On the other side of the bridge, we got off the bus and were stamped back into Brazil for a second time. It only took a few minutes. We used our bus ticket to board another bus coming over the bridge from Paraguay. We sat near the front on separate seats and were chatting. Trev pointed something out to me and my attention was diverted. When I turned back to my day pack, I saw the youth behind me trying to unzip it and reach in. He suddenly pulled his hands back and made a gesture of ‘I made a mistake’. I gave him the eye as he lowered his and made sure he knew that I knew he had been rumbled. It was the only occasion on the trip when we spotted anyone trying to steal from us. It only took a few seconds to lose concentration especially since we were so relieved to be back on a bus on the hot sweaty day and finally to our way to Foz De Ignacio.

The transformation from the tatty, bustling, un-kept roads of Cuidad Del Este in Paraguay and the smooth, smart, quieter and more upmarket streets of Foz de Ignacio was very apparent. With the Ignacio Falls down the road, Foz (pop 310,000) has a ready-made tourist market ready to spend their Dollars.

We were dropped at the local bus station. This was organised so that you could leave easily enough but to get in, you had to buy a ticket at a booth for a bus. Not realising this, we later attempted to enter the terminal via the entrance where the buses departed, only to have someone yell and point at the turnstiles on the other side.

From the bus station, we had numerous hotels to choose from. I had provisionally chosen the Pousada El Shaddai guesthouse and we followed signs to it. It was only about 6 blocks away and down a hill. Arriving early before 2am, they were still cleaning the rooms. We checked in, but left our bags in reception with the attractive little receptionist called Marcia.

Despite a busy day of having seen the second largest hydroelectric station in the world, crossing into another country and finding accommodation, we thought we still had time to visit the Ignacio Falls on the Brazilian side. This one of the largest sets of waterfalls in the world and it was beautiful sunny afternoon to see them.

Catching a local bus a couple of blocks away, we were taken through Foz and south of the town, past the plusher hotel complexes to the small airport and then to the entrance of the Parque Nacional Do Iguacu about thirty minutes away. It was about &163#;14 to enter. We had three hours to do our best to see everything.

Every guidebook says that these falls are a jaw-dropping visceral experience and they always feature in the coffee table books of places to see before you die. And they are right. Everyone should experience the power and noise of the endless waterfalls in the beautiful setting of a large expanse of national park with a myriad of flora and fauna. My photos try and do them justice but you need to hear the volume and see the rushing water to fully appreciate them.

First sighted by Europeans in 1542, the Rio (river) Iguacu’s course takes it over a basaltic plateau that ends abruptly just short of the confluence with the Parana river which we had crossed earlier from Paraguay. Where the lava flow stopped, thousands of cubic metres of water per second now plunge down as much as 80 metres. But it is the fact that before the falls, the river divides into many channels meaning that it is separated into the many distinctive cascades. In total, the falls stretch around 2.7 km in length making Niagara Falls look tiny in comparison.

We were taken by bus down a sealed road through the forests for about twenty minutes and dropped by the Hotel das Catarats where the main waterfall observation trail started. From here we pottered 1.5 km down a paved trail with brilliant wide panoramic views of the falls on the Argentine side, the jungle and the river below. Every twist of the path revealed a more splendid view. Cascade after cascade was revealed, picturesquely framed by tropical vegetation until the trail ended right under the majestic and impressive Salto Floriano.

Here a catwalk led out to a platform where we were covered in spray but rewarded with marvellous views with the Garganta del Diablo close at hand. It was a light rusty orange colour (apparently due to the muddy mineral content in the water). The volume and force was ferocious. An inspiring design was that we were able to catch a lift with glass windows up to Porto Canoas by the side of the falls which looked stunning from all angles.

During our stroll we came across the South American coati. This is not quite a racoon but almost. It has a triangular head with a long snout and the tail has horizontal stripes all the way down. They are very accustomed to foraging food off the tourists and walk around like large cats on the lookout for titbits. There were signs everywhere warning that they bite.

