Colonia, is a pictureque small town in Uruguay, which is a short distance from Buenos Aires. It is very popular with both tourists from Argentina and overseas, predominantly for itīs old town (early 1900s feel).
As soon as we arrived we got some lunch in
. I had a cardiac arrest on a plate. The local favourite there is īChivitasī. This consists of steak, topped with bacon, ham, melted cheese and topped with a fried egg, with chips and (token) salad on the side. Given that I was hung over, this did the trick, and I could feel my salt and fat levels rising, and my arteries hardening, whilst eating it. It was expensive, probably because it was a tourist town and also because Argentina is cheaper in general. This was NOT
the worst meal of my life.
We then bumped into Ana, a swedish air hostess, from New York who is also frequents the same school. We proceded to see a few of the sights. We went up a lighthouse, went to a few museums, spent 5 minutes exploring the whole of the aquarium, then went for a sleep on the beach, where I was rudely awakened by a strange dog licking my face. Also, when Martina woke up she was totally confused as to where she was and also lost the ability to speak english for a few minuted.
We had 8 hours in Colonia, probably needed 3.
Which leads me nicely onto the worst meal of my life. We went to this nice looking restaurant which had a nice family feel to it. We sat in the courtyard. There were no people eating there (why didnīt the alarm bells go off?). We decided on the menu of the day, which consisted of a meal, a dessert, a glass of wine and some coffee. Karen and I ordered the spaghetti, Ana the salad, and Martina the Pizza.
Pretty soon the general flow of the meal was going to be determined
. The pasta turned out to be a plate of cold pasta with tonnes of cheese grated over it....no sauce, nothing (and no option of any sauce), the pizza was equally laughable. There were 3 slices missing which they tried to hide by rearranging the slices. I decided (stupidly) to order some chorizo to go with it - here the chorizo is a massive sausage cooked on the parilla (the grill). How could they go wrong with this? Well, even with 7 people working there, and no customers they proceded to f*ck it up. When I bit into it, it was freezing in the middle. I told the waitress and soon after, I could hear the whiring of the microwave. Soon after the īpingī, my chorizo was returned to me, complete with freshly microwaved tomato slices. Not wanting to die, I gave the chorizo to the a cat that was prowling around. Not even the cat would eat it!!!! They even managed to f*ck up the coffee by providing about a teaspoon of water. To bring a perfect end to a far from perfect meal, my chair broke and I fell to the floor (well I have been eating a lot of steak). We all pissed ourselves.
Even Tomasīs cooking back at my appartment is amazing in comparison. And itīs generally student fodder.
Got back home at midnight, to find there was a new person staying at the appartment. A girl from Brazil, called Maria. She seems like a good laugh, and speaks very good spanish...who knows I may even get to speak some spanish in the appartment. We see.
Thatīs enough for now. Over and out
Jeez, I wished I hadnīt gone so over the top with the beer and vodka and red bulls yesterday. After one hourīs sleep, I was at the ferry port waiting for some folk from school (Karen from Canada, Sara and Martina from Switzerland). Karen and Martina showed, but Sara did not. She was gutted because it was one of her last days before returning to Switzerland and sheīd been up till 7 partying with Martina. Martina had a host family to wake her up, Sara unfortunately slept in till 12 and missed the (quite expensive) ferry.