On the Road, Far From Home

Montevideo, Uruguay

The first week is done, and so far we've made our way from Helsinki to Madrid, from Madrid to Montevideo, and now along the coast to Colonia del Sacramento. Right now I’m writing this from the hotel café in Colonia. Sini and the backpacker junior are at the hotel pool, and the café is almost quiet – just a couple of locals with laptops (probably working), thermoses and mate cups. From the TV in the corner there’s a steady stream of rapid Spanish chatter that I only half understand.

Helsinki: Warming Up the Engines

The whole thing properly started back in Helsinki, on Independence Day. We had breakfast at Sokos Hotel Tripla, where we stayed the night. From there we took the local train out to the airport. At the gate we burned off some energy by playing tag at the little play area near gate 20, and refuelled with hamburgers before boarding. The take-off was exciting (as always) especially for the kid – engines roaring, the ground dropping away – but pretty soon the excitement turned into routine, and the four-hour flight went by surprisingly smoothly.

In Madrid we walked what felt like half a marathon through the airport to get our bags, then happily swapped long corridors for the metro. Three stops later we were at “our” station, and from there it was just a short walk to the hotel. Even though it was already past normal bedtime, we decided to grab something from the hotel restaurant: apple juice and nachos with guacamole, salsa and cheese sauce for the kid, a beer and some excellent jamón ibérico for the adults. Then teeth brushed and lights out – travel day one complete.

Madrid: Soft Landing Before the Big Jump

The next morning came without any real jet lag, just a pleasant “we travelled yesterday” heaviness. We headed down to the hotel breakfast, and managed – with a mix of Spanish and English – to get an egg-free plate organised for the junior straight from the kitchen. Our son’s egg allergy adds its own little twist to travelling and gives our Spanish a proper workout every time we try to explain it clearly enough. Small victories, big impact.

After breakfast we set off to explore Parque Juan Carlos I, just next to the hotel. A short walk from the entrance turned into a much longer one as we realised how big the park actually is. There were wide open paths, odd sculptures, and most importantly: playground after playground after playground. Our 5-year-old happily cycled through slides, climbing frames and whatever else he could find, and we had no reason to hurry him along. 

Later we decided it was time to meet the city centre. We took the metro from Feria de Madrid, changed a couple of times and eventually climbed out at Sol into full-on pre-Christmas chaos. A huge Christmas tree dominated the square, and the streets around it were absolutely packed with people.

From Sol we walked to Plaza Mayor, weaving our way through crowds, lights, stalls and people who all seemed to be going somewhere slightly faster than we were. It was fun for a while, but we escaped down a side street and found Bottega Café, a much calmer pocket of the city. Coffee for the parents, a Coke for the kid, and ten minutes where nobody needed to dodge strollers or apologise for bumping into strangers.

Back outside, we kept walking and suddenly there it was: Palacio Real de Madrid. In front of the palace a group of street performers had drawn a crowd, and we stopped to watch people dancing, flipping and throwing themselves into sideways somersaults that made our small spectator stare with wide eyes.

Street dancers at Palacio Real de Madrid

From there we wandered on to La Latina, where we stopped at Cañas y Tapas: tapas for the adults, French fries for the smaller member of the crew. Afterwards we did a quick run through a supermarket for supplies, and then took the metro back to the hotel with multiple changes. By the time we got off at our stop again, everyone was solidly, satisfyingly tired – exactly the way you want to feel after your first full day in a new city.

Monday in Madrid, preparing for the Midnight Flight

Our last full day in Madrid started much like the previous one: back at the park, hunting for new playgrounds and letting the little one burn off energy. By this point my nose was starting to run a bit, and I was optimistically trying to tame it with allergy meds, convinced it was “just a bit of something in the air”.

From the park we took the metro to Nuevos Ministerios, where we met up with Erika, Sini’s cousin who lives in Madrid, and headed to the Christmas market. Among other things there was a big Christmas nativity-style display full of little figures – and, hidden among them, a small pooping character you were supposed to spot for good luck. Apparently this is actually a real tradition, even if it sounds like something someone invented after a few too many glasses of wine.

