Argentina to Brazil

Argentina To Brazil

22^nd August 2012

Last night didn’t exactly go smoothly. I was up half the night feeling ill. It must be a cold or flu coming on. Just what you want while traveling! All I want is my nice warm, comfy bed to snuggle up in and sleep.

We’re leaving Puerto de Iguazu, crossing the Argentinian board and into Brazil to Foz do Iguacu. The bus ride is only eight Argentinian pesos, about US$2. Eve and her friend Steph should be arriving late tonight.

Checking out of our little cabin at 10.15, we dragged our cases down the road towards the bus terminal. Quickly checking in a few of the bus companies, none had a bus route to Montevideo, or anywhere in Uruguay for that matter. One company suggested I take three long distance bus rides, two across Argentina and one to Montevideo. Total time on the bus: 30 hours. No, thank you!

It’s hard to believe that no one has a bus service to Uruguay. It’s the only South American country they don’t travel to. Ok, we know the place is a tiny dot on the map but, come on!

First stop on the bus was to pass through Argentinian customs. Luggage must go with you too. It’s a two minute stop, in one door, passport stamped, out another and back on the bus.

Two minutes later and we make our second, longer stop. This time at Brazilian customs. All of us had to fill out Entry Visa papers, get that stamped plus your passport and then wait for another bus. There was a large group of us waiting outside Brazilian customs for about 45 minutes for the bus to arrive. All of us huddled under a tree, staying out of the fierce sun.

Loading our luggage onto the bus again, we started the final part of the bus ride into Foz do Iguacu. Compared to the Argentinian side, the Brazilian is incredibly run down and surprisingly, there’s obviously a lot of poverty.

Not long after we’d entered Brazil there were a couple of surgeries offering everything from implants to botox to liposuctions! I couldn't help but smile to myself.

All of a sudden, the driver slammed on the brakes and the bus screeched harshly to an abrupt halt. Hernan and I were standing and had to quickly grab onto something, anything in front of us. I went crashing into a metal railing in front of me. Turns out, someone on a push bike had cycled out from a side street and crossed over the main road without looking! The bus very narrowly missed him!

Off the bus we had to find out where the hell our hostel is. Hostel Klein. We didn’t have an address or contact number. Hernan popped into the Tourist Information Centre at the bus terminal and got a pamphlet for Hostel Klein. It looks like it’s a well-known place. We couldn’t call as we didn’t have any Reales for the phone, so we decided it’d be best to just get a cab as it was too far to walk.

Walking down the road, looking for a taxi, we bumped into someone who worked for the Tourist Information Centre, who took us to the taxi rank and called for a cab. While waiting we were told a few do's and don’ts about Foz do Iguacu and Brazil.

In Brazil, it’s illegal to hail taxis and for a taxi to pick you up at the side of the road. This is apparently due to the large amount of illegal taxis, many of whom will rob you of everything. The only place to get a taxi is at a designated taxi rank.

Don’t get a taxi over the bridge from Foz do Iguacu to Cuidad del Este, Paraguay. Cuidad del Este is a famous tax free area, popular with tourists shopping for cheap electrical items. Many cross the Brazilian and Argentinian boarders simply to shop for the day. Getting back to the story, many taxis, while crossing over to Brazil or Paraguay, depending on which way you’re going, get held up by armed gangs, half way over the bridge. When you think of Brazil, you mainly think about thieves being tooled up with guns, but we are told they just carry knives, big knives and they won’t think twice about using them on you either. Nice to know! Needless to say, you’ll be robbed of absolutely everything! Of course, the taxi drivers, some legal while others not so legal, are in on the deal and will contact the thieves before setting off.

Fede’s Portuguese has amazed all of us. We imagined he spoke a fair amount due to working on the Mariner of the Seas during Brazilian season, but we certainly didn’t expect him to speak so much and have the ability to hold a conversation about anything other than taking someone’s photo!

Driving through the town, well, city, we headed towards our hostel. Foz do Iguacu is a rundown mess compared to Puerto de Iguazu, Argentina. Poor and run down. Finding the hostel didn’t take too long, but we weren’t exactly optimistic when we saw where we were heading. The area looked one step up from a shanty town, in fact, there were a few partially made (mismatch tin roofs, make shift doors etc.) houses around us.

Pulling up outside Hostel Klein, we were letting off more than a few nervous giggles and “where the hell have the girls booked us into?” The taxi driver really knew how to boost our optimism, telling us “This place isn’t safe. Do you want me to take you somewhere closer to the city centre? The city is dangerous, but this is even worse. You can’t go out here during the evening. Are you sure you don’t want me to take you somewhere else? Somewhere better?” Declining, we pulled our bags out of the car boot and headed towards the entrance of Hostel Klein feeling rather dubious, I might add.

Hostel Klein, the first thing that you notice about the place is the two metre high wall surrounding the perimeter. On top of that, are the two sets of wires on top of the wall with numerous warning signs “Electric – May Cause Death”. Ringing the intercom with camera, we were allowed through the large security gate to be met at the front door. As you can imagine, we were glowing with enthusiasm!

Going to our “room” to drop our luggage off, Hernan summed it up in one word: Orphanage. We were staying in the equivalent of an orphanage. One large room (which we later found out was originally a garage) with 13, small single beds lining the walls. In one corner was a small bathroom for us. 

As it’s out of season, the five of us, when the girls arrive, will probably have the room to ourselves. Thank God! I may sound like a snob, but I don’t fancy sharing a room with a bunch of strangers, especially with a Canon 5D Mark II stuffed into my backpack! As Hernan commented on the way over “you’re not cut out for this type of traveling.”

Next stop was the shopping centre to change Dollars to Reales and get something to eat. We were starving!

Imagine this room with twice as many beds!