© 2001, 2024 Rex Jaeschke. All rights reserved.
[Continued from Part 1.]
Back to the Capital and on to Punta del Este
In San Jose, we departed Florencia's apartment at 12:25 and walked to the bus depot to get my seat assignment on the 12:45 bus. The bus arrived, stopped for barely a minute, and then we were off even before I made it to my seat! It seemed that the timetables for the intercity buses were reliable. I had Seat 20 at a window. There was no air conditioning, and it was an old, but serviceable bus. It was a warm day with heavy clouds holding back the sun and a nice breeze blowing in my open window. A young man by the name of Carlos sat next to me. He was traveling with his mother, teenage sister, and two younger siblings. We talked a bit, and I discovered that he worked at a place that printed wallpaper. I gave candy to the children.
Along the way, we stopped at various places and occasionally got off onto local roads in and out of towns near the main highway. There was an interesting mix of passengers that included an anorexic young woman carrying a very large chemistry textbook heading back to university in the capital, and several young mothers with way-too-tight jeans, bare midriffs, and oversized love handles. As was usual in Latin America, the kids were well behaved and amused themselves quietly.
We travelled through rich farmland all the way to the outskirts of the capital. Then we came upon some real shanty towns with some buildings made entirely of very rusty sheets of galvanized iron and others with crumbling concrete. Ironically, in the distance, I could see the high-rise office towers downtown. What a contrast!
At the Tres Cruces terminal (Three Crossings, where three major transportation routes converged), I confirmed my onward ticket, and I had an hour's wait. I found a small café run by two nice young woman, and I had a ham-and-cheese sandwich and café cortado (short coffee). I bought postcards and stamps, and when I spoke in Spanish, the saleswoman responded in English, which confused me at first, as I was trying hard to get into Spanish mode.
My bus departed on time, and in fact it was such a busy route that two buses left for the same destination. I had an aisle seat and the woman next to me at the window was going to visit her daughter and grandchildren. We had quite a conversation after which she had a nap, presumably because I'd worn her out!
We drove out through the inner suburbs to the airport and then through more shanty towns. Then we went through forest and followed the coast to the east. I was surprised to see sand dunes, but then again, "Why Not?" Apparently, sandboarding, a sand version of snowboarding, was popular. At first, the forest was all pine trees, then eucalypts, and then a combination of both. Both kinds were harvested and there was a well-organized forestry program in that area.
The trip took two hours with an occasional stop. Along the way, we passed through some small mountains and on into lush rolling hills where contented beef cattle grazed. [The Brits had introduced quality breeds of cattle and built the railroad lines needed to export their meat. They also introduced sheep with high-quality wool, which eventually made Uruguay a major competitor in the international wool market.] As we topped the final hill, there in the distance was the peninsula containing the resort city of Punta del Este packed with luxury high-rise apartments. This is where the wealthy Argentinians typically came to play in the sand, sea, and the clubs.
The Resort Town of Punta del Este
On arrival, I phoned my next host, Marcelo, who agreed to meet me at the bus station. Meanwhile, I located the tourist office where I was served by a very nice woman who also collected coins, so I gave her a Virginia state quarter. We communicated using her little bit of English and my little bit of Spanish. It was balmy, but with the wind blowing, it was quite nice out. This part of the country was quite different to what I'd experienced thus far. I bought some emergency rations for myself (potato chips) and almond chocolates for my hosts.
At 6:45 pm, Marcelo arrived in his minivan, which he used to take tour groups around the area, as well as to and from the capital. His English was good, so we were easily able to communicate. Originally from Argentina, he'd moved the family from there some 15 years previous. They were Jewish, having descended from Ukrainian immigrants. His main job was running a John Deere agency selling small tractors and gardening equipment to places that serviced the wealthy people who had holiday homes in the area.