Three hours was easily enough to take in the falls. Around 6pm we caught a bus back to the entrance and there was a bus waiting to take us back into Foz. There was a large supermarket near the bus station so we stocked up with wine and snacks and then sat and drank cold beers outside.

Back at the guesthouse, we moved into a room and feeling famished asked the guy on reception where to find a steak. He told us that the guest house had an all you can eat deal with the Bufalo Branco Steakhouse up the road for less than £17. In this restaurant, the idea was to go to the salad bar area and choose some stuff and then waiters would bring round various cuts of meat and serve it off plates and spits on your table. When the first specimens arrived, I thought the portions were small. What I didn’t realise was that there were around 15 different types of meat and many of them came round more than once. We were served rump steak, filet mignon, cap of rump, pork ribs, pork loin, lamb, beef ribs, sausages and othr things I can’t remember. Ice cold beer was needed to wash it all down. You can check the menu and place out at Bufalo Branco Steak House Recommended.

While we, and I think this is a fair description, ‘stuffed ourselves’, a couple of musicians in traditional costume played music on a guitar and cello type instrument. After all that meat, I still managed a variety of deserts from the desert stall. Then we waddled home. The trouble with meat is that takes a while to start being digested and when our stomachs started, they found an unnatural excess. Consequently we both had terrible stomach aches within an hour of getting back. But it was the best meal we had during our trip and it rounded off the most exciting and eventful day of the trip. What’s not to like?

Wednesday March 27th

We were flying home on Sunday and we needed to be back in Rio de Janeiro by Saturday night at the latest. So we had three days to do it. After a very restrained buffet breakfast at the guest house (our stomachs seemed to have recovered), we walked to the main area of shops. A travel agent opened at 8.30am and we went in to investigate the possibility of flying back to Rio. Yes we could do it, but it would cost about &163;150 with a change of flight. They suggested we try another agency to see what the bus possibilities were. At the other agency, we discovered that we could do a twenty four hour bus ride to Bele Horizonte leaving at 4pm tomorrow (Thursday). We would get into Bele on Friday night, giving us a day to get to Rio. We weighed up the pros of the convenience of a flight against the cost, as opposed to a long bus ride, cheaper and saving on accommodation. What swung it was the cheaper option, the fact that we needed to check out a long distance ride to plan a future trip and that not only were we staying in a nice guest house but that we had enough to do to fill in the time until 4pm tomorrow.

After booking another night at the guest house, we walked to a bus stop and caught a bus crossing over to Argentina to the border town of Puerto Ignacio. The rivers and falls mean that Brazil, Paraguay and Argentina are all within close proximity of each other.

On board, which was full of tourists, we sat opposite a pair of American sisters called Brandy and Bindy from Arizona. They didn’t seem confident about how to get to the falls and we struck up a conversation and told them what to do. At the Brazilian border, we were not stamped out of Brazil but after crossing the Ponte Tancredo Neves bridge which links Foz to Puerto Iguazu, we were stamped into Argentina on the assumption we were just visiting the Falls for the day. At the Puerto Ignacio bus station we climbed aboard a bus heading for the Parque Nacional Iguazu about 30 minutes away.

At the entrance, we were surprised that they didn’t take credit cards. We had very little Argentinian money left but Trev was allowed to enter the park to walk to an ATM machine to get cash to buy entrance tickets. Once inside, we walked down to the train line. On the Argentinian side, you use a mini train to shuttle you around the national park. The carriages are just small open sided affairs with wooden benches facing each other. It was a lovely relaxing way to head for the main falls.

The Lonely Person’s Guide said “The peaceful Iguazu River flowing through the jungle between Argentina an Brazil, plunges suddenly over a basalt cliff in a spectacular display of sound and fury that is one of the planet’s most awe-inspiring sights.” The usual guidebook description was that they were a majestic array of cascades on the border of Argentina and Brazil set in luxurious tropical jungle.