From the market we walked to a paella restaurant. We had a reservation and arrived a bit early, so while we waited for our table I took the junior to a nearby playground, where he hesitantly but bravely climbed up a big slide clearly marked for 6–12 year olds – and then did it again. And again. And again. Confidence: unlocked.

Later we hopped on a bus to go and see a park lit up with Christmas lights, and then it was time to head back to the hotel to pick up the backpacks we’d left in storage. We’d almost managed a clean getaway, but Erika’s small gift had ended up at the bottom of my backpack, so she had to come by along with us before we left.

Our flight to Montevideo left just before midnight. The kiddo held on impressively long, staying awake until about 1:30 am, before finally falling asleep curled up in front of the in-flight entertainment screen. The adults weren’t far behind. At that point I was still convincing myself the runny nose and heavy head were just allergies and a long day – the next morning in Montevideo would prove me very wrong.

Montevideo: New Continent, Uninvited Fever

By the time we landed in Montevideo, it was clear that my “probably just allergies” theory hadn’t aged well.

Stepping out of the plane, I felt lightheaded, shaky and very aware of every step between passport control and the exit. After getting our luggage we headed straight to a McDonald’s, because I urgently needed a cold Coke, a coffee and a place to just sit for a moment. Every now and then that light, unreal feeling washed over me again – not exactly the state you hope for when you arrive in a new country. We ordered a Cabify – immediately renamed “käpytaksi” (a pinecone cab) by the junior – and made it to our Airbnb apartment without any extra drama, which was pretty much all I could ask for at that point.

View from our apartment building's rooftop

The rest of that first day in Uruguay was very simple:

I tried to drink as much as I could and admitted defeat to a fever that climbed past 38°C.

Sini did the brave “first supermarket mission” on her own.

Our son made himself at home with toys, TV and whatever energy he had left after a long night.

The supermarket run came with a gentle welcome-to-Uruguay moment at the checkout: three small cans of tuna somehow added up to around ten euros. New continent, new currency, same old “wait, how much was that again?” feeling.

Later, we decided to “just quickly” check out the nearby shopping mall and Tienda Inglesa.

It wasn't the best idea after all.

At some point I found myself standing there with red, tired eyes, staring at a security guard while my brain completely refused to process anything – prices, directions, what we were even trying to buy. The lightheaded, floaty feeling had turned from occasional to pretty much constant. The guard probably pegged me as some kind of spaced-out weirdo, and I’m genuinely surprised he didn’t decide to follow us around just in case.

The next morning started with more fever and those annoying little waves of dizziness that make even normal walking feel like a contact sport. With enough water and medication, things slowly started to improve, and at some point we decided that staying inside all day would feel worse than shuffling around outside.

So we picked a simple mission:

walk to the big Montevideo sign for the obligatory photo

continue down to the beach

grab food and do one more supermarket run on the way back

The little one’s energy levels were much higher than the adults’, which is usually ok – except when combined with selective listening. Let’s just say we got an early training session in “how to handle a strong-willed 5-year-old in a new city when everyone is tired”. No disasters, just a reminder that this trip will be also about parenting as much as the fun stuff.

in the Old Town

Once the worst of the fever had passed, we were ready to actually see Montevideo rather than just its nearest supermarket. We headed to the old town and walked along palm-lined streets toward the harbour area. There was, naturally, a playground on the way — which we had no choice but to test properly.

Palm-lined streets

From there we continued to Mercado del Puerto (the Port Market), where we ate at Cabaña Veronica. It was our first proper steak of the trip, accompanied by really good chimichurri that could probably make almost anything taste better.

After lunch we walked a bit more and ordered a Cabify back to the apartment, cooked something simple for the next day, and called it a day.

Hard Rock Cafe, Huge Sandwiches and a Tiny Ship Captain

The next day turned into a slightly more commercial adventure: our target was Hard Rock Cafe Montevideo.