Marcelo took me on a driving tour of the tourist area, and we stopped at the pier where we ate pastries, talked to people fishing, and watched the sea lions compete with the seagulls for fish entrails being thrown from several fishing boats. Out at the point there was an anchor and memorial to do with the WWII great sea battle between three British cruisers and the German cruiser Admiral Graf Spee in 1939.
We came across a group of traditional dancers and drummers, all in various stages of dress, or lack thereof in the case of several belly dancers. Their style, candombe, came with the slaves from Africa. Led by flag wavers and a man on stilts, the group paraded past one of the two casinos. After we took some photos, we drove to the nearby town of Maldonado, where Marcelo and his family lived.
Susana, Marcelo's wife, was in Montevideo where she was manning her stall at a national craft fair. She made candles and various other things. Teenage son Javier was out, but I met daughter Ana. She was a university student studying architecture in the capital. Three days each week, she rode two hours by bus to and from school, reading and sleeping along the way. She had spent the 1998/1999 US school year at a high school near Seattle, Washington. Javier had just finished high school and was taking some computer classes at a local college. Ana made a bed for me, and I freshened up before Marcelo and I went out to supper.
We went to a place called Piano Bar – J.R. Pizzetas. All the tabletops were old treadle sewing machines, and the old-style furnishings were most interesting. A baby grand piano sat in one corner. A man played acoustic guitar while we ate, and don't you know, he played Hotel California, the same song I'd heard performed back in San Jose.
I was introduced to a new (to me) style of menu called Tenedor Libre, literally, "Free Fork." One could order as much food as one liked at US$5 per person. Drinks and desserts were extra. We drank pomelo, a soft drink with a grapefruit/lime taste. We ordered several small pizzas, which we shared. They were followed with bowls of pasta, then coffee cortado, of which each cup was served with a glass of sparkling, mineral water, to be drank in its entirety immediately after the coffee. The total cost with tip for the two of us was US$21. I also tipped the guitar player.
By the time we got back home, it was 11:30 pm. We talked some more and at midnight I went to bed with the window open to a light breeze. I was in Javier's room, as he was staying with friends. He had a large fish tank, and I decided that the fish needed to sleep too, so I switched off their light. I was tired, but sleep eluded me. But then once I did get to sleep, mosquitos came to visit. Don't you just hate that when that happens! Then it rained so heavily I thought the roof would come down on me! Actually, there were large hailstones, which stayed on the ground until the next morning.
[During one of our conversations, Marcello told me that local eucalypt trees were cut and barked, and shipped to Scandinavia where they were mixed in with conifer pulp to make paper.]
[Next day] My alarm went off at 10 o'clock and I emerged to see Ana and to meet her brother, Javier. Together, we had Twinning's tea and pastries. Susana was back from Montevideo and was unpacking from the show there. Marcelo was out driving tourists around.
At midday, we walked to a grocery store to get some things for lunch. I rescued a large brick of ice cream and a 2-liter bottle of Pomelo drink to share. Ana made us "surprise chop suey." Afterwards, we ate dessert outside under trees in the backyard. Their house was the daytime home of two very friendly cats (one of which tried to "help" me write this diary), and a communally owned boxer dog. Ana introduced me to her four tortoises. Each had a name, but they were hard to tell apart! She fed them once each day on salad leaves and some vegetable that smelled like a cucumber but was more like a zucchini. Then I did some laundry while Ana did housework. I also worked on this diary while candombe music played in the background. Later, I took a nap out on the back porch and generally had an easy afternoon.
That evening, Ana, Javier, and I walked into town to eat at a place that served local food. I had chorizos, a salad, and a very large, tall coffee. Back home, I phoned my next host. Marcelo and Susana came home around 11 pm, and we talked for an hour. It was a great night, and once again I slept with the window wide open.
[Next day] Breakfast involved Darjeeling tea, bread, and cheese. I went out with Marcelo and Javier to deliver some things and to see some of the surrounding countryside. The speed bumps on the roads were HUGE; they were called Lomo de Burro, "the back of the donkey!" We stopped at a park and playground where animals shapes were made from old trees and pieces of wood. Along one country road lined with forest, we came across some women each standing about 100 meters apart. Apparently, they were prostitutes plying their trade with passersby!
