The night at the campsite in Dionísio Cerqueira took some getting used to. As I opened the faucet on the toilet sink, three nimble, giant cockroaches immediately came running toward me, happily waggling their long antennae. The drive through Santa Catarina was long and tiring, and it was too late to look for another place to stay for the night.

Crossing the border from Brazil to Argentina is actually relatively relaxed. We don’t get our Brazilian exit stamps at the border, but rather at an office in the middle of the city. We’re surprised that we don’t get a stamp in our passports from Argentina. Argentina has been doing this online for a few years now. The only problem is that the power keeps going out.

In the café across from the immigration office, people take the situation in stride and cheer as the coffee machine starts up again. I’m happy to have an espresso in the morning.

The young people in the café are curious about where we come from. They think our trip is fantastic, and we exchange contacts.

The landscape is very beautiful. In Brazil, the country consists mainly of agricultural land. Here, in the neighboring province of Misiones, there is a lot of forest, and only here do we pass a small farm or small town.

From a raised spot, we can see far across the countryside and can’t see any city, agriculture, or industry. It’s very beautiful.

The food in Argentina, on the other hand, is expensive and bad. It’s much more expensive here than in Brazil, but the food isn’t good.

As we finish the expensive and poor lunch, we see that our tire is now completely flat. The repair in Brazil was obviously very sloppy. Fortunately, there is a tire repair shop (gomeria) right across the street from the restaurant.

Is this guy doing his job as sloppily as his colleagues in Brazil? I’m not taking any chances and have the flat tire swapped with the spare. The man will fix the flat tire for me anyway, so that in case of emergency, I might still have a wheel to take me to the nearest repair shop. The tire will last for the rest of the trip.

There are repeated rain showers. We drive to the town of Oberá, where we once again treat ourselves to accommodation with a shower and washing machine. However, the cockroaches here are no less large than those in Brazil.

We look for a restaurant in town for dinner – in vain.

All the restaurants don’t close until 8 p.m. At least in a hotel with a casino and bowling alley, we get sandwiches for prices that would have cost us a top-notch all-you-can-eat buffet in Brazil. At least I can finally sample the local wine. And we treat ourselves to a round of bowling.

The further we drive, the hotter it gets. However, there are few towns and little to see. Our only option is to drive further west to see more of Argentina.

From Oberá we drive to San Ignacio to visit the famous ruins of an old mission cathedral.

We arrive at the mission around lunchtime. There are hardly any visitors, but instead, there are pitifully poor children begging or haggling for souvenirs. We hadn’t experienced anything like that in either Paraguay or Brazil.

The entrance fee for the ruins is the equivalent of 13 euros per person. The poor lunch across the street also cost us 27 euros.

We skip the ruins and content ourselves with the view from outside.

It is so incredibly expensive in Argentina!!

In the heat, sweat pours down our skin. We continue our journey and shortly afterwards reach the large city of Posadas.