Time Forgot

Every Saturday I used to look forward to the words “It’s been a quiet week in Lake Woebegone…” and now I feel like I’m living it as the days in Uruguay drift on by. 

We went to the beach yesterday, a sunny afternoon showing 55 degrees and a frigid north wind. There was a police checkpoint where they peered with curiosity at my Florida driver license and weird floppy piece of registration paper and we chatted about the weather as you do.

He pointed out it’s a damp cold which feels colder than it should and he added you haven’t seen anything yet, it’s not properly winter for a few more weeks.

Layne did some cleaning while I went out into the breeze and walked a surprisingly energetic formerly dying dog. Today he gets another vet visit and I hope clearance to travel.

It was let’s face it a cold mid week winter afternoon not ideal beach weather but Rusty trotted off down the strand with me in ambling pursuit. We had it to ourselves except for one Chilean registered camper van parked up the road.  

I was chatting with Adrián’s girlfriend Maria José and the subject of building homes came up. She was astonished to learn that in the US it is illegal most places to live in your camper on your own land. 

It didn’t help when I explained you had to have permission to build a house. Permission from whom she asked. She thought I was joking. 

Their friend Luis had brought his Mercedes camper by, the vehicle built by Adrián and sold to Luis years ago. Now Luis, divorced, wants to buy some land in the hills in the interior and build a tiny house and Adrián is selling the camper on consignment for him.  

I’m not ready to settle down just yet but imagine building what you feel like on land you own with no one around to tell you no. It might be a concept worth remembering, in the land where the women are strong, the men are good looking and all the children are above average.

G-O-A-L!

The World Cup is what matters at the moment in South America. Bolivia teetering on the cusp of civil war posts newspaper headlines pushing the national soccer team.

Argentina and Bolivia are falling out over humanitarian assistance, Bolivians’ economic growth is rated weakest on the continent, its day 46 of rioting and street blockades, a woman bystander was beaten and sent to the ICU but top news? The World Cup; go figure.

Uruguay spent much of its 90 minute match  losing to Saudi Arabia and then almost at the last minute honor was preserved with an equalizer. Little Uruguay is in contention still. Adrián the Argentine mechanic doesn’t care for soccer, weird but true, so he kept working. He’s fixed a glitch in a self propelled tree trimmer machine that came  in needing help. 

The machine is controlled by a man with a box similar to how people operate drones. 

It takes a crowd to strap such a machine down and the three men stood around doing manly talk, not about the World Cup but about machinery and the merits of German made versus Japanese made.

Layne did a load of laundry with the washer in our cottage while I sat out with Rusty and read my book. 

It’s Act of Oblivion by Robert Harris about two killers of King Charles the First taking refuge in the Connecticut colony pursued relentlessly by a policeman with a personal grudge (they killed his pregnant wife). As unlikely as it sounds I couldn’t put it down  and I have forty pages to go. But…Layne wanted to go into town to buy a space heater. It’s been getting down to freezing at night and Rusty is the only one among us who doesn’t  care. The hardware store priced it in dollars oddly enough, US$53. We’ll leave it here when we take off.

220 volts industrial design made in China with instructions in English. It heats like a flamethrower and silently too. It acts well made and I like it.  

Wednesday it’s supposed to rain again but until then it’s icy cold around here, 50 degrees by day and 32 by night but in the sunshine if there’s no wind it is quite lovely. We took Rusty with us into town, and Colonia Valdense looked suitably wintery as I walked Rusty.

Rusty enjoyed his walk sniffing everything dragging me back and forth. He completely ignored the dogs behind their fences barking wildly at the intruder. There was a time he’d have recoiled fearfully but he has grown used to them.  

And it was impossible not to notice the burst of visible patriotism to coincide with the World Cup.

Put out more flags…

After he’d had enough walking the little prince took his ease waiting for Layne to finish her shop. 

We like having him around.  It’s a big fat goal seeing him return to his usual self.

Sunday At Home

Nothing to report today as Layne is in bed with a worsening cold, Rusty is in great shape and full of energy and I am in charge of managing our lives no mean feat.

