WEIGHT: 56 kg
Services: Moresomes, Ass licking, TOY PLAY, Golden shower (out), Massage anti-stress
All that's missing is tumbleweed. Garzon is like the ghost town of cinematic folklore — when a new road killed the railway, the town died. It is hard to imagine 2, people living here as recently as the Sixties. The old station stands abandoned, its ornate sign still out front, a cow tied up beside the ticket hall. But out here in the pampas, a half-hour drive from anywhere, are two unlikely signs of life: a corner deli, and the Garzon Hotel and Restaurant.
These are the first steps in celebrity chef Francis Mallmann's plan to turn the village into a more fashionable, exclusive spot than any in the nearby seaside resort of Jose Ignacio. Mallmann has turned an old general store into a five-room boutique hotel, with a garden and pool, decorated in pistachio and dark wood.
It's all deliberately rough: ersatz vintage quilted chintz trims the bathrobes; instead of sun loungers are simple mattresses that look like they've been plucked from a squat and decorated by Cath Kidston. The main attraction at Garzon is the restaurant, which charges the kind of prices you might find at a Ducasse or Robuchon. In Argentina and here in Uruguay, Mallmann is considered of the same calibre. And with the exception of a disappointingly tough octopus dish, I found the food to be fantastic.
It's simple, bold and muscular: baked peaches with Iberian ham and hazelnut; salted and oiled heirloom tomatoes; duck breast with pommes Anna, pear and tannat sauce. All meals, plus Finca La Anita wines from Argentina, are included in room rates. Given its remoteness, this is a place to check in and stay put.
Work your way through the menu while taking time out to read in the garden, ride horses, flick through The New Yorker by candlelight or explore the ghost town, for which Mallmann has grand designs another restaurant and luxury tents, each with its own butler.