To my knowledge there are seven football clubs called Everton in the world: the one in Liverpool, one in Chile (that I visited back in May), one in Uruguay and four in Argentina.
During my final week in South America I wanted to visit a couple more.
After a week in Buenos Aires the trip back over the Rio Plata to Uruguay probably came at the right time. BA is a city that sucks you in, particularly with its amazing nightlife, and my liver had begun to take a bit of a battering. Detox time in sleepy Uruguay, then.
I went back the way I'd arrived, by catamaran. A short three-hour trip across the straits and I was in Colonia del Sacremento, one of Uruguay's top tourist towns.
I hadn't booked any accommodation so took a ten-minute walk from the dock to the town. The walk took me through quiet streets lined with golden-leaved trees:
There seemed to be no-one about. The only thing missing from the scene was a tumbleweed silently blowing across my path.
It's autumn/winter in Uruguay at the moment and there was a nip in the air. People were sweeping away bundles of leaves from the front of their doors, scarves wrapped around their necks to keep out the cold. It felt like a provincial English town in November.
But there was little English about Colonia's small historical centre. After I checked into a spookily quiet hostel, where the woman on reception seemed completely shocked to have a guest standing in front of her, I took a short walk into town.
I believe Colonia is Uruguay's oldest settlement, and you could see that in the unevened cobbled streets that wound their way through the attractive centro historico:
Most of the small shops and restaurants were closed, due to siesta or the fact that there were about three tourists currently in Colonia. It felt like I had the town to myself.
So with nothing to do, no-one about and nothing open I took the only option and walked around the place. For hours.
I took pictures of some classic cars, like this:
And this one, sat outside an aquarium and driven by some fish:
Colonia is situated on the river, so I went down to the small harbour:
Again, I was the only person there - it was like I'd stepped into the Uruguayan Twin Peaks.
With nobody about to take my picture, and wanting a record of my visit to Colonia, I took a snap of myself squinting into the sun:
So I killed time by wandering aimlessly and waited for a restaurant to open. I had walked past four or five places that were closed, and didn't look like they'd be opening anytime soon.
Worried that I was going to go to bed hungry in this strange ghost town, I walked into a shop (that sold camping equipment, to nobody) and asked if there was a restuarant open anywhere.
The woman, again surprised to be confronted by another human being, took a second to compose herself before giving me directions to a place a few blocks away. I walked there and found a social club; old men were playing chess and drinking thimble-fulls of dark spirits.
However, there was a food menu and a couple of locals were actually eating food. Result.
I sat down, ordered a variety of things that had no connection to each other (spring rolls, tuna salad, lasagne) and stuffed myself. It seemed that in Uruguay you should eat, and fill yourself, when you get the chance.
In the morning I had a spring in my step as I checked out and walked to the bus station near the dock. I was off to a place called Rosario, an hour inland, to visit one of the seven Evertons.
The bus journey took about an hour, including a random change of bus on the side of the dual carriageway, and I was soon being dropped off in Rosario's main square.
I had again arrived in a place without accommodation but, unlike tourist-friendly Colonia, Rosario was very much a regular Uruguyuan town that didn't seem to experience many visitors - except curious English Evertonians like me.
So I wandered up and down the streets of the town looking for somewhere to stay. I had been walking for almost an hour, without sight of a posada or a hotel, when I walked into a restaurant and asked a woman if there were any hotels in Rosario.
She pointed down the street, to the one area I had not yet covered, and told me that there was a hotel there. I walked down and was soon checked into the Hotel Rosario, a nondescript motel-like place with dark corridors and a roaring fire in the hallway.
I had already made contact with the vice-president of Club Atletico Everton via John Shearon. If you've already read my post about my visit to the Chilean Everton you'll know that a group of Everton fans came over to visit the the South American Evertons in 2009.
John was one of those fans, and he also set up The Ruleteros Society in 2002 as a way to tie together the various Evertons around the world.
