Day 13 - Onwards, to Foz do Iguazu...

22:00
A long day of travel awaits, and I’m more than a little jaded. I sleep poorly, and feel pretty fuzzy around the edges. Spaced out, a bit woozy etc etc. Waiting in the departure lounge at Maceio Airport, I feel a little queasy as well. Really rather unpleasant. On the flight, the row opposite us is empty, and I relocate, in the hope that the additional space will allow me to sleep for a couple of hours. We’ve a 3 hour hop down to Rio, then a 2 hour puddle jump over to Foz do Iguazu. Happily, I manage about 90 minutes, and wake up feeling much the better for it.

Landing into Rio, there is a heavy, grey carpet of cloud blanketing the city. We’ve been very lucky with the weather so far, but there are promises of storms later in Foz do Iguazu. We were a little worried that our 45 minute transfer in Rio would be a touch tight, but in reality we actually have to spare (i.e. to grab a quick beer). Our second flight is busier, and at this point, it’s time to talk about reclining seats. We’ve taken a few internal flights during our trip - the longest being three hours, and the shortest clocking in at around 50 minutes. Most of our flights are on a low cost carrier called Gol - lots of shared DNA with the likes of Easyjet or Ryanair. We’ve been surprised throughout that the seats on these planes are capable of reclining. LCCs in Europe tend to specify their planes without reclining seats. What’s surprised us even more is the determination of passengers on these short flights to recline their seat to the max. There is very little legroom when the seats are upright. With the seat in front fully reclined, it is beyond cramped. On this second flight today, there is a couple sat in front of me, occupying three seats. They recline the two they’re sitting in (window and aisle), but also recline the middle seat in which neither of them is sitting. What madness is this?

The flight passes quickly enough. I’m watching a very entertaining Netflix show at the moment, about Jeffrey Dahmer - that mass murdering, necrophiliac cannibal. A couple of episodes pass the time satisfactorily. As we start to descend into Foz do Iguazu, we’re in thick, low lying cloud. The cloud barely breaks as we land, and it is raining. Visibility is poor, but we can still see that we’re landing into an airport surrounded on all sides by think jungle.

Our driver for the next few days, Gabriel, meets us, and whisks us to our hotel. Along the 20km drive into town, the roads are lined by large, chain hotels. This is clearly a city built around and for tourism. We’re all hungry, having subsisted on simple airport food all day. We head out in search of sustenance, and land at a very cool looking Italian place. I feel a little under-dressed in my shorts, sleeveless t-shirt and bandana combo. I have a truly outstanding lasagne, featuring a veal ragu, and some very well made fresh pasta. Vicki’s ravioli are even more impressive, featuring black truffle, and a barely cooked egg yolk as the filling. As we eat, we can see into the kitchen, where one of the chefs is preparing fresh pasta. There’s a lot of skill on display. By the time we’ve eaten, it’s past 20:00. We’re conscious we’ve an early-ish start tomorrow, and we’re all pretty tuckered. It’s starting to rain again. Once back at the hotel, the heavens really open. Thick sheets of rain lash down, and the noise is really something. We set an alarm for 07:00, and turn in… =Weiterlesen