We visited the town of La Barra, an expensive resort at the point where a river met the sea. It had a most unusual bridge (see the photo on the Wikipedia link.) We ended up in downtown Punta del Este where Javier and I walked around, and I bought some postcards and a large sticker to put on the front of my diary. Back home, we had a late lunch of pasta and salad. Later, Ana dropped Javier, his friend Bruno, and me downtown where we took a boat out to Isla Gorriti in the bay. There, we walked around for an hour before catching the last boat back. Afterwards, we caught a local bus back home and I had a long nap. (This touring business can be hard work!)
While out and about, I noticed people carrying thermos flasks. Apparently, they were full of hot water and were used to make maté, a traditional South American drink made from the dried leaves of yerba mate. It was very popular and something like herbal tea. The powder used to make it smelled to me like fish meal, and I was not inspired to try it.
[Next day] After a light breakfast, I sat in the garden and read my novel, and then we had an early lunch. By 1 pm, we were at the harbor ready to go on a cruise to an island with sealions; however, a tour group had booked the whole boat. Don't you just hate that when that happens! Plan B involved walking around Maldonado, eating ice cream, and visiting some museums.
We were back home late afternoon at which time I packed my gear, and I wrote in their guestbook. At 5 o'clock, the whole family walked me to the bus terminal, which was only 200 meters from the house, and they helped me get my ticket and seat, and asked the conductor to make sure I got off at the right stop. The bus was five minutes late arriving, and after hugs and saying "Adios, mis amigos" ("Goodbye, my friends"), the bus pulled away with me in Seat 10 on an aisle. The air conditioning was blowing hard, which was a bit of shock after having none and wearing shorts the past few days. The family members were all great hosts, and I had a great visit. When they offered to have me stay longer, I was sorely tempted, but you just never know what new adventure is just around the corner.
On to the Next Host
At 6:40, the bus dropped me off at a stop next to the toll booth on the main highway not far east of Montevideo, and a minute later, my next host, Veronica, and her 18-month-old daughter, Erika, arrived and drove me to her house behind the sand dunes near the beach. Trained as a civil engineer, she was currently working in marketing for the national cellphone company, Antel. Her husband, Julio, was a communications engineer with the same company.
They spoke minimal English, so I switched to Spanish mode. And while that was quite challenging, we got by. Julio came home about 8 o'clock, and we got to know each other a bit. I was their first Servas guest, which was a real honor! They often ate vegetarian, and we had pasta in a marinara sauce for supper. As they'd both had long days, they were in bed by 10 while I read until 11.
[Next day] I was awake soon after 6 am. The house had many large windows, mostly without curtains, and as it was late spring, the sun rose early. Erika woke soon after and had her morning bottle in bed with her parents. After a breakfast of tea and toast, we all walked to the beach. A few people walked dogs. The water there is fresh as the very wide river pushed well out into the sea. Both parents headed off to work around 9 o'clock, and soon after a woman arrived to take care of Erika and to do some housework.
If one were looking for a dream holiday place, this one would be a good place to start. It was situated immediately behind large sand dunes about 400 meters from the beach. It had a large yard with a high, solid fence to keep out the wind, and lots of grass and trees. It was built for my hosts and was only six years old. Half of the house has two levels while the large living/dining room was open to the very top of the roof. I slept in a space under a thatched roof, a common thing for houses by the beach. A large fan hung on a wall and created a nice breeze, so no air conditioning was needed. The floors were tiled, there was a big fireplace, a cane rocking chair, bright colored sofas, plenty of indoor plants, and white-washed, rough interior walls with a splash of yellow paint here and there.
Not having had my full quota of sleep, I lay on the bed at 9:30 for what was intended to be a short nap, but ran 3½ hours! Apparently traveling and writing diaries can be hard work! For lunch, I made a sandwich and some tea, and it seemed that the planets were very much aligned as my hosts drank exactly the same brand of tea as I did: Taylors of Harrogate.
