Puerto Iguazú, Argentina - The Last Country

Okay, today we did not wake up late. But when we got up, it was late anyway. This is because we had no idea that Argentina is one hour ahead of Paraguay. So that really messed up our heads and we decided to save Iguazú Falls for tomorrow. We've heard they're amazing, spectacular, fantastic, etc., and we figure we need a whole day there. We're also still kind of tired from last night's border crossing, even though it turned out to be pretty simple and straightforward.

We were delayed getting started because Michael needed a haircut and then I wanted some empanadas, and then we met a family of Christians from Ohio whose son had married a Paraguayan girl who'd studied in the US and spoke English with same Ohio accent as the family she married into. The family was blessed to be tagging along on the couple's honeymoon so that they could get a chance to see the highlights of Paraguay, Lord willing. We talked to them for quite a while.

It was dark when we got to the cab stand across the street from the hotel. The driver wanted 60,000 guaranies to take us to the border. This seemed like a lot to us as we had been led to believe by both the Lonely Planet and the owner of the Hotel Munich that we could walk if we wanted to. But he insisted it was a good price, so we gave in.

We came pretty close to not getting properly stamped out of Paraguay. But as we zoomed down a road that was completely plastered with billboards advertising electronics and other goods that people come to Ciudad del Este to stock up on, Michael noticed that we were passing Paraguayan Immigration and spoke up. The driver pulled over and said he'd wait for us.

We left our packs in the trunk of the taxi as we ran across the road to Immigration. I trusted the driver enough not to run off with our stuff, but I still couldn't help but glance back every now and then as we stood at the outdoor windows having our passports examined. For this reason: if he did drive away with our packs, I wouldn't even be able to complain about it without hearing a lot of, "Well, it's your own fault, you should never let your pack out of your sight, blah blah." But of course the driver was just standing around waiting for us when we ran back ten minutes later.

Then we drove into Brazil for the second time. There is a tiny finger of Brazil between Paraguay and Argentina in this area and it had been freaking Michael and me out for a while. We were worried that we'd have to choose between paying $100 USD just to pass through the country for ten minutes, or taking a six hour bus back to Encarnacion, crossing the border there, and then taking another six hour bus back up to Puerto Iguazú.

Seriously, it's been consuming us for days, and no one we talked to had anything reassuring to tell us. So we were very tense as we sneaked through Brazil, the driver taking us through Immigration points without stopping. And then we were out of Brazil and into Argentina. Sometimes anticlimactic is good.

It was a long drive, not walkable at all. And with each minute that passed I felt more and more guilty that I had mistrusted the driver's fare quote. Maybe everyone had been talking about just getting to Paraguayan Immigration on the way out, I don't know. But getting to the border of Argentina requires wheels. I resolved to tip well.

Our driver asked if he could let us off at the side of the road about one hundred yards from the border because traffic up ahead was so snarled. We agreed. I handed over a one hundred thousand guarani note.

And then we heard it. What we'd never once heard in Paraguay, despite the low costs and high denomination bills. Already off Paraguayan soil, only one hundred yards from the border facilities of Argentina and engaging in our very last use of the guarani on this trip and possibly forever. The pronouncement of doom: "No hay cambio." I had to laugh. The driver showed us his wallet, one lonely ten thousand guarani note tucked inside. He offered to let us get back in the car so that he could get change at the border.

I believed in his sincerity. Plus I felt I owed him one. "Esta bien," I said. I told him to just give me the ten. What can you do? I was going to tip him anyway. What's thirty thousand guaranies? (No, really, what is it? It's so confusing. I do know you can buy thirty empanadas with it, so that must be a decent tip.*) He seemed very surprised and happy, which is always gratifying.

We walked along the weedy highwayside until we got to Argentina's offices, where we entered a shabby little room with terrible flourescent lighting and got stamped in. My stamp was placed smack in the middle of my "amendments" page. People really pay very little attention to what's written on passport pages and just stamp wherever they want. No one cares. Which is good for me, because I only have one "real" space left for stamping and if people stuck by the rules I'd be out of luck.

The next stop was the money exchange, where I piled up my few remaining guaranies (minus selected souvenir bills) and traded them in for pesos. Michael started to change a travelers' check but the fee was so purely ridiculous that it wasn't worth it.

As we changed money, a bus pulled up out front headed towards Puerto Iguazú and we hopped on. Very convenient. We got to spend our first Argentinian money, which is a nice, brain-wrappable 3.5 pesos to the dollar.

So getting across the border was extremely easy. But finding a room was tough. Most of the places we tried were sold out, and those that were not were monstrously expensive, even the hostels with shared bath. The air was cool and damp, but we sweated as we trudged around looking for a room.

We finally lucked out at a hostel run by an Australian expat and his Argentinian wife. This expat told us he had only one room left and apologized for it the entire way there, so that we began to fear what we'd find. The room turned out to be fine... not great, but very far from terrible. But all those warnings made us afraid of what was going to come at us when we turned out the lights. Nothing did, but this morning there was a vacancy and we changed to a much nicer room with lots of light.

When we went out for food, we found that most places, though full, were closing. But we eventually found a little spot and had a couple of hamburgers. Of course this morning when we found out about the time change, we realized we had been trying to find dinner after 11:00 p.m., so really it's pretty impressive that we found something. Good thing we're in Argentina.

Tomorrow - Iguazú  Falls!

*It's about $5.25 USD.

HOURS IN A TAXI: 6