Encarnacion

"Encarnacion?"

A bright light filled my freshly woken eyes.

"Encarnacion?" The coach hostess asked again. I liked her more when she was offering trays of whiskey and cola, not waking me up at twenty to five in the morning.

"Yes, Encarnacion. Si, si" I mumbled.

She handed me two passports, and disappeared towards the drivers cabin. Helen and I began sleepily struggling with pillows and blankets, stuffing our possessions into our backpacks, determined not to leave anything behind again. I pulled on my hoodie, double checked beneath the seats, grabbed my hat, and stepped outside.

We were in a city this time. That was a good sign. The last time a coach dropped us at the side of a road it was simply near Rocha, and we had to complete the journey on foot. This time, confident that in the midst of civilisation we'd be lying on a soft mattress in no time, we drifted like moths to a flame to where the city lights were brightest.

Within minutes we stood in the clinical lobby of the hotel Itapua. I asked if they have a room for the night, and they did. Sighing with relief Helen and I let our rucksacks fall to the floor. I saw the deep and red imprints of bag straps tattooed on Helens shoulder, and a sore feeling in my own told me that beneath my t-shirt I looked the same.

The hotel clerk gave us a confused look, and said something in Spanish. After a few minutes of charades we determined he wanted us to pay upfront. The room was cheap, but having arrived in the country 15 minutes earlier we didn't have a single Paraguayan penny on us. Reluctantly we heaved our bags back onto our backs and headed outside in search of a cash point.

Three blocks up and one block to the right we found ourselves in a dark and empty street. With no banks in sights we begin to question the directions we were given, but we marched onwards, tired and sweaty, hoping to find anyone who could direct us to an ATM.

A deep blue was creeping into the corner of the night sky when Helen remembered a very frightful fact: "Don't the mosquitoes come out at dawn?"

With new found strength we powered on, eventually finding ourselves in a large square that looked like Christmas. The trees that lined the sides were wrapped in fairy lights and lit the path to a shining building with the word 'Banesco' big and red on the side. We withdrew a million, and wearily retraced our steps, reaching the hotel just as as the first golden rays of sunlight burst over the horizon.

Beyond the reception, the hallway resembled a cell-block. Three stacked floors of barred windows, chipped paint and dirt. We climbed the steep and narrow central staircase, stumbling over the uneven steps and turned onto the second floor for room 47.

In the room the pale blue walls were coated in greasy brown stains, the foam mattress was covered in greying sheets, and there appeared to be a strong stench of urine from inside the cupboard. The only positive was the lizard in the bathroom, and even he ran away when we turned on the light. But it was time to sleep, not to complain, and rising refreshed in the afternoon it was all worth it.

In a nutshell, Encarnacion was not good for us. We had our first bout of illness, only found one person who spoke English and spent far too long cowering beneath trees to hide from the rain. The food was also bland, unless you have an undying passion for ham and cheese. On my second day there I ate a ham and cheese croissant for breakfast, a ham and cheese toastie for lunch, and a hamburgesa completa for dinner. That is, a hamburger, with ham and cheese, and a fried egg for variety.

We spent half a day trekking through the town in search of more exotic places to eat, only to find everywhere we read about had long since closed, but the greatest disappointment came on the night of the carnival. Just as the days of boredom and waiting were looking to be worth it, soaked in waves of foam at the centre of the most lively crowd I've ever seen, watching colourful dancers parade past, a jarring voice replaced the upbeat music blasting out of the microphones and declared the carnival was cancelled. The dancers ecstatic smiles faded as they stopped, turned, and began to walk disgruntled back down the runway.

The joyous roar of the crowd quickly turned to a thunder of anger, but the rage failed to boil over and people calmly began to swarm out of the arena. As we passed some staff we tried to find out what was happening. Apparently the mild drizzle was too much, and the festival had taken a rain check. If we hadn't booked a coach to and accommodation in Asunción, we probably wouldn't have minded that the festivities were rescheduled for the next day, but a refund was not on the cards. Why organise a carnival in the rainy season if you cancel at the slightest hint of rain?

We woke early for the coach to Asunción, eager to leave, and squeezed into an overcrowded minibus. As we rounded the corner leading out of the city, Encarnacion gave me one final gift in the form of a heavy suitcase straight to the head. As I sat nursing my bruised forehead and cradling my broken sunglasses I looked back over the past week. One repeating thought thumped through my head like the swelling scar from the suitcase. It seemed to perfectly sum up my emotions...

... Fuck Encarnacion.

6 days in. Sunburnt, of course. Sitting poolside with some reggae right now. All I need is an icy cocktail and the moment would be complete. Unfortunately we greatly underestimated the costs of Argentina and now must temporarily cut back on such luxuries. This means dorm rooms and bread with cheese at every meal for the next few days. But that´s okay, the bread here is good.
We spent most of today at Iguazo falls and the surrounding nature park. Trekking through 40· heat for a couple of hourse paid off when we came face to face with the most gorgeous natural landscape I have ever seen. Even Helen´s shiny new camera couldn´t capture how awe inspiring the falls were. It didn´t stop us from trying though.
Highlight of the trip so far was discovering that boating into the foot of a waterfall is the best way to cool off after a long sweaty hike.
Next stop is Florianopolis, for sun, surf and samba!

ciao!