The Argentinian side is rated by every guidebook as better than the Brazilian side. Supposedly you can get closer to the falls, there are more of them and then there are all the other extra paid activities available. You can do such as a 12 minute powerboat ride into the spray a couple of times for £20 or get taken around the jungle on guided tours or do this and that. We weren’t bothered with the other activities and were happy to just explore in our own time. We would spend 6 hours here today in brilliant sunshine.

From the Catatatas train station we walked 2300 metres using metal footbridges over various river channels that had been split by small forested islands. The Argentinian side was busier with tourists and lines of people made their way over the bridges. There was a lot of bird life, some very used to tourists especially vivid dark navy blue birds.

We eventually arrived at the infamous Garganta del Diablo (Devil’s Throat), where the walkway took us to a platform which was perched right over this amazingly powerful and concentrated torrent of water. The vapours soaking us blurred the base of the falls and rose in a smoke like plume. One guidebook commented “You can stroll out over the placid river before gazing in awe as it drops away beneath you in a display of primitive sound and fury.”

Having returned back along the walkways, following a gravel track, we ventured into the undergrowth and then forests. Hundreds of large colourful butterflies fluttered around. Later we heard a rustle in the trees and saw a monkey, then another, then gradually an entire troop made its way either above us leaping from tree to tree or scampering across the gravel track. Also during the day, we saw loads of coatis, the long nosed varmints we had seen on the Brazilian side and also a rat.

The park had two spectacular walkways, one high – the 1400 metres long Paseo Inferior (1400m), and one low, the Paseo Superior which was a shorter 640 metres to get us in close to torrents of water of extraordinary power. A series of trails, bridges and catwalks took us up down and around the rocks with endless waterfalls all around us. With the spectacular sunny day, there were numerous rainbows (sometimes double rainbows) in the spray looping over the entire area. We could look across the river valley and see where we had walked yesterday on the Brazilian side.

We could also see the powerboats doing their two attempts at rushing towards the base of some falls on the brown chocolate covered river with the passengers covered in plastic macs. When we reached the end of the Paseo Superior, there was a walkway to the falls where the spray just soaked anyone coming close. With all these walkways, we had to follow them and then return along the same path but it was so spectacular that it was great to see everything twice at different angles. The camera got a right bashing over these two days.

I must admit that I enjoyed the Brazilian side just as much as the Argentinian. Maybe doing it later in day meant there were less people. Maybe it was the first sighting of the Falls. Standing right next to the Garganta del Diablo was definitely a highlight. It was the closest we got to a waterfall. But I’d agree that you have to see both sides to appreciate the whole area.

The train took us back to the park entrance. I had bought five stamps in Buenos Aires for postcards (at &163;2 a pop!) and finally bought some postcards here, scribbling off messages, I posted them now in the park before leaving Argentina again. It would take five or six weeks for the cards to arrive. They weren’t even stamped for a month after posting them!

A bus took us back to the Puerto Iguazu bus station and a connecting bus took us to the bridge where we were stamped out of Argentina and let back into Brazil for a third time. Back at Foz, we revisited the supermarket to stock up on goodies and have a quiet night in front of the James Bond movie ‘Casino Royale’ in Spanish. After last night’s blow out, we needed a rest!

Thursday March 28th

After another excellent breakfast, we packed but left our packs at the guesthouse. We had a few hours to burn and when visiting the Brazilian Falls, we had seen the Parque des Aves (‘Birds Park’) just before the National Park. It wasn’t on our original itinerary but with a day to spare, we thought why not. It was an excuse to see some wildlife.

This turned out to be another surprising highlight. Supposedly Latin America’s largest ‘Bird Park’, it was set in five hectares of native woods where a paved trail led us around various enclosures and enormous aviaries that blended in with the forest and allowed us to see about 900 birds from 150 species. There were loads of squawking colourful parrots, macaws and lorikeets as well as loads of other stuff – Harpi eagles, owls, flamingos, storks, cranes and a reptile section.

