It all comes down to today. We’ve got a 4pm flight from the airport on the other side of the border to Rio de Janeiro, and no back up plan for what happens if things go south. Optimistic, we check out of our hotel with one last look out the floor to ceiling windows at Iguassu Falls. We noticed it yesterday, but there is definitely a change in amount of water. The sight is still impressive, but a little less so than when we first arrived. Most people, who just past through for a day or two would never notice, and we realize that we lucked out a bit seeing them in full display.

Since our plans today border a bit on the unusual, we have arranged for a car and driver to stick with us until we finish up with our visas (assuming all goes according to plan) and then take us all the way through to the airport on the Brazilian side of the border. At a few minutes before 8am, he pulls up in front of the consulate, where a few people are already milling about on the sidewalk. When the doors open, the little old man from Friday waves us to the front and starts a colleague in on our paperwork. It is a tense few minutes of flipping pages back and forth, but he hands us a receipt and tells us to come back a noon.

Four hours is a LOT of time to spend in Puerto Iguazu. Our driver does his best to show us the sight (yes, as far as I can tell there is only one), which is where Argentina, Brazil, and Paraguay all meet. We take the obligatory picture, and then head to the center of town, where we spend the rest of our morning looking for gifts.

We have no use for Argentinian Pesos after today and can’t change them back to dollars (currency controls and all), and as it turns out, we guessed pretty well what we would end up using as we drain the last of our baggies of money and even convert a few more dollars to pay for the last of our mementos.

Promptly at noon, we are right back at the consulate, hoping to pick up our passports. At 12:15 we’re still there. Then 12:30, the occasional “5 more minutes” sign from the person at the desk the only things keeping us sane. At 12:40 (1:40 Brazil time) we’re finally rewarded with fresh visas, and a clear path to the final stop on our trip.

Our itinerary has us flying through Sao Paolo (which we have such fond memories of), changing airports there, and continuing on to Rio de Janeiro. But now things get a little weird. As we are checking in, the gate agent tells us there is a direct flight leaving earlier than our scheduled flight so would we like to change? Say what? Surely there must be a $100 change fee, or a standby fee of some sort? But no, just common sense courtesy from an airline. Twilight Zone kind of stuff.

The new schedule gets us into Rio at 5pm (instead of 10pm), so after cabbing it to the hotel, we have time to seek out our first churrascarria. It is on the bucket list to do here, and all in all we are happy with the meal, but big picture it is about the same price as we would find back home with fewer choices. We’re definitely not in the land of $8 steaks anymore.

It has definitely been a long day, and bordering now on a food coma, we head back to the hotel. We are right on the waterfront, and with the patio doors open, the sound of the waves crashing onto the beach, we are out in no time.

Aside from just seeing them (which has turned out to be much more enjoyable than we imagined), the only must do for us here is the boat trip up the river and into the falls themselves. There is a package tour that also includes a slow float through the jungle a few miles upstream, so we book a spot, scarf down a quick breakfast (which is the same everyday and starting to get a little tired, even the caramel filled crepes Joey!), and head out the pick up point.

The theory is that this easy cruise provides an opportunity to see some of the native plants and wildlife, but as our guide doesn’t speak any English, his pointing at random things and rambling on doesn’t do a whole lot for us. We are perfectly content however, to just lazily drift down the river, feet hanging over the side into the cool water, just enjoying nature.

After a short break (partially filled with ice cream), we are off for part two of our adventure. This starts with a 5 mile ride down a jungle trail in an open-topped bus. Our guide here speaks English, so we get more information about the animals that live here, but in practice, seeing live animals in the jungle is really, really, really hard, so while every rustling tree branch is met with a burst of excitement from the people is the bus, all we get out if it is a bunch of pictures of leaves we’ll scratch our heads over in a few weeks, wondering what the heck we were trying to take a picture of.

This all builds up to the main event, and I’m happy to say it doesn’t disappoint. After a few minutes riding upriver, we’re face to face with thousands of gallons of water a second crashing down all around us. The falls seem a bit quieter today, so instead of running up under one of the smaller ones, as we have been watching them do the past few days, we head straight for the the churning monster square in the middle. There is absolutely nowhere to hide, and in seconds were are completely soaked. To my left, I hear the giddy shrieking of a teenage girl at a Justin Beiber concert, and turn to find my lovely travel companion, hair plastered to her face, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

We make another run back under, much to the delight of all aboard, and then dock, for the short hike back to the hotel. We take the opportunity of this new viewpoint to grab a few more (yes) waterfall pictures before calling it a day. We have thoroughly enjoyed ourselves and touristy as it sounds, give the whole adventure two very enthusiastic thumbs up.