Mid-afternoon, I received a phone call from my next host, Lucretia. I'd sent her email the day before to coordinate our meeting. After I finished my novel, I started reading an issue of The Economist I'd brought with me, catching up with world affairs. Although it wasn't so hot out, the wind was quite strong, so I stayed indoors. A young man, Federico, dropped by. He was Veronica's cousin and had designed the house. He invited me to stay with him in Montevideo or to get together for a meal.
My hosts didn't get home till after 9 pm, and Julio fired up a large outdoor grill, and we ate BBQ, Uruguay-style, at 10:30. We ate several kinds of sausages, strips of beef ribs, and salad, and we drank pomelo. Lights out around 11:30.
Julio reminded me that it was Thanksgiving Day in the US, something I'd completely forgotten about.
[Next day] After a decent sleep, I was up at 8 o'clock. After a shower, I packed my gear and stripped my bed. Breakfast was tea and toast with leftover BBQ'd sausages. My hosts thought that eating meat for breakfast was quite strange, and certainly one wouldn't want to put ketchup on it; really!
Soon afterwards, I departed with Julio in his pickup truck for downtown Montevideo. The drive along the coast was pleasant with beaches all the way to the city and people walking dogs and jogging.
Off to Lucretia's Place
At Plaza Libertidad, we said our goodbyes. As it started to rain quite heavily, I sat under some shelter in the park. At 11 am, I called Lucrecia who decided to come and get me in her car. She arrived in her Ford station wagon, along with her pure-bred hunting dog, Diana, and much to Lucretia's surprise Diana and I bonded very quickly. We drove back to Lucretia's apartment, which was located in a renovated warehouse.
I occupied the guestroom, which contained a cello and double bass. Lucretia played cello for the national symphony orchestra, but that weekend's concerts had been cancelled due to construction problems at the hall.
We ate lunch at an Armenian restaurant, where I had a sample of many different things. It was very good and only cost about US$13 for the two of us. I offered to cook Chinese, so we went to a supermarket to pick up ingredients for that and an omelet. We took our time there looking at many of the things in most aisles. Back home, we both had naps.
When I woke, I found that Lucretia had taken the dog for a walk, so I worked on this diary. Then the phone rang, and I managed to deal with that with my basic Spanish.
It rained much of the afternoon. I chopped the vegetables and marinated the chicken and pork, adding in a generous quantity of crushed garlic. I started cooking at 8:30, and Lucretia's boyfriend, Louis, joined us. He taught theory at the music department of the public university. Although the rice was not my best effort, the meal was decent, despite there not being Chinese sauces and specialties at the market. Dessert was peaches and ice cream. As Lucretia didn't cook much, she was happy to have me take over the kitchen. As she usually ate on the couch in front of the TV, for this auspicious occasion, she set up a dining table, chairs, and a full linen service.
[Next day] Lucretia joined Servas as a traveler in 1997, but had only been a host for one year. I was her first guest. I slept late after which I started to prepare breakfast. Lucretia asked me if I'd like to stay indefinitely and do all the cooking, since she liked this new lifestyle I was presenting. Breakfast involved toast, ham, cheese, a pot of Twinning's Orange Pekoe tea, and orange juice. Afterwards, I put a load of laundry in her washer.
Outside, the rain stopped but there was a cool wind. The sun was trying hard to come out, but there was a lot of cloud cover. In any event, we put on our jackets and headed out around the old part of the city to the cathedral, a flea market, and some museums, and then finished up at a restaurant for a sandwich and coffee. We visited the Old Customs House, which had been converted to a large, indoor food court with traditional BBQ, seafood bars, and restaurants. We met up with her friend, Viviene, and her two dogs, and we walked along a beach. We came upon a German Shepherd club having a competition, so we stopped and watched that for a while.