It was pretty close so we walked there, picked up cold drinks and T-shirts for the grown-ups, and then headed to a nearby playground where junior immediately appointed himself captain of a large play-ship.

On the way back I went hunting for a local delicasy: a chivito – Uruguay’s take on the ultimate steak sandwich, a full-on comfort-food monster. I went to Chiviteria Marcos and ordered a Chivito Marcos Completo to go. It came with fries and the bag must have weighed over two kilograms!

Chivito Marcos Completo

This particular version was big enough that even with both adults eating from it, a sizeable portion still ended up in the fridge for later. Not the lightest meal of the trip, but definitely one of the more memorable ones so far. The rest of the day consisted of chilling in the apartment, researching bus timetables, reserving tickets and spending some time at the pool.

Parque Rodó, Walking Detours and Ninja Manouvers

Saturday started in the best possible way for a 5-year-old: a morning at the apartment complex's pool.

After that, we ordered a Cabify towards Parque Rodó, planning to take the scenic beach route. However the coastal road was surprisingly closed because of a rock concert being set up, so we had to take a detour.

At some point on the walk, our son was riding piggyback on Sini’s back, and her foot caught the edge of the pavement. What followed looked suspiciously like an accidental ninja roll onto the sidewalk – backpack, child and all. Thanks to good reflexes (and maybe a bit of luck), they walked away with just a few scrapes and a higher heart rate. We’ll file that under “things we don’t necessarily need to repeat, but will definitely remember”.

We eventually made it to Parque Rodó and the small local amusement park. Unfortunately the kids’ rides were closed, so we settled for watching other people spinning around in the heat, wandered a bit more through the park and then headed back.

By the end of the day we’d done around five kilometres in the sun, and our short-legged travel companion handled it super bravely on foot. Back at the apartment there was a well-earned ice cream waiting – sometimes the best way to end a day.

Colonia del Sacramento: Turning the Volume Down

We had an early breakfast on Sunday, confidently convinced that packing, tidying up and getting out the door would be quick and painless. It wasn’t — and I have to admit we’re hopeless time optimists even back home, not just in travel mode.. Somehow it always takes longer than planned, and by the time everything was finally ready it was already close to 10:30. Still, we made it just in time, ordered a Cabify to Tres Cruces, and hopped on the bus.

Our ride

About two and a half hours later, we arrived in Colonia del Sacramento.

After a short ten-minute walk we found our hotel, Hotel Leoncia, checked in, dropped the bags in the room and immediately felt the pace drop a notch. 

We didn’t waste much time before heading out again, walking towards the old town. Cobblestone streets, low buildings and that unmistakable “this place has seen things” atmosphere kicked in pretty quickly. Lunch found us at Restaurant Picasso, where we ordered two good sized pizzas.

Colonia del Sacramento

With full stomachs, we slowly wandered back to the hotel. The pizzas had done their job a bit too well, and by the time evening rolled around there was no need for dinner at all.

Monday in Colonia: Tourists 1 – Double Pricing 0

We started by strolling along the main street (Gral. Flores) to a barbershop where the junior got a haircut. The cut itself was perfectly fine — but the place lost a couple of points for trying to charge us double. The price on their website was 400, but suddenly at the counter it was 800. Luckily these tourists were awake enough to pull out a phone, show their own website, and magically the price returned to normal. Funny how that works.

After that we continued via a playground (obviously) and walked a bit out of town to a waterfront restaurant, Puerto Cañón to enjoy refreshments and some loaded fries. Then we headed back towards the old town for coffee, and later ended up at A la Pipetuá Bistro — a place we first walked past, but it looked too good not to try. Great decision: the food was excellent.

Small cobblestone streets of Colonia

From there it was back to the hotel, where I started writing this blog post while Sini and the junior went for a swim. Turning a week of travel into words turns out to be a slower process than moving between countries, and right now I’m finishing this post in Buenos Aires, Argentina. But that’s another story for later...