Explorations and Adventures
Two gay men are walking down the street in Montevideo… and no, I still don’t have a punchline. Give me time.
On Friday, Mikey and I left the pups and ventured out to explore the neighborhood. We had no real plan—we just wandered: up a street, across another, up a different one, like two Roombas on vacation. Somewhere along the way, we found a military training facility with an administrative building straight out of a historic drama. Pillars, ornate moldings, fancy stonework… the kind of architecture that says, “Our buildings are a reflection of our history.” Parts of the building jutted out like castle towers, which made me briefly consider whether I should bow.
Eventually, we hit the commercial area—shops, vendors, food trucks, the works. If you needed it, someone was selling it. We window-shopped like we needed to add to our already cumbersome haul, checked out vendor tables filled with everything from shirts to mystery objects, and then—shock of all shocks—we found a Burger King. In Uruguay. Who knew? The menu was in Spanish, but otherwise it was 95% the same. And the people! Crowds of them! The difference from the U.S.? No one was rude, no one muttered about the gays walking by, and no one stared at my tattoos like I was a traveling circus act. Absolutely no one cared. It was glorious.
But my favorite discovery? Christmas decorations. Nearly every store had something festive: ornaments, decorated trees, small Santas, and gigantic Santas. What they didn’t have were nativities. Uruguay is very secular, and honestly, it shows in the best way. Christmas—Family Day here—is about kindness, connection, and joy, not religious performance art.
And yes, they go straight from Halloween (still up-and-coming but catching on) into Christmas. And no, I did not move to another country to abandon Halloween. I’ve already made it my mission to get at least one (it can be cute) Halloween decoration into every home. BOO!
Eventually, Mikey led us to a market that was basically a small city under one roof. Endless aisles, vendors selling everything imaginable: fresh meat, fresh fish, wine, pet supplies, gelato, and entire restaurants tucked between stalls. We wandered around like happy tourists (minus the expensive cameras) who had no intention of buying anything and then bought lunch anyway.
The burgers were… different. Very different.
The patties were thick—like “did someone just hand-shape these five minutes ago?” thick. We foolishly ordered doubles, expecting American-style thin patties. Big mistake. Huge. The vegetables were incredible (Uruguay may be the land where tomatoes actually taste like tomatoes), but I had three minor grievances:
There was a fried egg on top. This is normal here, but I don’t do eggs. So Mikey ended up with a two-egg tower of protein joy.
You needed to unhinge your jaw to get a bite. I’m adventurous, but I draw the line at snake cosplay.
It was messy. The patties slid, the bun got soggy, and if you know me, you know that “sliding” and “soggy” are my culinary dealbreakers. Once that happens, I’m out.
One thing we’ve noticed: whenever someone speaks ingles here, they apologize and say, “My English is not so good.”Girl, Ima thinking, you should hear me speak espanol. I couldn’t even find water sin (without) gas and sin minerals. That’s the level we’re working with.
Still, we are loving our little adventures. Next stop: Centro Parque.
And just so we’re clear—when I compare things to the U.S., I’m not trashing the U.S. I’m just giving you a point of reference. Although… okay… my comments about the people here vs. the people there might have been a tiny bit shady.
Thanks for reading to the end. Until next time!
