Comparative Luxury in La Paloma

The guilt was worth it though. For three days we wallowed in the rare privilege of a hotel room. Get this- we had a warm double bed, a clean, private bathroom, a wood-panelled fridge that periodically shuddered in and out of life, a balcony, a tv and the privacy to run around as naked as God surely had intended. You take these things as given in the real world; rights- constant and unchanging. But not in this act. Here you deal with wafer thin single beds, cold and slimy bathrooms, mouldy fridges infested with untold amounts of ancient mayonnaise, "Friends" on the TV and barely a second to yourself. So, a private room in a hotel... a rare taste of civilisation in an uncivilised lifestyle. For three days we skipped 70 channels searching for something in English, had picnics on the bed and washed away the grime of 10 weeks in dorms in complete and utter privacy. Not once did someone bust into our room asking where we were from and if we wanted to buy cocaine. Bliss....


I spent most of the time hunting for surf, and hunting for the required gear for me to be able to ride that surf. In the end, the wind and swell would not cooperate, and we left without me having a chance to get in the ocean. We went for a walk around the point, which seemed to be the 'better' part of town. This area was made up of fastidiously unrenovated homes- there was not an added on porch or car-port to be seen. And all the places were in perfect condition, they looked as new as they would have when they were built back in the sixties. Lots of crisp, pastel American angles and planes contrasted with natural stone feature walls. Like the Brady Bunch house but in bite-sized portions. This place was an suburban architectural time capsule, as cute and sinless as pie.


Eventually, the absence of cooked food forced us to retreat to more inhabited places. The lack of people meant a lack of open restaurants (at least, restaurants that were turning over fresh ingredients), and as the hotel didn't have a kitchen for us, the closest thing we ate to comida caliente during our stay was the coffee that came with breakfast each morning. We did make some serious headway in the field of hotel room food preparation (bruschetta assembled and served on plastic bags was a major triumph), but a food pyramid consisting of Doritos (we consumed the towns entire supply) and alfajores (ridiculously sweet double biscuit things) sent us packing back to Punta Del Este.

It wasn't as good as it looks...