The two highlights were firstly the toucans, ubiquitous with their huge orange cartoon beaks which were free to roam and very friendly. They would hop up on a wooden rail next to me and peer as if to say “Well?” At one point I sat on a wooden bench and decided to film a toucan. It started to approach along the fence right up to the camera lens. As I shuffled back, it shuffled forward for an excellent close up shot. Well, it would have been if I hadn’t run out of bench and fell off, legs in the air. Trev managed to film me doing this stunt much to his amusement.

The other delight was a netted enclosure where hummingbirds were free to roam with their wings whirring and would extract the nectar (sugary drink?) from phoney flowers. I had never been this close to hummingbirds before. Large colourful native butterflies (up to 25 species) were also housed in this enclosure and looked wonderful. They also fed off saucers of sugar. I hadn’t anticipated spending four and a half hours at Bird Park, but we were content to take our time, take some great photographs and the day just passed. It helped that it was another beautiful hot sunny day. Recommended.

Reluctantly, we caught a bus back to town and picked up our packs and then went to the bus terminal to get a bus to the long distance bus terminal. This was much further away than I anticipated but we had allowed enough time.

For a journey starting at 4pm and lasting an estimated twenty four hours, we were expecting a plush bus, but when it turned up, the Gontijo bus was one of the worst we’d seen and nowhere near the standards of the Argentinian buses. There was another issue. To check on, everyone’s luggage was weighed and there was a 35kg limit. This wasn’t an issue for us, but it took ages to have all luggage weighed, identified and tagged with receipts. We didn’t leave until after 4.30pm.

Around 8.30pm we had a food stop. A woman on the bus ‘adopted’ us and took us in and pointed at the help yourself buffet. Not accustomed to this, we assumed it was a ‘pile your plate up’ for a fixed price. So we piled it with steak, pork, meat, salad and veg. But when we got to the check out, they weighed our plates and charged us accordingly. This is how it is often done in Brazil. Ironically, we didn’t have enough Brazilian Reals but they took credit cards. We had only been going for four hours. It already felt like the longest bus ride we had done. Only twenty hours to go.

Friday March 29th

Around 1am, the bus pulled up at a provincial border crossing. A policeman boarded and picked various passengers (including me) to come out and identify their luggage. Everything had been removed from under the bus. Now I knew why they had tagged everything before we set off. Once aboard, the same gruff looking policeman went round to inspect all ID cards and our passports. Finally, a trainee drug dog was let loose to sniff around. They planted something somewhere and when the dog failed to find it, they hit the dog. Which was nice. I think we spent over an hour going through this entire procedure. No wonder people fly if they can afford it.

There was another police check later in the trip. We had a breakfast stop and a driver change and a lunch stop. Somewhere, we found an ATM to get money. But it was just a gruelling bus trip across Brazil. There was nothing of interest to see and we just read books and napped. It was difficult to know where we were until we rolled into the major towns such Londrina. I think there was another driver change although their cab was sealed off from the passengers.

4pm came and went. I think at this point we were both wishing we had taken the plane but it was a useful exercise for future trips where I will definitely fly long distances where possible and if affordable. We eventually rolled into Bele Horizonte around 9pm. It had taken 29 hours and we felt shagged out.

Bele Horizonte (pop 2.5 m) is Brazil’s third largest city, the capital of the Minas Gerais region and according to the Lonely Person’s Guide “more or less a charmless concrete jungle.” The guidebooks said that the area around the bus station at night was dangerous. Fucktastic. But we needed a hotel and set off following our nose while also passing people sleeping rough. Within five minutes, we passed the Ambassy Hotel with its door open. It looked above our usual standard but we were leaving early the next morning so £54 for a nice en suite room seemed a good bet. Ironically, there was nowhere to eat nearby and we had to walk back to the bus station for hamburgers and beer (again!). Nevertheless, we had done the hard bit and were within a day of Rio de Janeiro.

