MONTEVIDEO: ROBERT PATTISON

I'm sat having breakfast in the hippie commune in Punta del Diablo.  Me and Prue are feeling kind of fresh as we managed to go to sleep at the all so reasonable time of before 1am instead of 5am.  When I say sleep I'm using that term loosely as its very hard to get any sleep when you have a full live band playing directly below your room and then dance music after that until the early hours.  There was also some girl screaming like some one had been murdered at God knows what time, and then a stampede of people running to see what was going on.  For all I know some one could of been murdered' but by then I was in such a foul mood to really even care.  So yes! I was sort of feeling fresh that morning? While trying to eat some porridge oats with milk out of a mug (Yes! This is my breakfast!), one of the Uruguayan guys stomps up to me.  Its Martin.  Me and Prue are not his greatest fan, as one of the first things he said to us when we were introduced was that he "Hated English people!" (He sure know how to make a first good impression)?????  He also has a permanent scowl on his face, which makes me want to hit it a lot.  Me and Prue refer to him as "A Punk!"
"Hey! What's your Face Book name?" he abruptly says.  "And Good Morning to you Martin! Yes I'm find thanks!" I think to myself while looking at him and wanting to hit him again!
"Why?" I ask
"My friend wants to find you on Face Book!" he replies still in the same manner.
"Which friend?"
"My friend Nico!" he responds.  I look at him blank.
"The Croatian!" He continues.  I still look blank.
"The guy you where hanging out with the other night!" Something clicks in my head.
"Oh you mean Robert Pattison?" I say.
He looks blank for a minute and then begrudgingly says "Yes Robert Pattison!"
"Sorry I was really drunk! I actually don't remember his real name!" I say, thinking "How bad am I?"

A day or so later I go to an Internet cafe to check my emails and Face book.  There is a Face book request off a guy called Nicolas with unpronounceable surname.  I check his pictures.  It's Robert Pattison, though I don't think he actually looks like Robert Pattison, but the name has stuck now, and is in my head.  I except his friend request and think nothing more of it, as I only met him one night and he left early the next day. We had no Internet in Diablo unless we went to a cyber cafe, but we were far too busy doing things like getting a tan and drinking rum and coke, so we never really checked the Internet, which was actually quite nice for a couple of days.  We spent a night in Montevideo and the next day decided to get the bus and the ferry back to Buenos Aires.
"Carly! The bus has Wi-Fi" Said Prue as we sat there on another journey.
I decided to check my emails, and there it was, a very long message from Robert Pattison staying how much he had enjoyed meeting me, wanted to see me again and if I was in Montevideo I could stay with him and he would show me around.  "Shit!" I thought "Just typical! I'm on a bloody bus leaving Montevideo!" I wrote back and said I was leaving Uruguay for Buenos Aires and that I was sorry.  Like most stories in my life, it usually ends there, but this time it didn't.  Robert Pattison, would still write to me; everyday; lots of times in a day, and I to him.  To be honest I was a bit thrown at first.  You see in England, actually most men in the western world, you get a text message or face book response maybe three days after you have sent them something.  Well hey!  They don't want to seem too keen, as you might want to marry them and have their kids or something! God forbid!  This was a complete but refreshing change.  You say something: You get a response!  You ask something: you get a response! And guess what? I don't want to marry him or have his kids.  Amazing!  I think this is called "A normal conversation!" Robert Pattison was the first guy in a long time that was open.  He showed no cowardice or fear, or played any games.
I quoted at the beginning of this trip to South America a quote from Mark Twain.  I still stand by that quote:

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do."

So with that quote in my head, at the end of the week with the girls in Buenos Aires, I decided not to go Iguazu falls with them (I'd been before anyway) and packed my bag and returned to Montevideo.

I arrive at night.  I'm wondering if I will recognise him?  What if he isn't as I remembered?  What if he wasn't there? My bus was late! He might not be? I would just be stuck in a bus station in Montevideo on my own with no where to go.  I entered the bus station feeling a bit scared as I searched the faces of the crowd and there he was, and then everything felt OK.  I went to hug him and I instantly could tell he was shy.  He was quiet and wouldn't look me in the eye. I made most of the conversation, talking about lots of rubbish, like I normally do, as we took a taxi back to his house.  I was nervous too. Not only about meeting him but I had to meet his mother too!  Yes! His mother! You see Robert Pattison mum lives in his house too! I'd  been quite shocked when he first told me and had second thoughts about the visit, but it seems that most people live with their parents in Uruguay as the cost of living far out ways the wages.  I had in my head visions of some big Latin woman with huge breasts and a miserable face who would hate me from the minute she meet me because I was a Gringa and was with her son.  The reality couldn't have been more different.  Robert Pattison had told me his mother was cool (He calls her the gypsy woman) and he was right. Teresita, (Her name) which means little Theresa and couldn't be more fitting.  She was a small petite woman with big dark eyes  and a smile that could light up a room.  Even though she couldn't speak a word of English I instantly warmed to her.  She was friendly and warm and would bend over backwards for you.  She chatted constantly at me and I tried hard to understand what she was saying, of which most went over my head.
The other member of the family that I had to meet was the dog: McShooney!  Actually he wasn't called McShooney.  He had no name!  Mcshooney was a black mixed Labrador, who was blind in one eye.  Robert Pattison had found him in the street a couple of years ago and so had taken the stray home and he had been with them ever since.
"What do mean he has no name?" I asked shocked!
"No he doesn't" He says calmly smoking a cigarette "We just call him the dog!"
"Then why did you refer to him in an email to me as McShawney?"
"Oh! I just said that because it was like an English version of the noise he makes in Spanish."
I'm stood there confused now.  "Does the dog have a name or not? Well I'm just going to call him McShawney from now on because every one needs a name even a dog" I say.
McShawney is later modified to McShooney as that is how it sounds when Robert Pattison says it in his Latin accent.  So that is how a dog with no name became to be know as McShooney!