If you’ve had enough reading about waterfalls, this is probably a good time to skip ahead, as that pretty much is the agenda again for today. We’re up early, as we want to beat the tour bus crowds this morning. Rule follower that she normally is, I am a bit surprised when the barrier across the trail going into the park doesn’t even slow my fellow traveler down. I can only assume that with her still-developing Spanish skills, she has translated this to read “Welcome”, or maybe “Good morning, Angela”.

Our trespassing is well rewarded however, as there is not a person in sight. We pass a couple of waterfalls on our way to our favorite, and once there, spend the next 30 minutes completely undisturbed, just basking in the raw power that surrounds us.

Not wanting to press our luck too far, we pull ourselves away in time to get a few more pictures before the horde descends on us.

By 10am we are comfortably situated back on our patio, relaxing with a frosty beer and a good book. We make a feeble attempt at coming up with day trip that will take us away from the park, but there is nothing quite compelling enough to dislodge us from our rest today.

Even though our hotel is inside the national park, the trails to the falls themselves are closed from 6pm to 8am. I want to beat the crowds this morning, when I first wake up and check the time on my phone, I am happy to see it is still only 7:30. Angela makes a few growling sounds when I poke her to see if she wants to join me, so I back away quietly, grab a few cameras, and head outside.

When I arrive, there is a barrier across the trailhead, but after watching a few people just ignore it, I wander on by and beeline to the big waterfall we were so enamored by out first time through (note the complete absence of people).

While it is still quiet, I decide to do a quick pass of the upper trail. I know I’ll have to do it again when my travel partner is awake, but I will at least get a good sense of the highlights. Also, it is quite overcast this morning, and we’ll both want to see falls against blue skies.

All this takes about 30 minutes, and starting my walk back the hotel, I see how much difference just a little amount of time makes.

After some lunch and a bit of time by the pool, my well-rested sidekick and I decide to head back into the park. The skies are clear now, and well, Angela loves rainbows, soooo…

Our timing is off though, and while our plan was to head back down to the lower trail (and our favorite overlook) once the crowds had cleared, they stop letting people in at 5:30, even though you can stay until 6:00. It’s a bit of a downer walking back up the hill knowing we missed out by just a few minutes, but unlike most of the tourist that just pass through here for a day or two, we know we have plenty of time, and are already making plans to beat the crowds again tomorrow.

We have just one goal for today, and that is finally taking care of our visas for Brazil. Since everything we have read online leads us to believe it is possible to walk out the same day with one if you arrive early, we schedule a wake up call for 6:30am, with plans to grab a quick breakfast and then hop on the bus into town. That early, the sun is just coming up and the temperature is still cool enough to leave the mist from the falls intact.

The bus ride is quite uneventful, and despite the the town itself having little appeal, we feel like we’re on a bit of a roll as we belly up to the counter of the consulate with all of paperwork ready to go. The kindly old man confirms that we are looking for a tourist visa (we are), and with an understanding nod hands our papers back and tells us “come back Tuesday morning, pick up on Wednesday.” Uh oh.

What we don’t realize until now is that Monday is a Brazilian holiday, so even though we figured we had a day cushion if we couldn’t get same day service (our flight is scheduled for Tuesday afternoon), what we’re being told is that they don’t won’t even take our application until the day we need to leave, and that the fastest they will process it is 24 hours. I note the irony that the country that wouldn’t let us out just a few weeks ago, now doesn’t seem to want to let us in.

Now while some might say (not me of course) that my travel partner requires a little extra maintenance, there are moments when she shines, and makes it all worthwhile. This is one of them. And whether it is compassion, fear, the implied bribe she offers them, or some combination of the three, the old man and a colleague go into a back room and yell at each other for a few minutes before coming back to the counter and offering to have the visas done Tuesday by noon if we can bring the application back first thing that morning. It’s not as good as having them in hand today, but given the alternative, we’ll call it a victory.

With nothing specific to do (we had planned on wandering around town for the three hours we expected our visas to take), we check out a few shops (paying homage to Sweet Brown), try some ham and cheese empanadas that turn out to be fish (Angela’s Spanish is getting quite good – not), and a few bags of groceries to stock up the mini fridge in our room.

