfortable being the only ones not sitting in our parked car. Wind and ocean pictures were taken, strange bugs were noted, new birds were spotted, and then we skedaddled to our next stop, Iglesia de Cristo Obrero, or the curvy church as I like to call it. 

Old curvy is a UNESCO World Heritage site. It was closed but the outside of the place was enough of a treat to merit the pilgrimage. The church walls are curved to give the thin brick structure greater strength and stability, according to UNESCO herself (I picture a personified UNESCO as a feminine force. In fact, I may name my next kid Unesco - rolls off the tongue). We found a small shrine in the back of the property, which was the perfect place to plan next steps. 

The next stop on our trip was Playa del Flores in Maldonado, a brilliant rocky, roaring beach that was practically deserted. As we sat on the rocks, we listened to the blast of the waves crashing and then sucking rocks back into the ocean, which kinda sounded like the roar of a crowd. The beach reminded me of the north shore in Minnesota, only with double the wave action and triple the wind. We ate our snack in the car afterwards. Hummus in a jar, thin tortilla chips, green olives in a pouch, fruit, and rice pudding were on the menu. At Tata, we realized we neglected to bring utensils, so we purchased a set of three spoons. Why were they sold as a three pack, I wondered? I mean, one spoon at a time makes sense, or maybe four, but three? I was thankful for my spoon, though, and decided I’d not go spoonless again on this trip. After polishing off my rice pudding, I holstered my beloved spoon in my sock, ready for next time.

Our last stop turned into more of an escape than a pleasure trip. Jen has been fantastic driving in Uruguay, dealing with very strange road antics and temperamental navigation equipment. Apparently the police here are very strict about traffic laws, and any deviation above the speed limit can be expensive. In an incredible irony, the locals do not care one little bit. It’s a free for all on the roads (and in parking lots - Uruguayans just park wherever they stop, no order, no thought as to how their car may impede the flow of traffic). So when our trip up to a famous view of the ocean called Cerro San Antonio became an uphill traffic jam, we just shrugged. By then, we’d seen enough road crazy to expect anything. (Earlier, at a random intersection, a circus came to town during a red light. Jugglers on stilts entertained the crowd while a tight rope was strung across traffic and other jugglers balanced to wow (or anger?) the commuters. As soon as the light turned green, the circus disassembled before our eyes, and our entertainment collected money from car to car.) We inched uphill in our manual clutch vehicle, searching for old Antonio for at least a half hour, without any way to turn around the small winding road. A runner we had passed much earlier jogged past us. She made it to the top before we did and was on her way back down as we continued the climb. By the time we reached the famous view, neither of us cared anymore. Only escape mattered.

At last we made our way back to the highway for our quick zip back down the coast, or so we thought. Instead we encountered another whopper of a traffic jam which added an additional hour to our commute to home base. One major factor in the jam, we learned, was a protest in the street about the Intersection of Death. Protesters held signs accusing the intersection of murder. They chanted and encouraged horn honking. Kinda felt a bit like home right now… We don’t know why that particular intersection was targeted, but the protesters were effective, handing out flyers to all of the stopped cars. I hope their protests will have the results they are hoping for. 

Back at the hotel, we ate in the restaurant and had more really excellent food. We also had a visit from Rhonda, a missionary from Arkansas who has lived in Uruguay for almost 20 years. She gave us trip pointers (and point awayers - warning us of areas to avoid in Montevideo). We ate most of our dinner with her standing at our table telling us her stories. We’ve learned so much today, about how to shop, how to drive, what and where to avoid, and what is protested in Uruguay. We are smarter than ever.