The more I get to know Robert Pattison the more I get to like him.  He is slightly crazy like me.  He is slightly eccentric like me and he is slightly geeky like me.  I find him very intelligent.  His English is amazing and there isn't anything he doesn't know about an computer.  He also has a great love of music too and we sit for hours on end listening to music  and exchanging notes.  Sometimes he whacks out the guitar as well of which he also good at playing.  I am quite happy in his company and am glad that I came back to Montevideo.

Another thing that Robert Pattison likes, like most South Americans is Football.  It is a religion over here, and they are fanatical about it, and I was about see, how fanatical. Robert Pattison was keen for me to watch his favourite team play: Peñerol, Uruguay's national champions. As I'm quite a keen football fan too, we arranged to go to a match one night against their biggest rivals Nacional.
"I got us tickets for the real supporters area behind the goal.  It is the best place to be" Robert Pattison told me.
As we were  entering the stadium (Which by the way held the first ever world cup final) Robert Pattison turns to me and says "Keep close to me!  There are some very bad and crazy people at these matches do not loose me." I look at him and think he is being over protective, I soon see he is not.  We walk up the steps to the inside of the stadium.  Its a mass of grey concrete and all I can hear is drums.  As we walk further up the stairs the drums get louder and at the top there is massive group of aggressive looking men, most them bare chested with tattoos all over them. They remind me of images I have seen of brutal Mexican gangs. They are cheering and shouting and in the centre of it all, men bang on drums like warriors going to war.  As a person that doesn't like admitting to ever being scared, at this moment I am petrified! I hold Robert Pattisons hand tight, as we try to find our way through the crowd, scared that if I let go I will not make it out.  We eventually find are way to part of the stand away from the central chaos and I can breath again.   We then wait for the match to begin.  What followed was every thing I expected from a South American football match and much more.  Peñerol and Nacional  hate each other, I mean really hate each other.  The teams come out to boos and hisses from each opposing sides fans.  Its at this point, that a flurry of fireworks and streamers (Probably toilet roll I think?) are let off and thrown and the stands of fans becomes a mass of light, music, cheers and movement and a beautiful sight to behold.  The match was kind of slow and I was finding what was going on off the pitch more interesting, like for example the man in front of us smoking the biggest joint you have ever seen, that I felt I was getting stoned from just by smelling it. There was also the vast array of bad tattoos and hair styles, which I couldn't help but stare at.  I mean it's 2014, who the Hell in their right mind thinks a permed mullet is OK? Robert Pattison has a little laugh to himself now and again as he listens the fans chant songs to the Nacional fans.  Now I really couldn't understand any of them apart from the fact that they wanted to do something bad to the Nacional's players mothers.  Hmmmm? The second half gets more interesting as Peñerol concede a penalty against Nacional.  This causes a bit of tension on the pitch as well as off it.  One of the players kicks or punches the an opposition player.  I'm not sure who started it as I'm too busy looking at a guy with a spikey mullet when the incident occurs.  From there on in things kind of escalate.  There is a lot of nose to nose shouting at one another and arm waving, until some one karate kicks someone and the whole sub bench joins in along with the management.  This is where the riot police come in to separate the two teams.  In the mean time the fans have climbed the barriers and are starting to try and climb the metal fortress that surrounds the pitch and after that they have to clear the moat. Yes you read right! The moat!  Football matches in South America is like full on warfare, so castle like defences are you used!  This goes on for some time, to the point that I feel the match will be stopped, but eventually they kiss and make up like good children and it continues.  The final result:
Peñerol: 0                           Naccional: 1
Did I enjoy it? Yes!  Warfare football is far more entertaining than the Premiere league any day.

Check out the match on this video clip.



After a week I had to go.  I had already stayed longer than I should of and I had to catch up with my friends.  So I sadly said goodbye to Teresita with the amazing smile and McShooney the dog with one blind eye.  Most of all I hated to say goodbye to Robert Pattison.  He came and saw me off to the bus station and was just as quiet as when I arrived there a week before, but this time it was different.  We were both sad.  It is never easy to say goodbye to anyone, but I feel like I spend most of life saying it to people, never to see them again.  I didn't want it this time.  I have grown so tired of it, but I had to get on the bus and so once again, it was goodbye.  Goodbye is part of being a traveller, but as I keep saying it is better to regret the things you have done than the things you haven't.  No regrets.  By the way, Robert Pattisons real name? Nico or Nicholas as his mother calls him.
Next stop Brazil!