When we checked in, the bellman made a fairly bid deal about closing and locking the patio doors when we weren’t in the room. “There are monkeys here”, he said, “and if the door is open, they coming inside and have monkey party.” I’ve seen plenty of monkeys and never had a problem, much less a full on party, so don’t give the warning much thought. That is until later that afternoon, when the monkeys do show up, go through everything we have out on the patio and pulling at the doors to try and get in. At one point they get the screen door open, and moments later bring in the biggest of the group (who I’ve named Frank the Tank) to work on the heavy glass door. Angela is holding it closed, fortunately, but they definitely have this down to a science, and I have to wonder just what happens to a room if the do get in.

Tomorrow we’re back to the actual falls, this time with no shortage of camera gear.

As with our flight to Mendoza, today’s trip to Iguassu routes us first through Buenos Aires (whose domestic airport I now know like the back of my hand). With the layover, it’s another 6 hours of travel, but of all the places we have been so far, this is the first we have come to with a specific destination in mind, which makes the butt in seat time a little less painful.

The falls themselves are in a national park, and since the only one hotel within the park itself is a Sheraton, I have to force Angela kicking and screaming to stay there. It has been a bit of a haul to get here, but walking into the lobby, with floor to ceiling windows looking out over the falls, you quickly forget whatever hardships came before. The whole hotel is built to take advantage of the location, with this set as the view from our balcony for the next five days:

The trails start just outside the hotel door, so while we hadn’t really planned on exploring much today, it is too convenient to not at least check things out a little. There are two primary paths through the park, one below the falls, and one above. With a limited amount of time left before things close up for the day, we opt for the lower trail, which is marginally closer.

It’s no secret that I’m a sucker for a good waterfall, but these are in a class by themselves. The scale here makes even Niagra Falls seem less impressive, even though they are bigger by volume (and granted, it has been a while since I was there last, so time may have diminished their impact). What we didn’t bring this time, unfortunately, was a camera 🙁

Near the end of the trail is an overlook right near the bottom of one of the falls. I couldn’t be happier. Standing at the end, with no one else around, the roar of the water is all-consuming, and the blasts of spray and air coming from the rocks at the base threaten to tear the hat from my head. It is an awesome display of nature’s power, and despite getting soaked, it is impossible to resist.

In now squishy shoes, we head back up the trail to the hotel to plan for the days ahead. High on the agenda is a visa for Brazil, so first thing tomorrow we’re heading into town, hopefully returning later in the day, visas in hand. That will leave us three solid days to wander through the park and uber-touristy boat ride through the falls. Given the view, I suspect we’ll also find some time to just relax a little on the balcony with our Kindles.

It’s our last full day in Mendoza, and the last thing we have on our list is a day trip up to the Chile border. The scheduled pick up is 7:30am, so by 8:00 we’re feeling a little deja vu as we sit patiently in the lobby. The concierge assures us we have not been forgotten, and sure enough, ten minutes later our bus arrives.

We know from the brochure that the trip will take 10 hours. What it doesn’t say is that 8 of those will sitting on the bus, as it winds it way slowly up into the mountains. There are a few mildly interesting stops along the way, like the sulphur-rich hot springs that have colored the rocks yellow (that some yahoos in the 50’s tried to divert and turn into a hotel spa).

And this eerily empty ski resort, all boarded up for the off season.

But the star of the show is Aconcagua, the highest mountain in the Americas (2,500 feet taller than Mount McKinley).

We finish the tour with lunch at the top of the pass (about 10,000 feet), and then start the long ride back to Mendoza. It makes for a long day, and we’re probably quite spoiled having spent so much time in the mountains (the Rockies growing up, Cascades now, and even other parts of the Andes last year in Peru), so while we enjoyed the trip, we’d probably only give it a “meh”.

With the time we have left back in the city, we manage to get a few gifts for the boys, and grab what might be our last cheap steak for a while (our next hotel is pretty secluded, so options outside the onsite restaurant may be slim). From there it’s off to an early bedtime in preparation for our morning flight to Iguassu.

If you ever find yourself on Family Feud, and the topic is “things not to do if you have a back problem”, you will probably do just fine if you say “horseback riding.” Nevertheless, three days removed from the ER, we find ourselves in the lobby at 9:00am, waiting to be picked up for just that purpose. It’s a winery tour (there are some 1,200 of them around here) actually, but when looking at the options of seeing a bunch of wineries in a bus, that all start to look the same after a few “tastings”, or touring just one, but on horseback through the vineyards, the latter just seems more our style. My travel companion is understandably nervous, but adventurer that she is, wants to give it a try.