Back home, I decided to stay in for the evening to get warm while Lucretia went out with friends. I ate leftover Chinese food while watching a video and listening to some music. Unfortunately, my sleep was interrupted by a very noisy party next door. Don't you just hate that when that happens!
[Next day] It was breakfast with a twist: hot chocolate, toast with ham and cheese, and fresh pastries containing quince jam. During the early afternoon, we walked a few blocks to Lucretia's parent's house, stopping on the way to buy drinks and a tin of Danish cookies as a gift. There, I met her mother, father, younger sister, and her boyfriend. A lunch of beef, spaghetti, and tomato sauce was served with drinks. Her father, Juan Carlos, was a medical doctor, and he collected a number of old things: coins, religious art and statues, fossils, and household things. His collections were on display throughout the house, and they were most interesting. That day, he'd arrived home carrying a very old and rusty rifle he'd purchased at the antique market.
By the time we got back home, it was 5 pm, and I had a late nap. The national football stadium was not far away and unbeknownst to me, that very day, the Australian soccer team was in town for the return World Cup match. I was woken to very loud cheers and horns as goals were scored. Frankly, I was hoping that the locals were winning; otherwise, it might not be safe for an Aussie to be out on the streets afterwards!
At 7:30, we went downtown by taxi to see all the locals celebrating Uruguay's win. We went to Louis' apartment up on the 13th floor from which we had a great view over the main plaza where Artigas, the great revolutionary hero was buried in a mausoleum under a huge statue of him on a horse. We went out into streets filled with merrymakers and police on every corner. We went to a concert of Uruguayan music, which wasn't quite to my liking, although I did enjoy the drumming that is a national favorite. At the end, all the performers played and marched up the aisle, out into the foyer, and eventually out into the street. I met one of the drummers who was a friend of my host. By 10:30, most of the revelers had dispersed and we settled in at a table at a pizza restaurant.
Now, Lucretia had warned me not to leave my hiking boots lying around, as Diana liked to chew on things. Well, I'd forgotten to close my bedroom door, and Diana had indeed taken a liking to one boot, and had chewed open the tongue and ripped out the foam filling. However, no serious damage had been done.
A Visit to the Poor Side of Town
[Next day] I was up early and after breakfast I packed my gear. I said goodbye to Lucretia as she went off to a rehearsal and I walked to a bus stop. From there, I took a local bus to the main bus station where I was to meet Bertha, a retired social worker. She arrived at 9:30 and we took a bus out past the airport to a so-called "daycare center" for poor kids, run by Catholic Charities. As there were not enough schools for all children to attend school fulltime, half attended in the morning, and the other half in the afternoon, leaving the kids at loose ends half of each school day.
The Center gave the local kids a safe place to come and to keep out of trouble. Many of their families had no laundry or bathing facilities, so many kids bathed at the Center, which also had spare sets of clothing to lend to kids while theirs were being washed. They were taught basic hygiene, especially brushing their teeth.
I fixed a few things and generally helped as needed, and then answered many questions from the kids. We went over a map of Uruguay, and I explained to them where I'd visited. Then using a globe, I showed where I lived in the US, where Australia was, and how my hometown there had the same latitude as Uruguay.
A university student arrived and played guitar and sang with the kids. One young girl, Patricia, was especially interested and interesting. She was around 11 or 12, and the eldest of six sisters. She genuinely had a thirst for knowledge. She invited me to meet her parents, so I walked home with her to a shack made of scraps of corrugated iron and wood, earthen floors, all on a grassy block, in a neighborhood with lots of trash lying around. The father didn't care to work, and the mother had bloodshot eyes and numerous mental-health problems. According to several staff at the Center, several of the sisters had potential, but given their circumstances, it was unlikely they would get much of an opportunity to nurture it. It certainly was a humbling experience to see their situation. [For several years afterwards, I thought about Patricia and wondered if she'd somehow "broken out" of her grim situation.]