I phoned Jorge, the vice-president, and arranged to be picked up later at the hotel. I therefore had a few hours to spare and spent the time having a great lunch and then taking in some of the street murals that are a trademark of Rosario:
Soon it was evening, and the friendly face of Jorge met me at my hotel. Luckily he could speak English as my Spanish is still at a basic level. We got in his car and drove off towards the edge of town.
Club Atletico Everton (or CAE as I will call them from now on) had played a match just two days before my visit, a match I had planned to go to before I heard about the Boca Juniors match happening in BA.
It was a tough decision to make: CAE or Boca, but watching a Boca game had always been something I just had to do. In the event, CAE had played out a 0-0 draw in their second game of the season.
CAE are very much an amateur club and play in a six-team league with other teams from Rosario. Jorge proudly told me that CAE have more matchgoing fans than any of the other clubs, and are renowned for their battling qualities on the pitch.
First up, he drove me to a small training pitch where several of the players and a couple of coaches were just starting their evening training session. Despite being an amateur side, with players holding down regular jobs, the skill and fitness of the players was impressive.
I enjoyed leathering the ball at the keeper a couple of times, luckily not embarrassing myself, and the coach even joked that I should stick around and play for the team at the weekend.
I think the players were probably wondering what this foreign body was doing watching them training, but they were in good spirits and were happy to pose for a pic:
Afterwards Jorge and I drove to the other end of the small town to visit the headquarters of CAE. Even though I wasn't going to see a match, and the club does not own its own stadium, I knew that they owned a proper (social) club all of their own - and visiting it was the reason for my return visit to Uruguay.
There are sporting clubs all over South America like CAE, places where members of the community congregate, play sport, organise events and have a beer. However, I doubt any give a friendlier welcome than the one given to me in Rosario.
As soon as we walked through the door, Jorge was introducing me to the guys settled around the bar, explaining the reason for my visit. Everyone I met seemed genuinely interested in why I had travelled there, asking me questions (via Jorge The Interpreter) and telling me about the history of their club.
The reason I had come on a Tuesday was because that was the night when the committee who run CAE hold their weekly meeting. I was taken past the recreation pitch out the back of the bar, which the club have fought hard to win a improvement grant for, and upstairs to the small office where the meetings take place.
In the room were the various members of the committee, many of them ex-players of the club - like Jorge, who had played for CAE for over twenty years until age caught up with him. The guys gave me the current season's shirt to try on, which I wore before getting a photo of myself and Jorge:
I was then surprised to receive a CAE pennant from the committee as a gift to mark my visit. This is me with the most recent two club presidents:
I was chuffed with how they had welcomed me into their club - great guys all working their hardest (for no pay) in order to keep CAE going. I got a final snap upstairs with the whole committee...
...before heading downstairs to enjoy a drink with some more of the locals.
CAE has a proud history and I took my time walking round the clubhouse looking at old photos, plaques and an impressive trophy cabinet. Here are just some of them:
I love that massive trophy. It makes the European Cup look like a pint pot.
After the committee had finished the meeting upstairs, they came down to the bar where we shared another beer before sitting down to eat. With jokes flying (mainly banter between those who support Penarol and those who support Olimpia), we were given plate after plate of sausages, steak, cheese and more.
I was introduced to various people, including some players who held semi-legendary status in these parts - and who were still heavily involved in the club.
This is me and a guy who had the nickname of 'flea' during his player career - a name given to him because of his ability to irritate defenders, and his diminutive size:
The previous visit by John and the other Evertonians clearly made a big impression as all the guys in the bar enjoyed recounting stories from that visit - mainly involving nightclub shenanigans and Evertonians walking around wintery Rosario in T-shirts.
The final act of kindness on a night to remember was when the current coach presented me with a green-and-yellow CAE ship in a bottle, and a selection of stickers from the club.
The welcome that I received at CAE was something else. John had described them as 'good lads', and that's what they were. A great bunch of people working hard to keep the famous name of Everton alive and kicking in Uruguay.
