Apart from corned beef, its most famous food item was a meat extract, a product that in Britain became the crumbly cubes we know as Oxo.

“Nothing was wasted,” Sr Boretto explained. “Local people used to say that the only part of the cow that wasn’t used was its mugido.” He frowned, toying with the neck of his jumper while he searched for the English word. He smiled, puckered his lips and let out a deep moo.

SOME PEOPLE liken Uruguay to a city state: it’s essentially one metropolis, Montevideo, with the rest of the country acting like a huge ranch tacked on at the back. Fernando agrees. “Yes,” he said, “there is a big concentration of everything in the capital. They say that God is everywhere, but his office is in Montevideo.”

It wasn’t always thus. In 1873 they installed electric lights at the plant in Fray Bentos, three years before the technology reached the capital. And quite naturally they kept their best produce for themselves. When I asked Fernando whether Uruguayans ever ate corned beef, he laughed. “No,” he said, “we prefer steaks.”

On the back of such exports from the ranch, the country grew rich. During the first half of the 20th century, Uruguay was on a roll. The country won two World Cups and established the continent’s first welfare state. Many called it the Switzerland of South America. In keeping with their unprecedented prosperity, anyone who was anyone bought a car imported from Europe or the USA. Many still have them. Rural Uruguay is like a living motor museum.

Indeed, Fernando proved to be a bit of a classic-car connoisseur. When he first indicated an ancient Citroën, complete with running boards, and with a tin can on its roof — “that means it’s for sale,” he said — standing outside a farmhouse, I thought it was a one-off. But although there were few vehicles on the roads we travelled, I soon realised that close to half of them were at least 50 years old. At least. “A 1929 Chevrolet,” he’d blithely point out as a veteran jalopy trundled past, “and there goes a Model-A Ford.”

There were antiquated Daimlers, Buicks, Bentleys and Bugattis. Then, passing through a small town, I spotted an old Morris Minor Traveller with a wooden divide across its windscreen and indicators that flipped out like little orange hands. I was instantly transported to my childhood. I remember my father reversing one out of the drive when I was six or seven years old, and the door falling off thanks to an encounter with a bush. He tied it up with string and we still made it to school on time, but the venerable Morris was soon traded in for a smart new Austin. Here, in the town of Mercedes, its long-lost brother was alive and well and working in Uruguay.

How come there were so many historic cars on the roads? Fernando told me that it was not a big country, so nobody drove far. Petrol was expensive and Uruguay had excellent mechanics. “Besides,” he added, “these cars were built to last.” Later, someone told me that Uruguayans just don’t like throwing things away. They have a peculiar culture of conservation, he said, and they enjoy fixing things.

It’s also true that after the boom years, the economy foundered. Uruguay was forced into an era of frozen grandeur, and I could feel this wherever I drove on the unhurried country roads. It’s as if the émigrés from Europe signed up for the consumerist revolution and then decided to opt out. They supplied the world with corned beef and Oxo cubes, kick-started condensed milk and instant coffee, and then stood back and let the rest of us get on with it. Uruguayans are happy with their maté and steaks, and quite content to carry on driving their beloved old cars.

Nick Middleton travelled as a guest of Cox & Kings

Travel brief

Cox & Kings Travel (020 7873 5000, www.coxandkings.co.uk) offers tailor-made itineraries throughout the region; many visitors like to combine Uruguay and Buenos Aires in one trip. A seven-night holiday costs from £1,195pp, including four nights at the five-star Hotel Emperador in Buenos Aires, three nights at the five-star Four Seasons Resort in Carmelo, flights from Heathrow and private transfers. Regional add-ons from Belfast, Edinburgh, Glasgow, Leeds/Bradford, Manchester or Teesside are from £90 extra.

Or try Tim Best Travel (020 7591 0300, www.timbesttravel.com) or Journey Latin America (020 8747 8315, www.journeylatinamerica.co.uk).

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