After a heavy rainstorm last night with much wind the day has broken with bright sunshine and cold crisp air so the first order of business was get the fire going, so far much smoke and small flame as the damp wood burns. Whoever designed our chimney did a great job as the flue draws remarkably well.

We have a wall mounted electric heater in the bathroom and I’ve got that going so all I have to do now is wash the dishes and sort out the kitchen, collect more firewood and drive into town for a few supplies for the sick patient.  I feel very suburban. I had hoped for a short road trip to enjoy the road a bit. Oh well just another winter day in Uruguay.

Now, where are Rusty’s pills? Bloody dog…

Colonia Valdense

Friday was my day to lounge and read so Rusty took it upon himself to join me though he is not, despite his many attributes, much of a reader.

Layne cleaned some drawers aboard GANNET2 in preparation for re-stowing eventually, Adrián repaired a self propelled tree cutter while Maria-José cleaned and aired her suitcases ready for her car trip to see her family in Argentina.

On Thursday Layne went grocery shopping before we took Rusty to the vet so that gave my dog and I time to go for a walk around the town of Colonia Valdense. There are some classic cars in Uruguay, here a Citroen Mehari, the beach buggy chick magnet of my hopeless youth. 

Businesses are tiny, built into or around homes in these little Uruguayan towns.  Brash self promotion is not their style.  

Correo means mail.  It looks to me like a kind of sub post office in a stationary store. 

The bush sniffer hard at work.  

This corner store has the concession for intercity bus tickets. 

Boring and peaceful is Uruguay. Bolivia is on the cusp of civil war, Colombia is having elections  and explosions while Brazils elections later this year pit a far left candidate against a far right candidate. The middle ground in politics has evaporated. Except in Uruguay where tranquility rules.  The combined armed forces amount to 25,000 personnel whose major task is serving in United Nations peacekeeping forces around the world. Belligerence and coups are no longer Uruguay’s style. 

3200 people live here but Wikipedia has some interesting stuff on it: Colonia Valdense was founded in 1858, following the arrival of Italian immigrants from Piedmont, especially from the Waldensian Valleys and the Aosta Valley. The town is named after Pierre Valdo, a French merchant, founder of the religious movement known as "The Waldensians". The Waldensian Evangelical Church, which is now a Protestant church, has a strong presence here.

Clean tidy and middle class nowadays though there are poorer sections. 

Rusty finds it fascinating. 

Winter leaves everywhere.  

Rusty At The Vet

The short version is that Rusty is doing well after the “neurological event” that floored him two weeks ago. The vet checked him yesterday afternoon and prescribed another week of reduced medications along with his regular daily glucosamine to build up his joint strength.  He got his check up on the lawn as he hates doctors’ offices…

We promised to return next week and with that we hope to be back on the road in ten days or so. Uruguay continues wintery cool, sometimes sunny and boringly predictable.

Robert the American solo traveler (front left) is on his way in his LandCruiser to Buenos Aires where he likes to joke he will look for fine dining and hot women.We had a last dinner all together in town.

I had a Wiener schnitzel (“milanesa”):

While Adrián and Maria-José had giant steaks: 

And Layne and Robert had smoked pork chops in a delicious citrus glaze: 

And we went all the way with dessert which it turns out is Maria-José’s favorite course:

She’s had them all  and prefers a brownie with ice cream. Robert tried the crème brûlée:

While Layne and I shared a local delicacy called a Principe Humberto, a mess of dulce de leche, crushed merengue and crushed cookies with whipped cream or raspberry or strawberry sauce as variants.

There isn’t much information online about this dessert unique to Uruguay also exported to Spain’s Canary Islands where apparently they have a version. I can’t figure out who invented it or why or where the name comes from  but it is native to this country.

A very pleasant evening out  even for Rusty who got tail ends of steak and a walk. 

I am tempted to get sentimental every time I look at him but I am trying to keep it under control. As Layne put it he has made a considered effort to stay with us when he could easily have dropped out so I guess he really is enjoying his strange nomadic life. I know I’m enjoying it with him.