Adventures in Uruguay
With 6 full days in Buenos Aires, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to dart across the Riviere de la Plata and spend a day exploring Colonia del Sacramento, Uruguay. Uruguay is, in all honestly, a country I knew nothing about, nor did I ever imagine I’d visit. After wandering around the town for a few hours and with only an hour before our ferry was scheduled to depart, we decided we wanted to venture to an area just outside of town, to see the Plaza de Torros, a now abandoned bullring built in the early 1900’s. We could’ve flagged a taxi, or rented a scooter, as so many other daytrippers had done and were buzzing all over town. But I’m always bent on the cheapest way of doing things, as is Trista. And so, with only an hour left in Uruguay, we opted to wait for the public bus, which we didn’t expect should take very long. After ten minutes with no bus, I started looking agitatedly at my watch – our minutes left in Uruguay were ticking by. I never ride public transportation in Nashville- ever– so in my mind, buses should magically appear every 5 minutes. When that didn’t happen, my anxiety grew. As a lover of foreign architecture, I really wanted to see the Plaza de Torros – but I didn’t want to get stuck in Uruguay with nothing but my passport. I saw a bus appear over the horizon. I lept from the bench excitedly, completely ignoring the bus number. I wanted to get on it simply because at least it was going somewhere, but the old Uruguayan woman also waiting at our stop wagged her finger at me. I took a deep breath and sat back down. Finally, the old public bus bearing the correct number came bumbling up the hill, creaking to a slow stop in front of us. We ambled to the back of the bus, where we were met by stares from locals. Tourists must use the scooters, evidently. As the bus sputtered down the road, taking us further and further out of town, I looked at the neighborhoods, dingy with Latin American spirit from years of dirt kicking up off the dusty road. Traffic lights were nonexistent, street signs were rusty from years of rain and wind, making it impossible for us to follow along on our map. It was the real Uruguay, not polished for tourist eyes. After a good 15 minute ride, the bus stopped at the Plaza del Torros, and we took in the bizarre sight of a Coliseum set in the middle of a quiet neighborhood. Much to our dismay,...
Living With Hippies in Wellington
Travelling isn’t a series of endless awesome moments – at least, not in the world of the budget traveler. There are interesting moments that are uncomfortable to live through, but make for somewhat amusing life lessons later. Such was the day I lived with hippies. Rewind: May, 2010. Wellington had won me over. The moment I stepped off the bus and found myself at the corner of Courtenay Place and Cambridge, I was in love. The weather was far colder than that of Sydney and the wind was harsh — but there was something about Wellington – the charm, the friendly atmosphere, the touristy excitement of Wellywood, the endless amount of Lord of the Rings tours to choose from – and I knew I could settle in this corner of the world for awhile and be contented. My first night in Wellington, I struck couchsurfing gold with a young couple named Charlotte and Vaughan. By this point, I’d become used to the concept of couchsurfing and the idea of just wandering into an unknown place, making new friends, and adjusting immediately. Charlotte and Vaughan had only hosted one other person a few months earlier, so the whole idea was still new to them and they were friendly and accommodating with a nervous excitement. Charlotte and I hit it off, as we both worked in production. She worked at a local TV station, and we both had a love for travel that was difficult to fund, given our limited incomes. The night I stayed with them, Charlotte and I went for pizza on Cuba Street (awesome part of the city with dozens of quaint shops and restaurants; the pizza wasn’t so impressive). Before turning in for the night, I checked the location of my host for the following night. He lived in Island Bay, which was about a 10-15 minute bus ride out of the part of town I’d come to love. Staying with Charlotte and Vaughan another night wasn’t an option, as they were planners that had only anticipated housing me for one night. But Charlotte was still gracious and offered to drive me out there the next afternoon. After a nice day of some solo walking around the trails of Mt. Victoria, I packed up my things and Charlotte drove me out to Island Bay. She’d looked up the address and we were searching amongst the numerous houses to find it. At long last, we discovered an older, white house hidden by overgrown trees. The white paint on the house was severely chipped, and there was no door to be seen on the front of the house– but we’d...
