I checked the weather when I came back from the bird sanctuary, where, of course, it had been sunny the entire day despite a 50% chance of thunderstorms.

“Monday, a 50% chance of thunderstorms.”

Oh, that helps, thanks.

On Monday, Mark was going on his first field trip ever (!)—an all-day aboriginal outdoor centre experience, never mind the extreme cold warning with a forecast temperature of -25 °C.

“What kind of school plans a field trip in January?” Feng and I wondered at length.

“I think I can take a thunderstorm or two if Mark can handle being outside when it’s -25 °C. Alright, I’ll go see the Argentinian side of the falls. Mark, call me first tomorrow, and tell me everything about the field trip!”

Going to the Argentinian side of Iguazú Falls from Brazil is quite an adventure. It’s not difficult or far, it just takes forever and involves many, many buses.

I grabbed my Argentinian SIM card, passport, a few thousand pesos I had left plus my camera and a few plastic bags—you know, just in case.

I took the first bus across the border. It only stopped at Argentinian immigration for a quick passport check, and I made it to Puerto Iguazú about 40 minutes later.

Two companies run buses to the Parque Nacional Iguazú, with service every 30 minutes. I waited for the bus and it dropped me off at the park another half an hour later.

The entrance fee in Argentina is now a whopping 45,000 pesos (about $45). I was going to pay in reais or dollars because really, who carries that many banknotes, but neither currency was accepted—pesos or credit card online. It took about 20 minutes to buy my ticket only because the website kept on declining my card but it eventually went through. Phew.

Two minutes later, I also realized I took the wrong SIM card. I grabbed the one I had in Mexico, not my Argentinian SIM. Hey, all SIM cards look the same!

By the time I walked into the park, it was already close to 1 p.m. I started with the Paseo Superior, the 1.7-km-long trail that offers the best grand overview of the falls, before crossing a large swath of the Iguazú River and ending above the powerful Salto San Martín.

I saw the dark clouds coming.

Yeah, the 50% chance of thunderstorms was catching up with me…

I hurried back to the train station—a free train takes visitors from one side of the park to the other—to go see the Garganta del Diablo, the park’s most spectacular waterfall. Last year it was closed before the lookout platform was damaged.

It started pouring. I waited for about half an hour at the Devil’s Throat station, more or less sheltered, about to give up because the one-kilometre walk to the edge of the waterfall isn’t very doable when it’s raining hard.

It tapered off long enough for me to make it to the deafening cascade. I still got soaked but it was a much quieter experience without many people around.

I took the train again to exit the park, then the bus back to town. It had stopped raining so I walked to the three-border landmark where you can see Paraguay and Brazil.

Goodbye Argentina, no more border crossing! I took the bus back to Brazil and lucky me, the driver decided I looked Brazilian enough—he didn’t make me get off at the border for a passport check so I made it to Foz do Iguaçu by sunset.