Saturday March 30th

We were up at silly o’clock and back at the bus station for a 6am bus to Ouro Preto. It was still dark. Originally, this was where we would have head to on our first day in Brazil. Now we thought we’d have time to squeeze it in before our final day. When the day revealed itself, it was wet and overcast. 114km southeast of Bele Horizonte, Ouro Preto itself nestled amongst lovely mountain scenery but was covered in mist.

Built on a hill in the Sierra do Espinchaco, Ouro Preto (‘Black gold’) was the former capital of the Minas Gerais region and is home to some of the finest baroque architecture in the country. With a population of 67,000 the Lonely Person’s Guide said as “One of South America’s colonial era greatest hits, it rises from the lush landscape like a bygone, living museum unyielding in its grip on the 18th century.” Now one of Brazil’s best preserved colonial towns and a UNESCO World Heritage site since 1980, numerous stunning baroque churches are perched high on surrounding hillsides overlooking picturesque plazas and winding cobbled streets of the crown jewel of the Minas Gerais gold mining towns now known collectively as the ‘Cidades Historicas’.

After paying to leave our packs in a locker at the small bus terminal and ignoring the mist, we walked down into the centre where we found the Plaza Tiradentes, the main square with an obelisk in the centre. It was dominated and looked down upon by the Town Hall at the far end. Then we went exploring its cobbled streets which wound up and down steep hills which are crowned with 13 churches. These included the Igreja NS do Carmo (1776) which was just off the main square, the Matriz de NS do Pilar (early 18th century), the most opulent church with 434kg of gold and silver used in its decoration. We also checked out the Igrega NS da Conceicao de Antonio Dias (1770) and the Igreja de Sao Francisco de Assis, supposedly the the most beautiful church in town, but to be honest they all looked ok from the outside.

During our five hours of tramping about we came across mansions, fountains, churches, vistas of terraced gardens, ruins, and roofs shining with coloured red tiles which all blended together to produce an old ye-olde colonial atmosphere. The large Casa dos Contos mansion was free today and we spent a good hour there poking around. We also found the small train station with a tourist train ready to pull out to a neighbouring but tiny ex-gold town.

As the sun came out, the town filled with tourists. It was the Easter weekend and a prime time for visits by Brazilians. Many buildings had lines of colourful banners hanging from every window. At lunchtime, we stopped in at a restaurant specialising in Minas Gerais regional food. You could fill your plate up but paid for it by the weight at tourist prices, I must admit I prefer the English idea of a fixed price and you eat all you can! There was also a small market selling tat as well as many shops. If you are coming to Rio and fancy escaping for a night or so, I’d recommend this town. It was lovely and a photographers’ paradise. The whole region looked inviting and I’d love to return to see the other old gold towns. Recommended.

We were booked on the 2am bus to Rio. It took eight hours and seemed to go on forever, especially when we had a food stop and had already eaten. It poured with rain outside as we negotiated twisty roads around the hills. We seemed to spend ages entering Rio through wet, non descript and ugly industrial landscapes along long straight roads. There was lots of graffiti everywhere and it looked very rough.

When we arrived it was about 10pm. The Rio bus station was huge. Lots of people offered taxi rides and there were counters to book taxis but I fancied trying to use public transport and we walked to the local bus terminal nearby and someone pointed to the bus stop. The bus arrived and we seemed to be the only people boarding. I think we were overcharged (as the new ignorant gringos in town?) but it was a lot cheaper than a taxi. The bus took us around a bunch of back streets and finally towards the centre. I found where we were on a map. We had told the driver to let us off around the Carioca metro station and we got there a lot quicker than I anticipated.

