Hola from Montevideo, where, per the Spanish translation, I think I’m supposed to be seeing some mountains.
We arrived on a Friday afternoon, and I dined with the other pilots at Baca, a small wine bistro just around the corner from our hotel in Punta Carretas. Hungry from the journey, I enjoyed a ribeye, or ojo de bife (eye of beef).
In the southern hemisphere, early March is the end of summer, so a light breeze whistled across the Rio de la Plata as the hot afternoon broke into a pleasant evening. The rooftop pool at the Opta hotel was too chilly to enjoy, however.
Hunting for physical postcards the next day proved difficult. I popped into a few tiendas and supermercados to no avail. In the Punta Carretas shopping mall, I asked about postales in a bookstore. The clerks handed me packets of postcards featuring aerial photography. I thought they were notecards with envelopes, so I bought tres. They turned out to be fan-folded packets of six postcards each…so I ended up with dieciocho.
My Spanish still needs work.
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