Bertha and I rode back to her place with the guitar player, and we all had tea with honey. While there, I noticed a few things that needed fixing, and between my Swiss Army knife attachments and her tools, I set to work. Most importantly, I repaired the handle of her kettle, so she wouldn't be at risk of scalding herself.
Going Up-Scale, Don't You Know!
I left Bertha's place around 5 o'clock and walked 10 blocks to a very fashionable neighborhood where my next host, Anita, lived. She drove up just as I arrived. Anita taught English and spoke several other languages as well. Her very large, comfortable house was near a beach. We had a long walk down along the coast and watched the sunset. Then we went to an old military prison that had been restored and turned into a modern shopping center. Christmas sale promotions were in full swing with Santa having his picture taken with kids. Several of his female helpers were wearing teeny bikini tops and were dancing around. Watching them was my Christmas present! At a restaurant, I had a chivito, a local specialty of bread wrapped around beef strips, bacon, tomato, boiled egg slices, and lettuce. A side of French fries came with it.
We walked back home, and, after a shower, I had an early night. However, there were a lot of fireworks outside and dogs barking, so it took me a while to get to sleep. My bed was a sofa that was hard and way too short!
[Next day] Soon after 9 o'clock, Anita and I drove to her daughter's house to drop off some things, after which we settled in at a restaurant at an up-scale apartment complex overlooking the beach where we had breakfast outside under a large umbrella. I had toast with cheese and jam and a café con leche and we talked for several hours. Next, we visited a large park where many fruit and vegetable stalls were operating. We bought some things and were back home by noon.
The sun was quite hot and there was a breeze. I sat out in the garden under a canopy of trees and frangipanis. Throughout the afternoon, Anita taught English to private students. Then around 8 pm, we ordered pizza and chorizo, which was promptly delivered, and we ate that with salad. Lights out around 10 pm after an easy day.
My Final Host
[Next day] I woke early and packed my gear. We drove to the house of Marisa, the first local I'd met at the start of the trip, where we dropped off my stuff. Then we parked near a school where Anita would work that day, and had a light breakfast together. We said out goodbyes and I strolled the main avenue, Avenida 18 de Julio (18th of July), named after the date of the first Constitution (July 1830).
It was a sunny day, and I set out on a self-guided tour. My first stop was the automobile club to find out the hours of their car museum. While there, I decided to use their toilet. However, when I went to leave the toilet the main door was locked. Don't you just hate that when that happens! I had visions of being found days later with my last will and testament scribbled on a roll of toilet paper! I knocked loudly a few times on the door and eventually two young ladies arrived. I asked in my best Spanish, "Got any bloody keys?" They did and they were most embarrassed that they'd locked me in.
Next stop was the Pedagogy Museum to learn about the rather advanced system of free, public education Uruguay had practiced for the past 125 years. While there, I was not locked in any toilet! Nearby in a large bank building, I visited a Gaucho museum and a money museum. Afterwards, I sat on the grass in the main square, Plaza Independencia, and watched the locals go by for quite some time. I looked in a few shops and then I spied a McDonalds, so I went in for some hot and salty French fries! I took my food upstairs and ate it. Back on the street, I came across two Peruvians playing flute and guitar, and I stopped and had a short concert of tunes by the Beatles and Simon and Garfunkel. When they took a break, one of them came and sat with me and we had a passable conversation in Spanish. When I left, I gave them a generous tip.
I got back to Marisa's place around 2 pm, and tried to nap, but to no avail. So, I watched TV for the first time in a week, but nothing much seemed to be happening in-country or around the world. I went out and bought some groceries to contribute to our supper, then I worked on this diary while playing some Baroque music. At 6 o'clock, I went off to tour the car museum, which was small but had some interesting exhibits. Back home, we ate empanadas and salad with peach juice.
[Next day] I slept late and spent the morning reading and watching TV and resting. Mid-afternoon, Marisa and I had a late lunch at a hotel restaurant. I had my first hungara, a hot dog wrapped in ham and cheese in a jacket of toasted bread, along with a Russian salad (sliced potatoes, peas, carrots, and mayonnaise).
