Forever bus bored, as a last resort I turn to my drink carton for an informal Spanish lesson in all things juice-related. However, I am regrettably informed (in English) that my Latin American sugar rush is in fact owned by the mighty Coca-Cola Company. Sigh. This infamous logo brings with it images of slaughtered union workers in Colombia, drained farms in India, and a host of other sticky situations said company would prefer to hush up. And so I hastily blacklisted one more ´Argentine´ beverage, before entering Uruguay in the hope that this little nation had escaped such a partnership.
But rather than allowing Coca-Cola to subtly infiltrate its national drinks market, Uruguay has gone one step further, and stamped the garish logo all over it´s sandy soil.
Quiet beaches are presided over not by a trusty lifeguard or signs warning of terrible tides, but by Coca-Cola flags ten feet tall. The classic emerald green kioskos of Colonia have been painted over in the recogniseable red, whilst rusty brand memorabilia has infiltrated the charming clutter of antique stalls. Even the local rositerias have been united countrywide by one advertising board, detailing the delicious fresh pastries on sale, which must be washed down with a fizzy splash of e-numbers.
Uruguay is often regarded as living in the shadow of its giant southern neighbour. But in reality, is it not the imposing Coca-Cola umbrellas which are casting a darker shadow on the streets of Montevideo?
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