My Foz do Iguaçu Airbnb isn’t cozy but Foz do Iguaçu isn’t cozy—you’re in the jungle, baby.
It was so hot that I set the air con at 17°C and managed to bring the temperature down to 30°C.
Travellers from all over the world tend to fly to Iguaçu Falls (or Iguazú Falls, the Spanish spelling) from Buenos Aires or Rio de Janeiro, staying in either Puerto Iguazú in Argentina or Foz do Iguazú in Brazil. They make a two- or three-day detour to see both sides of the falls then fly to their next destination or back to a city not located in the middle of the jungle.
Almost no foreigner lingers in this corner of Brazil and Argentina, except Paraguayans who live next door and a large established Lebanese community who is offering the world the best of Arab cuisine along Avenida Brazil.
This year, I travelled to Foz do Iguaçu because it was the cheapest and easiest way to re-enter Brazil from Argentina. Flying to São Paulo was an international flight, so more expensive, and I didn’t feel like taking the bus across Uruguay and southern Brazil.
“I might not even go to the falls,” I said. “This is just a border crossing exercise for me.”
But I had forgotten how sleepy Foz do Iguaçu is. There isn’t much to do in town, especially on weekends because everything but the mall and supermarkets close for two days.
And of course, now that I was in Foz do Iguaçu, I wanted the full fall experience again. I had no excuse—I knew which bus to take and I was only a block from the terminal.
I booked my ticket online (R$114, about CA$28) the night I arrived.
The next morning, I took the bus 120 that goes all the way to the national park. It was starting well; I was kind of proud of myself for getting up early after a night spent catching up on work and finding the right bus.
I got off the bus.
It started pouring rain.
“No worries, it never lasts long in Brazil.”
There’s a 50% chance of rain every in Foz do Iguaçu (and many places in Brazil). In São Paulo, Feng and I call it the “5 p.m. downpour.” In Floripa, it was usually around 3 p.m.
I waited.
And waited.
And eventually, I got my entry ticket scanned because, clearly, it wasn’t going to stop.
Oh well.
On the Brazilian side of the falls, a double-decker bus takes you to the beginning of the trail. It’s included in your ticket and it’s the only way to get to the fall.
The seats on the bus were soaked.
I got off and started walking along the trail. There was nothing I could do to stay dry. I didn’t have a poncho, an umbrella or a rain jacket. I didn’t even have a plastic bag for my camera, passport and phone.
Whatever. May as well enjoy the scenery.
It did get quite uncomfortable after a couple of hours but hey, Canadian passports dry pretty well. Good to know.
And, obviously, it stopped raining around 6 p.m. when I got off the bus in Foz do Iguaçu.


