Prior to our trip, I had reserved a hotel in the centre. Rio is always full and I wanted to ensure we had somewhere to stay even if, like now, we arrived late in the evening. We walked a few blocks, got our bearings and then found the Rua Senador Dantos. A few blocks down this, we finally found the Windsor Asturias, a plush four star hotel with doormen/security. It cost £90 for the night but it felt like a reward after all the bus journeys over the last three days. We walked in looking like backpackers but were welcomed as guests. We had a large en-suite 8th floor room (of 22 floors). It was a real step up in quality. Catching a lift to the 22nd roof top floor (complete with tiny swimming pool) we had a great view over night time Rio and tried to spot the ‘Christ the Redeemer’ statue on a surrounding hill. It was lit up at night and looked tiny against the black sky.

The hotel restaurant had closed but it was out of our budget anyway. So we took a stroll around the area past a couple of hotdog stands (with a dead rat next to one – what a great advertisement) for the night clubbers. Down a side street, we found a Domino’s pizza. We ordered a large pizza and a couple of beers to eat in. The only other person in the restaurant was a male transvestite dressed in women’s clothes and a wig. He needed a shave. We couldn’t work out what he/she was doing there on her own but he/she didn’t bother us. We did have company outside. As we waited for the pizza, a down and out man stood outside the window and peered in at us. He did this for ten minutes which felt strange. One of the counter staff, a large friendly male came over and in pigeon English asked if this guy was with us? No. The down and out was then politely told to piss off, though he still hung out to the side of the window for a while longer. By the time we got back to the room it was midnight. It was ironic that we had such a nice room and so little time to enjoy it and that we had no personal supplies of wine/beer to live it up.

Sunday March 31st

It was our last day, but we still had plenty to pack in. First up was the all you can eat breakfast downstairs. With just over four hours sleep, we were up by 5.45, showered and down there by 6.30am to pile our plates high with scrambled eggs, sausages, toasted ham sandwiches, cakes, waffles etc. It would have been nice to have a relaxing time just grazing but it was Easter Sunday and the 4.50pm departure clock was ticking. After packing most of our stuff in the room, and having another look from the roof at Rio in the daylight, we left the hotel and walked to the nearest metro.

The Rough Guide said “Rio is undoubtedly one of the world’s greatest cities. A magnificent natural landscape of beaches, lakes and mountains complements a series of bustling city districts, each one alert to the gaze of the iconic statue of Christ the Redeemer high overhead.” It continued “There is no other city worldwide that can compete with Rio’s combination of urban sprawl and rain forest-clad mountains, wealth merged uneasily with poverty, a still expanding population continually pushed upwards on the mountains and outwards along the coast.” I’d agree with that description.

Rio de Janeiro means “January River.” It was the capital of Brazil from 1763 to 1960 and even though Brasilia is the new Capital city and Sao Paulo is the huge economic powerhouse of around twenty million people. Rio with half that number of people is a bold and dynamic city that likes to think of itself as still the unofficial capital. It is hosting the World Cup final in 2014 and a major part of the 2016 Olympics.

The most famous sight is the Christ the Redeemer statue and it would have been rude not to make an effort to see it. The clean efficient metro took us to the Cosmo Velho stop where back on the street, we took a metro bus to the Corovado ‘train station’. We knew it would heaving with tourists today which is why we had made an early start. Arriving at 8.30am we still had to line up and wait for the 9.20am cog train to the top. Despite the waiting, it was quite efficient. You could pay in cash or credit card and were then given a ticket for a specific train. Once aboard, we were slowly pulled up the mountain, through lush forests on either side. It took at least twenty minutes with the occasional view over the coastline. Then as we left the train, there it was above us with the whole of Rio and Guanabara Bay laid out beneath us.

The most famous of all images of Rio de Janeiro is ‘Cristoi Redentor’ (Christ the Redeemer) gazing across the bay from the Corcovado (hunchback) hill, arms outstretched in a welcome or as if preparing for a dive into the waters below. Originally planned as part of the 1922 Brazil centenary celebrations, it was finally finished in 1931. It is a 30 metre tall Art Deco statue weighing over 1000 tonnes. In clear weather climbing to the statue is a stunning experience and boy did we have clear weather today. It was sky blue and sunny and the perfect day for a visit.