Travelling, just not Writing…
I don’t think I could be a full-on travel blogger. At least, not the sort that blogs WHILE she travels. I have a large amount of respect for those who do, since I don’t know when they find the time to do so! My days have been crammed with sight-seeing, dinners, and in the evenings, I’ll do research on where else I should go, or I’ll throw back a beer with an old friend or get to know my new hostel roommates, and send a few texts back home to update the troops, and sometimes I’ll Skype with Gunner and then it’s time for sleep. There are numerous posts in my brain I’d love to share, but I don’t see it happening while I’m in transit. I’m a rambler and somewhat of an over-corrector, which is a bad combination when you are trying to sketch a decent post out in under half an hour. But, I will say this: Our America to the South is under-rated. Brazil captured my heart, Iguazu Falls is the place we hope exists when we envision undiscovered frontiers, and Buenos Aires deserves a place alongside most European cities. It’s remarkable here, for reasons I hope to share once I’m home and dreaming of returning. And heck, it’s 90 degrees in January! Much love, and Happy New Year from the Paris of the South!,...
Finding Adventure in the Deep South
Instead of going to Texas as my previous post suggested, I’ve figured out how I’m going to spend my time off without spending it all chugging along on the interstate and refueling every 400 miles, but still reaching my intended destinations (Hattiesburg – to visit Gunner; Atlanta – to visit family for Thanksgiving). The Natchez Trace The Natchez Trace is a scenic route beginning in Nashville (conveniently) and ending in the southwestern corner of Mississippi in a little town called Natchez. It winds through Civil War battlefields and other historical stops such as Elvis Presley’s birthplace and where Meriwether Lewis is buried. Since Gunner moved to Mississippi two years ago, it’s been a drive I’ve been meaning to explore. I’ll leave Tuesday morning and bumble along the Trace until early afternoon, stopping occasionally along the way. Surprisingly, Wikipedia has provided me with the most succinct and helpful information regarding what sites can be found along the Trace. I’m planning on staying in Tupelo one night and in Jackson or Vicksburg the following night, while spending a few hours taking in each city. I’ll then meander around Natchez on Thursday morning/afternoon and arrive in Hattiesburg on Thursday night. An autumn day on the Natchez Trace Hattiesburg Although completing the Natchez Trace takes me a few hours out of my way, I’ll loop back around to Hattiesburg on Thursday evening once Gunner is done with his scholastic obligations. I’ll hang out in Hattiesburg for about a week, spending some much-needed time with Gunner that isn’t at the rendezvous point in Birmingham. Finding adventure IN Hattiesburg will be a challenge I haven’t worked out yet; I’ve been there numerous times and while I love it because Gunner is there, I often want to poke my eyes out when Gunner goes to work and I’m left alone, as there isn’t much to quench the adventurous spirit. and finally…the Amtrak experience I have family in Atlanta, and I was planning on driving from Hattiesburg to Atlanta for Thanksgiving, and then back to Hattiesburg– a drive I’ve done before, and it isn’t bad, but it’s 6 hours each way and I was looking for another option. So, what’s an American girl to do when airplanes are too expensive and a car ride just seems boring? Take the well-reputed, infamous American railway system, of course! Hattiesburg, also known as the Hub City, is home of an Amtrak station. I wouldn’t have known this if Gunner and I hadn’t gotten lost downtown the last time I was there and discovered the train station. Since learning this factoid, I’ve been trying to figure out how I can utilize this odd...