Early evening, we headed off to a school where Marisa worked. It was raining quite heavily, and we took a while to get there. Near the school was an art gallery and museum that featured works from a well-known painter, Juan Manuel Blanes. A Japanese garden had recently been opened in the grounds.
Because of the rain, the open-air concert we'd planned to attend was cancelled, so she phoned Anita, and we met at a restaurant for supper at 9 o'clock. After a wonderful meal, I was in bed by midnight.
[Next day] Once again, I slept late, after which I showered and packed most of my gear. I ate a light breakfast while watching CNN news and various current-affairs programs. Since it would be a long travel day, I took it easy. Marisa came home unexpectedly, and we had lunch together. She was in the process of buying a house on the beach and was meeting with her bank that day.
The Trip Back Home
Mid-afternoon, I packed, said goodbye to the housekeeper, and waited outside at the main entrance of the apartment building. Ten minutes later, my ride to the airport arrived. It was a sort-of taxi service. The driver appeared to be a racecar enthusiast. We were tailgating at 65 mph and creating an extra lane between the two that were marked, and generally weaving in and out of traffic. We arrived at the airport, intact, barely!
I was checked-in quite quickly, and as I passed through security, I triggered the alarm, but nothing suspicious was found. After I cleared immigration, I stopped in the duty-free shops to use up my last local currency on some music CDs. (As I was well under budget for the trip, I'd left most of my local currency with Marisa for the kid's center where I'd volunteered.) I made myself comfortable in the Business Lounge where I had a snack of ham, cheese, juice, and potato chips. I could see my plane out the window.
The flight to Buenos Aires was pleasant and quick. Once again, at BA I was escorted to the First-Class lounge, where I tried very hard to avoid eating and drinking. Then I was escorted onto my connecting flight, right to my Suite where flight attendant Jacqueline started fussing over me. Don't you just love that when that happens! The plane was a Boeing 777, which had a better First-Class than the 767 on which I'd flown down.
I watched a movie, The Knight's Tale, which I thoroughly enjoyed. My dinner choices were, as follows: Appetizer of mushroom ragout in puff pastry with braised fennel OR Parma ham and mozzarella cheese, hard-boiled egg, and grilled asparagus; with a garden salad and dressing and a selection of breads; Main Couse: Filet mignon with Barolo wine sauce and cremini mushrooms, artichoke and spinach gratine, lemon thyme potato pie OR Sautéed sea bass and grilled shrimp with saffron jus, bouillon potatoes, fried leeks, and Roma tomato OR Roasted breast of chicken and balsamic rosemary jus, sautéed leeks, and lentil compote; Dessert: International cheese sampler, ice cream with sundae topping, and fresh fruit. Decisions, decisions, decisions!
I got my bed into its lay-flat position, fluffed up my pillow, and settled down to sleep.
[Next day] I woke at 3:30 am, EST, to find myself at 30,000 feet above Cuba; Hello Fidel! After splashing some cold water on my face, I sat down to breakfast, choosing the ham, cheese, and fruit instead of the mushroom leek omelet with pork and cheese potato pancake. Now that I was back in the Northern Hemisphere and it was winter, it was still dark out as we approached Miami, Florida. Out my window, I had a good look at the metro area all lit up.
We landed in Chicago on-schedule at 4:35 am to a busy airport as many flights were arriving from Latin America. I had less than an hour until my connecting flight, and security was thorough. I boarded the Boeing 737 and had a nice sleep along the way to Washington Dulles International airport where the fog was so thick, we circled the area for 30 minutes until it burned off. I phoned home and Jenny picked me up 25 minutes later.
At home, I had a refreshing shower and did some work before having a very long nap. The trip was becoming a fading memory as I had to prepare for and leave the very next day for a 1-week business trip to Pennsylvania to teach a seminar.
It had been a very good trip, but I was happy to be home!