Where there’s art, there’s bound to be music and dance. But it doesn’t start well. We try to catch a traditional guitar performance in a classic old house, but for 20 minutes they just keep talking about how good the old instrument sounds instead of just showing us. We skip the Mexican breakdancing movie, and the Armenian folk dance never materializes.

We do enjoy a Samba de Mujeres traditional women’s dance to enthusiastic live music in the street. A large African-Uruguayo Candombe drum and dance troupe parade down another street, raising money for their participation in the month-long Carnival we’ll be returning here for in February. A smaller but equally-enthusiastic Murga troupe in bright fun costumes are likewise practising and raising money for Carnival, where they will continue the fine tradition of satirizing current events through song and recitation (another warning to Molly - they generally have “left-wing tendencies, subversive commentary and oppositional stance.”)

In Plaza Matriz, a woman demonstrates the Tango - alone or with someone from the crowd. And in the historic post office lobby, dozens of mostly older folks dance the Milonga, the musical and cultural precursor to the tango. Internet tells me it “evolved from a blend of Afro-Uruguayan candombe rhythms, rural gaucho payada singing, and European habanera/polka influences.” In a polite Uruguayan way it manages to be very sensual - the lingering sweep of her high-heeled foot across his shin, the arched-back dip. But while Hollywood tango looks like sex could break out right now on the dance floor, the more subtle dancers are leaving juicy hints of what might be on the table back home later tonight.