Time Off with No Passport
My employment on a series I’ve been on since June 13 came to an abrupt end yesterday afternoon when we kept hitting legal walls with our talent and locations. It became apparent that nothing would materialize before Monday, the day we were scheduled to shoot, and so, I cleaned off my desk and left, with no employment on the books until I return from my trip to South America on January 11th. A few weeks ago, I would’ve lept at the opportunity to have a full 2 months off — hello, more travel time! — but as it became apparent that I’d only have 3 weeks off around Christmas, I focused solely on my South America trip and finally began obtaining the dreaded Brazilian visa, and was grateful for the work at a time of year that traditionally has been dead. The Brazilian Visa There are several Brazilian consulates scattered across the United States – probably 6 or 8 in total – and they each cover a jurisdiction consisting of the surrounding 4-5 states. It takes 10-12 business days on average to process a Brazilian visa, with the exception of Atlanta, which takes a whopping 20-22 business days. I realized with horror that Tennessee falls under Atlanta’s jurisdiction. I’m joined at the hip to my passport — the thought of being without it for one month was terrifying to me. I pleaded with the folks at Travisa to allow me to send my application to Texas, which had a much quicker turnaround time, but was denied. Due to my work schedule, I knew I couldn’t pop down to Atlanta and try to get it done faster, so I conceded and mailed off the requirements to Travisa’s Atlanta office with a pleasant “Thank You!” note in hopes it would brighten the spirits of the consulate and they’d process my visa a bit faster. No luck. Travisa sent me an e-mail on November 1st letting me know my documents had been received and dropped off at the Brazilian consulate, and they would be picked up on November 28th. Well, whatever. I was to be in Nashville working, anyway, what would I need a passport for?… The Brazilian consulate in Atlanta, where my passport is being held captive for the next 3 weeks. (Thanks, Google street view!) Hello, Free Time With the legal debacles at work, I find myself sitting at home on the couch on a Friday already bored out of my mind. I’ve told myself all year that whenever I would be presented with a solid 2 weeks off, I was going to dart off to Costa...
A Weekend In Huntingburg, Indiana
New York City and Chicago may have some of the best museums, parks, shopping, and restaurants cuisines in the country — but I believe the American way of life is best discovered in small towns. The last shoot for the new show I’m working on required we travel to a cattle ranch located just outside of the quaint small town of Huntingburg, Indiana. Huntingburg is a charming small town located in southwestern Indiana, about an hour north of Evansville, an hour an a half west of Louisville, and two and a half hours southwest of Indianapolis. It’s a little off the map for anyone driving through the United States via interstates, but if you find yourself closeby, it’s definitely worth an afternoon. Surrounded by neighborhoods built in the 1950’s and thousands of acres of farmland, Huntingburg is a snapshot of life in the Midwest. I’ve been to this part of Indiana once before for work — and somehow, I missed the places that made me fall in love with the little town just a few days ago. The Main Tourist Draw: League Stadium “A League of Their Own” is a classic film, and it’s one of my favorite movies. I didn’t realize it until I saw a sign in a restaurant advertising the stadium– apparently, Huntingburg is home to the stadium where the movie was filmed. The location was chosen because the stadium had not been updated since the early 1900’s, and it was the best match for the era. League Stadium was donated to the community of Huntingburg upon the movie’s completion, and presently, it is the home of the Dubois County Bombers, a professional baseball team in the Prospect League. League Stadium is closed on Sundays, but is usually open during the week. The outfield wall is lined with advertisements made for the movie, and “Rockford Peaches” is painted on the stadium’s walls. Huntingburg Eats Fourth Street is the main drag in Huntingburg’s historical downtown, and it’s home to multiple small restaurants that all serve quality food. While I was in Huntingburg, we ate at: » Old School Sports Cafe: Best turkey chili I’ve ever had- the whole cafe is outfitted with jerseys and photographs from local teams. » Mama T’s Italian Food: We got the 4 for $24 for two massive dishes of pasta; it also comes with rolls and four warm, homemade cookies. I was overwhelmed by the size of the dishes! It’s EASILY enough to feed four people. We had the fettucine alfredo and spaghetti with meatballs, and both were delicious. I also had the sangria, which was a disappointment — merely...
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I'm Laryssa, and when I'm not working in film or television, I'm attempting to travel -- or I'm here, providing resources for working in film or travel. Read more Elsewhere on the internets
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