During my final week in South America I wanted to visit a couple more.
After a week in Buenos Aires the trip back over the Rio Plata to Uruguay probably came at the right time. BA is a city that sucks you in, particularly with its amazing nightlife, and my liver had begun to take a bit of a battering. Detox time in sleepy Uruguay, then.
I went back the way I'd arrived, by catamaran. A short three-hour trip across the straits and I was in Colonia del Sacremento, one of Uruguay's top tourist towns.
I hadn't booked any accommodation so took a ten-minute walk from the dock to the town. The walk took me through quiet streets lined with golden-leaved trees:
There seemed to be no-one about. The only thing missing from the scene was a tumbleweed silently blowing across my path.
It's autumn/winter in Uruguay at the moment and there was a nip in the air. People were sweeping away bundles of leaves from the front of their doors, scarves wrapped around their necks to keep out the cold. It felt like a provincial English town in November.
But there was little English about Colonia's small historical centre. After I checked into a spookily quiet hostel, where the woman on reception seemed completely shocked to have a guest standing in front of her, I took a short walk into town.
I believe Colonia is Uruguay's oldest settlement, and you could see that in the unevened cobbled streets that wound their way through the attractive centro historico:
Most of the small shops and restaurants were closed, due to siesta or the fact that there were about three tourists currently in Colonia. It felt like I had the town to myself.
So with nothing to do, no-one about and nothing open I took the only option and walked around the place. For hours.
I took pictures of some classic cars, like this:
And this one, sat outside an aquarium and driven by some fish:
Colonia is situated on the river, so I went down to the small harbour:
Again, I was the only person there - it was like I'd stepped into the Uruguayan Twin Peaks.
With nobody about to take my picture, and wanting a record of my visit to Colonia, I took a snap of myself squinting into the sun:
So I killed time by wandering aimlessly and waited for a restaurant to open. I had walked past four or five places that were closed, and didn't look like they'd be opening anytime soon.
Worried that I was going to go to bed hungry in this strange ghost town, I walked into a shop (that sold camping equipment, to nobody) and asked if there was a restuarant open anywhere.
The woman, again surprised to be confronted by another human being, took a second to compose herself before giving me directions to a place a few blocks away. I walked there and found a social club; old men were playing chess and drinking thimble-fulls of dark spirits.
However, there was a food menu and a couple of locals were actually eating food. Result.
I sat down, ordered a variety of things that had no connection to each other (spring rolls, tuna salad, lasagne) and stuffed myself. It seemed that in Uruguay you should eat, and fill yourself, when you get the chance.
In the morning I had a spring in my step as I checked out and walked to the bus station near the dock. I was off to a place called Rosario, an hour inland, to visit one of the seven Evertons.
The bus journey took about an hour, including a random change of bus on the side of the dual carriageway, and I was soon being dropped off in Rosario's main square.
I had again arrived in a place without accommodation but, unlike tourist-friendly Colonia, Rosario was very much a regular Uruguyuan town that didn't seem to experience many visitors - except curious English Evertonians like me.
So I wandered up and down the streets of the town looking for somewhere to stay. I had been walking for almost an hour, without sight of a posada or a hotel, when I walked into a restaurant and asked a woman if there were any hotels in Rosario.
She pointed down the street, to the one area I had not yet covered, and told me that there was a hotel there. I walked down and was soon checked into the Hotel Rosario, a nondescript motel-like place with dark corridors and a roaring fire in the hallway.
I had already made contact with the vice-president of Club Atletico Everton via John Shearon. If you've already read my post about my visit to the Chilean Everton you'll know that a group of Everton fans came over to visit the the South American Evertons in 2009.
John was one of those fans, and he also set up The Ruleteros Society in 2002 as a way to tie together the various Evertons around the world.
