Mayhem in Margerita
Trip Start
Jan 23, 2006
1
20
28
Trip End
Jan 31, 2007
Isla Margerita,
Paraguay
Thursday, March 30, 2006
We had been told to watch out for scams, involving locals who pretend to be police and then ask to check your passports, and then make off with them. We hadn't been in a taxi for more than 5 minutes (on our way to the bus station to get the hell out of Ciudad de Este), when a car pulled us over and "cops" jumped out. They wanted to see our passports - surprise surprise... After much negotiation and some trepidation I flashed them the immigration stamp in my passport (there is a $50 fine for not having one), whilst gripping, white knuckled, onto it. It seemed to satisfy them and off they went... perhaps they were real cops, or maybe they realised they would need the jaws of life to get the passport out of my hands.
We bussed down to Asunción, where we spent the night in a hotel that looked more like brothel - sadly it was not.
Another beautiful sunset on Rio Paraguay
We dined at a really local restaurant and by the reaction of the staff I think we must have been the first gringos to do so. In Asunción we also found the best supermarket we have seen so far in South America - amazing!Our plan was to get up to Conception, where a boat could take us on the Rio Paraguay to the top of Paraguay, and then another could take us further to Corumba, Brazil, and the border town to Bolivia - our ultimate goal. We should have known better than to have a plan... Things went slightly West here, when we found there was no immigration in Conception, so we could not go up to Bahia Negra and onto Bolivia, because we couldn't get an exit stamp for Paraguay. The other propblem being that from Bahia Negra things got even more unknown and it could cost us up to US$500 to get out of there. We found there was an immigration office 2 days up the river, Isla Margareta, where we could get off, and head across the river into Brazil. All this info was gathered sipping coffee with the most helpful Brazilian guy at the Brazil Consulate. We did a big shop for our boat food, booked our tickets and got a bit of R&R in the very laid back and super cool town of Conception.
The following day we got down to the boat at 8am, 3 hours before the boat was due to leave. The boat was packed, with hammocks hanging everywhere, people's bags on every bench and produce occupying every corner! We searched the boat up and down to find a place to crash, and eventually decided on the 1.5 meter wide piece of floor outside the captain's door, next to the helm.
Local on the boat
It was at least a place to slepp for the 2 nights, but we would have to operate a rotation for the filthy floor to sleep, because there was only space for 2 people on the floor. At bang on 11am, the boats engines roared into life, and we started to back out of the dock. Next thing there was a large commotion, ropes were thrown to the bank, and we were tied back onto land. After an hour or two, we found a local who spoke a little English and he told us that the propeller had broken. We were delayed by 7 hours, while the boat hands took the old prop off and replaced it with another. This was quite an operation as the boat remained in the water while these guys swopped over to the new prop which arrived on a horse-drawn cart, and then carried into the river by about 8 guys. Problem for them was that the toilets which were situated right at the back of the boat were in heavy use, and all the bits and pieces went straight into the river right about where they were working.Anyway eventually we left....The locals seemed to think we were part of a circus, and could not stop staring at us. We didn't see one other backpacker in the whole of Paraguay, so I suppose a couple of blondies and 4 white skins were a little unique. I think they also found it quite funny that we would cook in our tiny little area at the front of the boat, ram ourselves in there to sleep, and spend much of the day staring out of the windows at the banks of the river looking for wildlife. We were also positioned on the steering cable and it would scrape back and forth next to us all day and all night.
Local woman
Sleep was hard to come by, but the views and people were amazing. This boat basically traveled every week up the river taking produce, TV's, fridges, chicken, motor-bikes and well anything that goes...there were no roads going into the villages so when the boat did stop it caused a huge group to gether on the banks. There were also some incredibly funny incidents, like when at 2am in the morning we stopped at some village and a whole lot of people got on. There was one drunken man staggering around the dock with a suitcase. He tried to board the boat up the gangplank, but halfway up he lost his balance and clattered head first along with his suitcase into the Caiman infested water below. Luckily for him his suitcase floated and was bobbing around in the water until he was rescued by some people watching form the banks.We all had no idea of what to expect from Paraguay, but found the Paraguayans to be some of the most friendly and inquisitive people we have met so far, and when we finally got of the boat and entered Brazil, we were all sad to be leaving so soon. They made such an effort to chat to us, even though it often consisted of some nodding and other gestures. It was a great trip up the river, not much sleep, not comfortable, but well worth it, in fact so far a huge highlight. I would have liked to spend more time in Paraguay, which among other things has frogs the size of small dogs.
The English speaking local told us that at Bahia Negra there was a South African family who had lived there for 5 years. They were farmers, who made yogurt, and had a small boat that they ferried people about in. You can only get to Bahia Negra by boat and it takes over 3 days, so it is a very strange and remote place for Saffers to be living. Apparently they now speak Spanish and Guarani the local language that Paraguayans are so proud of.
After completing the Paraguayan immigration formalities, we were rowed across the river to Brazil by an old man who looked about 90. He kept saying BOMB, BOMB! I began to think he would row us out to the middle of the river and blow us up, but then realised we were now in Portuguese territory and "bom" means "good"!
