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Published: April 16th 2009
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When buying the bus ticket to my latest location, I could barely keep the grin off my face. In fact, I'm fairly sure I didn't, as the guy behind the counter looked at me in a very strange way as I said "Uno a Fray Bentos por favor". Yup thats right. Fray Bentos. Despite the fact I think their products are of dubious quality, how could I not come to a town that had pies named after it?
But before we get there, I must make brief comment on my bus journey from Cordoba to Uruguay. You see, until now, the fanciest I had been on a bus was semi-cama, the basic option for overnight journeys. But that wasn't available here, so instead I went cama, enjoying a fully reclining seat, a hot meal accompanied by a glass of wine, followed by a tumbler full of whisky just before bed. Very swish. I got off this bus in Paysandu at 5am, and had a fun 3 hours getting some Uruguayan money in the early hours, before the aforementioned bus to Fray Bentos.
As a town, Fray Bentos isn't really on the backpacking trail, a fact made clear by the
Monument to Corned Beef
It really is believe it or not lack of a single hostel. Faced with the prospect of a priceyish (11 quid) hotel room, I decided to make my way to the campsite. This was near-perfect, just out of town, and I could pitch my tent right on the banks of the river. The only problem was that the site was deserted. But 11 quid is 11 quid, so I locked my stuff inside, and hoped the good folk of Fray Bentos would leave it be.
Apart from the name, I'd also visited the town to go to the old meat factory, which is now a museum. I turned up at the appointed hour for a guided tour, mainly hoping for lots of things saying Fray Bentos for me to chuckle at. Now, you wouldn't have thought that a tour of a slaughterhouse was a family activity, but at least 50 other folks, including kids, decided to spend the start of their Easter weekend with me in there. They really do love their beef round here. Sadly the tour was all in Spanish, and she spoke too quickly and quietly for me to have the foggiest what was going on. Still, she said Fray Bentos now and
again, so it wasn't a complete let down.
Walking back into town, I passed a monument that I'd not stopped and looked at on the way in. Reading the inscriptions, I realised that this was not any ordinary monument, but one commemmorating corned beef. I paid my humble respects, thinking of corned beef I've enjoyed over the years, and continued on my way.
I now had the rest of the day with nothing planned. So, after a brief walk round looking for other Fray Bentos related photos to take (favourite being discovering Fray Bentos FC actually exist), and a happy moment when I discovered the first steet called England I've found in South America, I sat by the banks of the river to watch the sunset. Aaah. Later on, it turned out my campsite had turned into a youth club, but they left me to sleep while they smoked sneaky cigarettes and discussed the best way to make pies.
Stewart
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