The aerial views over Rio are indeed breathtaking and as the Rough Guide said “Even the concrete skyscrapers that dominate the skyline add to the appeal, moulded between an azure blue sea and the mountain range that provides a dramatic backdrop”. Rio’s international renown is bolstered by a series of incredible landmarks that rank as some of the most familiar symbols in the world, from the Corcovado (‘hunchback’) mountain supporting the Christ statue to the rounded incline of the Sugar Loaf mountain and the iconic sweep of Copacabana beach.

After forty minutes of taking in the view, it was a relief to escape the hoards of tourists all posing for photos and catch the cog train back down. Three buskers played conga music in our carriage before leaping out to board a train going back up.

Catching a bus back to the Cinelandia district where we were staying, we spent an hour quickly walking around an area where towering office blocks intermingled with elegant colonial and Neo classical buildings dominate ‘Centro’, the commercial and historic centre of Rio. We saw the attractive Theatro Municipal (1909) which was modelled on the Paris Opera house with granite, marble and bronze. The Nova Catedral Metropolitano (new cathedral) was conical in form and with a 96 metres internal diameter and an overall height of 75 metres, it has a standing-room capacity of 20,000 people. Built between 1964 and 1976, it was an impressive piece of modern architecture. As was the weird looking Petrobras Building (1974). When I return to Rio. I will attempt to see the interiors of these buildings.

Back at the hotel, we departed the room bang on the 12 noon checkout limit and had our packs stored near reception. Then we walked back to the Cinelandia metro station and caught a train a few stops down to the world famous Zona Sul beaches to Copacabana for our final sight. Immortalised in song by Barry Manilow (god forbid) the beach is amazing and the seafront is backed by a line of prestigious high rise hotels and luxury apartments that have sprung up since the 1940s.

The Praia de Copacabana had a constant flow of joggers, cyclists, people watchers and sunbathers. The open sea had strong waves which crashed down on the beautiful sand. Apparently theft is a major problem here while people are swimming but we were just walking around. We also popped into the splendid neo classically styled Copacabana Palace Hotel (1923) which had a stylish and exclusive ambience. There was just time for a cold beer outside a café people watching before we had to return to the hotel. It seemed a fitting way to end the trip.

Since it was getting on for 3pm and our plane was leaving at 5.10pm, we took advantage of the hotel taxi service and treated ourselves to a luxurious return to the airport about 20km away. But when we got there, the check in desks hadn’t even opened. It turned out that our 5.10pm flight was actually boarding at 5.40. Once checked on, we used our spare cash to sit and drink our last Italpava beers and write diaries.

Monday April 1st

The overnight flight took us back to Charles De Gaulle airport in Paris where we arrived at 9am local time. We felt rather lethargic having watched movies all night and the time change. A connecting flight at 12.50pm took us back to Birmingham arriving at 1.10pm on Easter Monday where Debbie, Trev’s wife picked us up.

In 16 days, we had achieved everything we had set out to do plus a little bit more. Four countries, three capital cities, three UNESCO World Heritage sites, waterfalls, wildlife, colonial towns, architecture, food and beer. It had been a trip with no hiccups or problems. Everything had gone to plan. I suppose the low point was the 29 hour bus ride and the high point were the waterfalls. Everyone should see those in their life time. The trip had whetted our appetite to see more of South America and we were already thinking about another recce trip to Chile, Peru and Bolivia.

Three months after we left, the people of Rio were rioting (along with other cities in Brazil) about the price rises, lack of investment in essential infrastructure such as health and education and the amount of money being spent on the World Cup and Olympics. Despite Brazil’s ‘booming’ economy, much of the population remained below the poverty line.