Cordoba Hotels
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Sun, Sand and Scorpions
Entry 12 of 24 | show all | print this entry |
So here I am in Cordoba attempting to burn 7 hours by eating, using the internet and well waiting. Not the most time-effective use of my time in this buzzing city but essential nonetheless. Having been set upon making it to Mendoza for the weekend I decided that night stop overs in Rosario and Cordoba would be an ideal way of breaking up the journey however in doing so I didnt appreciate the journey times involved so instead of staying the night here to participate in the tango-fest they have on the steps every Friday night I am burning the 6 hour interval between the bus here and the night bus to Mendoza (only 5 more hours to go!) in one of only 2 places I judge to be safe to sit with all my belongings. The time between today and my last entry has been far less time draining nonetheless.
The hostel in Punta Del Diablo turned out to be the closest Ive come to a certain infamous Torquay based Basil Fawlty ran estbalishment since getting out here. The hostel was, well, quite literally starting to fall apart and it had only been open for 3 months! Ran by a Wisconsin couple, they were living the dream ostensibly. However on further inspection the charming timber based beach hostel and its sister bar/restaurant turned out to be in dire need of a Gordon Ramsay style shake-up, something me and a kiwi buddy attempted to do through the completion of a feedback form and we sure hope they take heed because the hostel has so much potentital! So baically guys if your in this charming beach resort in the next couple of hours, go! Otherwise, go, but bring a yellow safety helmet just in case the inevitable occurs.
Saying that I had a great time there with my Dutch travel buddy and the assortment of friends we picked up on the way including a miserable Irishman with a humongous sun-burnt bottom lip who proved a source of endless unintended amusement for myself a fellow Englishman we met, a further 2 and the Kiwi. The same would have been true for the lovel brother and sister from Ohio had it not been for the fact most of his misery was directed at the American way of life despite the fact it was the sister that even invited the Leprechaun-esque guy in the first place! Although that is not entirely fair he had some optimistic stories to tell although they all seemed to involve various Irish pubs dotted round South America.
The beach was wonderful although slightly risky, given that one resident at the hostel, a perma-stoned-Bob-Geldof look alike was stung by a scorpion reaching into his guitar case but it did prove to be an isolated case (apparently) and Diablo was a great place to chill out and escape the city life for a couple of days and update a tan that has been rapidly fading since Rio although the white-bits are well and truly back with avengeance!
From there a small group of us (the Iowans, 2 english and the kiwi) all got the same bus to the capital city of Montevideo where we had a luxury dinner of fine meats and fine wine and then spent many hours drinking in the hostel's cellar. After several litre sized bottles of Quilmes the guitar in the corner proved to be a very desirable accessory and myself, the kiwi and one of the Englishmen proceded to have the worst sing along I have ever participated in and it proved to be the first time where the age gap between myself and other travellers had shown as it was nigh impossible to find a cult song that we all knew the words to and could play on guitar but it was hillarious to participate in (percussion included) although the other people in the bar and the residents in the rooms upstairs might have a different spin on this!
My final day in Uruguay consisted of bikes and a great tour of the scenic beaches, a botched swim to a deserted island before realising I had lost my camera and thus any photographic evidence of me ever being in Uruguay but it could be (a lot) worse and it means I have a solid excuse to visit such a great country again.
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