Before i begin i would like to sincerely apologise for my lack of recent blogging, I have spent most of october 'gallavanting around south america' as my good friend Rosie Durance put it. I was initially worried about having to explain my prolonged absence to my teachers. However having finally plucked up the courage to tell them, their general reaction was not 'are you taking the piss' as i had feared but instead 'go and enjoy yourself'. You've got to love the brazilian attitude to life. So after my final lecture of Brazilian history, where the old presentation competition got taken to a whole new level by a guy who wrote and performed a song based on the text about womens rights, i packed my bags and set off.
My trip began at Florianopolis central bus station, a building that made up for its uninspiring design by offering a superb range of chewy sweets. After making a bold selection of peach chewits, we boarded the 7pm PLUMA bus due to arrive at 8am the next morning. The journey itself was pretty relaxed and we met a young bristolian couple who were making the most of their redundancy packets to travel round the whole of South America. Chatting to them was definitely better than trying to watch avatar dubbed in portuguese. After a dinner stop at a shop offering bizarre religious artifacts as well as a dodgy looking buffet, I succesfully slept through the rockin of the bus and Sophie's snores, waking up just as we arrived in Foz de Iguazu, on the Brazilian side of the falls.
After a quick breakfast of peach chewits we headed straight to the falls. I will admit at this stage that i had originally been pretty unfussed about seeing Iguazu, having been a longtime member of the 'nature shmature' school of thought. However as soon as we got off the bus i knew i had been mistaken, We followed the path onto a platform, dizzyingly suspended right over the edge of the falls and the beauty, the noise and the sheer power of the water were absolutely immense. I will freely admit i loved it. I only wish i hadn't had several cups of coffee with breakfast to wash down the rather soapy chewits, as i began to need the loo. As i'm sure you can imagine waiting in a long queue whilst millions of gallons of water are cascading next to you is not the most pleasant experience in the world.
After wandering a bit more and sharing a buffet lunch with a load of angry wasps we briefly visited the famous bird park. Whilst most of the animals were in cages, some of the more tranquil birds were housed in big aviaries which we were able to carefully enter. This greatly excited the gaggle of four year olds in front of us, who tried their best to 'interact' with the toucans, much to their teachers horror. Other highlights included flamingos, tropical parrots, and even an alligator which makes me think that the brazilian classification of 'bird' is a little wider than our own. Either that or the savage bastard had just wandered in and eaten the bird that previously resided there.
Sightseeing completed, we then got a van over to Puerto Iguazu on the argentinian side of the falls where our hostel for the night was located. The weather was still beautiful so we went for a wander around the town before making best use of the great exchange rate to settle down for an awesome steak and wine dinner.
The following day we explored the Argentinian iguazu park, where the general theme of waterfall continued, although we were able to get onto a boat trip that went right under the falls. We all expected to end up soaking wet, but their is nothing less reassuring than seeing the crew of the boat your in don wetsuits and wellingtons when your in shorts and t-shirts. In any case it was seriously good fun, a must do for any of you thinking of visiting Iguazu.
After returning to the hostel that evening i went in search of an atm, only to find that my card had been blocked. After calling the Barclays 24 hour help service, I was transferred to a man in India who was suppposed to help me resolve this issue. Having given him my card number, my home address, my mother's maiden name, the name of my first pet, my brother's shoe size and my dad's golfing handicap he told me he still needed to prove I was who i said i was by anwsering a question about my account.
'can you tell me about a recent transaction?' he said
'i took out some money two days ago' i replied
'how much?'
'about £50'
'at what time?'
'about middday i guess'
'would you say closer to 11:45 or 12:15?'
'i have no idea'
'roughly?'
At this point i had to restrain myself from throwing my phone against the wall and instead calmly managed to persuade him i was not an impostor, I just didn't have a watch.
'Ok so you in Uruguay'
'no Argentina'
'but you say Uruguay'
'Im going there after'
'Ok so I put Argentina then Uruguay in system, will that be in South America at all?'
'almost entirely' (i don't think he got the sarcasm)
'ok thats fine Mr Englander, i have registered that change to your second account'
'no thats my savings account, i want to change my current account'
'no its not savings'
'yes it is savings'
'no its not'
'yes it is'
'look im not having an argument about whether my savings account is actually a savings account, please just put the changes onto my other account'
'very well Mr Englander, anything else i can help you with?'
'No'
While it might make sound economic success, I have now realised how much I hate outsourcing.
That night, as it was our friend Joe's 22nd Birthday we decided to hit a few bars before wandering to the towns only club 'Cuba Libre'. We were joined by a man from our hostel called Nick who turned out not to be a rapist or murderer as we had originally feared but instead just really really odd. He spent most of the night, criticising our taste in wine, plying us with drinks and trying to force Joe (who was pretty much passed out on the dancefloor) to dance salsa. It was still a great night summed up by Joe when asked to describe his birthday in one word on the journey home. 'Gggett oouuuttt' he replied.
We had most of the following day to kill before our evening bus to Buenos Aires so we decided to cross the border to Ciudad del Este, Paraguay. We were told that people mainly visit the city for the stamp in the passport or for cheap shopping. So having got the stamp, bought various pairs of sunglasses and sports socks, had a photo taken with some pretty grumpy policemen and managed to escape from a man determined to sell us singing condoms we returned to our hostel in Puerto Iguazu in time to confirm our bus tickets.
I was particulairly excited for the journey as beer, wine and champagne were all included in the £50 ticket as well as a delicious hot dinner and breakfast. I just hoped it wasn't too good to be true....
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