I phoned Jorge, the vice-president, and arranged to be picked up later at the hotel. I therefore had a few hours to spare and spent the time having a great lunch and then taking in some of the street murals that are a trademark of Rosario:
Soon it was evening, and the friendly face of Jorge met me at my hotel. Luckily he could speak English as my Spanish is still at a basic level. We got in his car and drove off towards the edge of town.
Club Atletico Everton (or CAE as I will call them from now on) had played a match just two days before my visit, a match I had planned to go to before I heard about the Boca Juniors match happening in BA.
It was a tough decision to make: CAE or Boca, but watching a Boca game had always been something I just had to do. In the event, CAE had played out a 0-0 draw in their second game of the season.
CAE are very much an amateur club and play in a six-team league with other teams from Rosario. Jorge proudly told me that CAE have more matchgoing fans than any of the other clubs, and are renowned for their battling qualities on the pitch.
First up, he drove me to a small training pitch where several of the players and a couple of coaches were just starting their evening training session. Despite being an amateur side, with players holding down regular jobs, the skill and fitness of the players was impressive.
I enjoyed leathering the ball at the keeper a couple of times, luckily not embarrassing myself, and the coach even joked that I should stick around and play for the team at the weekend.
I think the players were probably wondering what this foreign body was doing watching them training, but they were in good spirits and were happy to pose for a pic:
Afterwards Jorge and I drove to the other end of the small town to visit the headquarters of CAE. Even though I wasn't going to see a match, and the club does not own its own stadium, I knew that they owned a proper (social) club all of their own - and visiting it was the reason for my return visit to Uruguay.
There are sporting clubs all over South America like CAE, places where members of the community congregate, play sport, organise events and have a beer. However, I doubt any give a friendlier welcome than the one given to me in Rosario.
As soon as we walked through the door, Jorge was introducing me to the guys settled around the bar, explaining the reason for my visit. Everyone I met seemed genuinely interested in why I had travelled there, asking me questions (via Jorge The Interpreter) and telling me about the history of their club.
The reason I had come on a Tuesday was because that was the night when the committee who run CAE hold their weekly meeting. I was taken past the recreation pitch out the back of the bar, which the club have fought hard to win a improvement grant for, and upstairs to the small office where the meetings take place.
In the room were the various members of the committee, many of them ex-players of the club - like Jorge, who had played for CAE for over twenty years until age caught up with him. The guys gave me the current season's shirt to try on, which I wore before getting a photo of myself and Jorge:
I was then surprised to receive a CAE pennant from the committee as a gift to mark my visit. This is me with the most recent two club presidents:
I was chuffed with how they had welcomed me into their club - great guys all working their hardest (for no pay) in order to keep CAE going. I got a final snap upstairs with the whole committee...
...before heading downstairs to enjoy a drink with some more of the locals.
CAE has a proud history and I took my time walking round the clubhouse looking at old photos, plaques and an impressive trophy cabinet. Here are just some of them:
I love that massive trophy. It makes the European Cup look like a pint pot.
After the committee had finished the meeting upstairs, they came down to the bar where we shared another beer before sitting down to eat. With jokes flying (mainly banter between those who support Penarol and those who support Olimpia), we were given plate after plate of sausages, steak, cheese and more.
I was introduced to various people, including some players who held semi-legendary status in these parts - and who were still heavily involved in the club.
This is me and a guy who had the nickname of 'flea' during his player career - a name given to him because of his ability to irritate defenders, and his diminutive size:
The previous visit by John and the other Evertonians clearly made a big impression as all the guys in the bar enjoyed recounting stories from that visit - mainly involving nightclub shenanigans and Evertonians walking around wintery Rosario in T-shirts.
The final act of kindness on a night to remember was when the current coach presented me with a green-and-yellow CAE ship in a bottle, and a selection of stickers from the club.
The welcome that I received at CAE was something else. John had described them as 'good lads', and that's what they were. A great bunch of people working hard to keep the famous name of Everton alive and kicking in Uruguay.