9:00 becomes 9:20, and then 9:40. By 10:00, even the concierge is getting nervous, and tracks down the tour company to find out that we have been forgotten. I’m less than thrilled to have wasted an hour sitting on the lobby (60 more minutes of sleep sounds pretty darn good right about now), but to their credit, they send a private car to pick us up and deliver us to the winery, not long after the minibus we should have been on arrived.

We are escorted quickly to our mounts, and after 90 seconds of training (that seems like all it should take to master a thousand pound animal), we elegantly climb aboard and head off.

The ride takes about 45 minutes, winding through the forest, along a riverbank, and through some fields. All the while, the snow-capped Andes loom in the distance, rounding out a idyllic setting.

As we near the winery, the real excitement begins. My seasoned travel companion, flaunting her equestrian skills is first in line behind our guide, and I am close behind. So we have no trouble hearing him point out the bees’ nest in the tree next to the trail or the path we need to stick to in order to avoid it. The less fortunate in our group are not so lucky, and in short order we hear the screams begin. Before it is all over, one of our group is tossed of her horse into the mud, and another takes off wild through the brush, frantically trying to remove her top (which is purely coincidental to my 5-star rating of this tour on Tripadvisor).

Our guide gets the group back under control and out of the woods where we can tie up the horses and assess the damage. The worst off of the lot has at least twenty stings across her arms and legs, but all things considered, we’re in pretty good shape. And as a small consolation, we’re right next to the winery, where a few tastings will help calm the nerves and numb the pain.

We get a quick tour, a lesson about the region, and then, most importantly, a few samples. Neither Angela or I have any ability to tell good wines and mediocre wines apart, but we swirl, sniff, and nod our heads knowingly when the guide takes about various flavors and aromas anyway. We even decide to pick up a few bottles for a more thorough testing back at the hotel.

With that, we are back on the horses for a final, shorter ride back to our bus. This segment passes through the vineyards, along a smooth, bee-free trail.

Having not ridden a lot of horses in my day, I’m pretty happy to have complete the circuit unscathed, and even more pleased that it has not made my cohort’s back pain any worse. Even the beat up members of our group are in better spirits and we are able to laugh (a lot) about the experience on the way back to town.

It’s a new day here in Mendoza (although much like the past few days, bright, sunny and in the 90s), and things are looking much more positive on the health front. A few days of sleep has done wonders for Angela, who is doing considerably better all around. We figure one more mellow day is probably wise, so have signed up for a couple of three hour sessions in the spa. Hotel massages are not my usual idea of a good time (and I’m still admittedly a little gun shy from massage experience in India a few years ago), but if relaxation is helping keep the pain at bay, an afternoon of pampering seems like a good way to take that to the next level.

While we are waiting, we take the time (after an ice cream stop) to book a few excursions with the time we have left, a sure sign that things are happily returning to normal. Given recent health-related events, the choices are a little odd (details to follow, of course), but we’re excited to give them a try.

On the massage front, there are no gory details here today. No stories about Chinese noodle, dry rub, full on breast massage, or rooster grinding his wedding tackle a little to close to my head. Instead there is just quiet, and stress leaving the body.

Rejuvenated, we head back out for dinner (steak for me of course, a party-sized steak sandwich for the missus).

Out on the periphery, the last week we have scheduled in Brazil is a looming as area of concern, given that the uncertainty here has precluded us from visiting the consulate to get visas. There is some discussion online that the turnaround time is very short in Iguassu, so we don’t have much choice but to fly by the seat of our pants on that one. Given how well things have gone to this point, what could possible go wrong?

As my travel buddy continues her sleep marathon, my day carries quietly on. Breakfast on the patio, a walk through the park, break for ice cream (of course), and some triage of email on my phone in the lobby. Every couple of hours I head up to the room, and stick my head in the door to make sure the curtains are still drawn and the light sound of snoring is still coming from the darkness.

With late afternoon approaching, the chemically-induced hibernation ends. All is not 100%, but the rest has put things on a more positive trajectory, which is a significant relief to us both. For the first time in a 36-hours we are able to leave the room together, enjoying a few hours of the day before the need to sleep returns.

All in all, a very quiet day on holiday road, but a very important one given the state of affairs not so long ago. Tomorrow seems like an inflection point for this trip, so we’ll see how the night goes.