A day short of events, certainly in comparison to the previous day. Assume I read a lot.
At some point we left the hostel and tried to go to the Museum of Football. We got on a bus that suggested it went to Estadio Centenario, but instead went to Malvin. What is Malvin? A lovely beach. No football memorabilia anywhere to be seen...
We bought water and Coke and got on a bus that took us right back to where we started. This time we went to a restaurant called Chivito Del Oro ('Gold Goat'), except that chivito, in spite of the name, is not made from goat, rather it is a delicious steak sandwich, provided you order 'al pan' and not really really big with chips like what we did.
'Hotel Hotel'? The worst name ever!
We returned to the hostel and Sarah passed out for a couple of hours. I arranged plans with Mauro and Carmen, our Uruguayan friends from Punta Del Este, and we meet them in the Montevidean district of Pocitos at 9.30pm. A walk along the front through the artesian market ensues, and we are very generously given a bottle of fancy liquor to aid our weekend's festivities. The reputation of the Irish has no limits in this world (nor the next, I fancy).
Where shall we go for beer? How about this shopping centre in Punta Carretas that used to be a prison?
Sarah finds a giant shoe, and we enjoy a tasty beer in Don Peperone, a bit like Frankie And Benny's but no fry on the menu (which is weird at F&Bs, isn't it?, being a faux-Italian restaurant and all). The conversation is fine, though Sarah and I are feeling the pressure of the mounting humidity, a trifle unusual for us down here, and we jump on a bus home.
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