This is more of a status update than an exciting blog post…

When we discovered that I couldn’t get a 90-day extension to stay the full six months in Brazil as a Belgian—hoping we’d sell our camper by then—we needed a new plan. The closest border was Paraguay. Having great memories from our previous visit, we decided to make it our South American base for a while, at least until the heat chased us off or a buyer popped up for Bella.

(As always, click on or hover over photos in galleries to read their captions.)

Tacuru Pucu, Hernandarias

After crossing the border in hectic Ciudad del Este on September 11, Mark, Maya, and I returned to the free Tacuru Pucu campground, managed by the Itaipu Dam organization. Just like five months earlier, we stayed the allowed 14 days, but the grounds and facilities had deteriorated further.

Some of the electricity and water hookups were broken, the WiFi worked intermittently, and none of the hot showers functioned anymore. Most days, it was hot enough to shower with cold water anyway—or we could use our own shower and refill the tank with potable water. Maya was only allowed in a restricted area, so long walks were out of the question.

Despite the bugs and the heat, we enjoyed a much-needed break. Our favorite amenity remained the covered palapa, where we could do hand laundry, eat at the picnic table, chat with new and familiar faces (including Larry, who stopped by briefly), and swing in our hammock. I even started reading a book again!

Those two weeks filled up fast with cleaning nearly everything in and on the camper, cooking delicious meals, writing, catching up on Brazil blog posts, and setting up a new computer after more files got corrupted on my ancient laptop. Now, I’m getting used to two new-to-me devices.

I also gave my published book some long-overdue attention and started experimenting with a virtual audiobook. After a few chapters, I abandoned the idea—Amazon’s beta version wasn’t ready for prime time. Meanwhile, Mark repaired our water pump after an entertaining ride to the free zone with a Colombian, a Cuban, and a Paraguayan.

Nights were restless. Each blistering, humid day seemed to culminate in a violent storm, leaving us with a couple of chilly mornings before the heat built again. Maya was terrified of the thunder and lightning, and fireworks or gunfire from a nearby military base didn’t help either.

Mark was sick for a few days as well; a bummer. When it was too hot to do anything but sit in the shade of our palapa, we fantasized and talked about the next chapter in our lives, after our camper sells.

Ñacunday Falls

On our way to Hohenau to revisit Manantial Campground, we stopped for a night at Ñacunday Falls. Reaching the campsite deep in the jungle required trimming branches, brushing past foliage, and careful maneuvering to get level, but the peace was worth it.

The waterfalls were impressive, though the infrastructure lacked proper viewpoints or hiking trails. It was a decent detour, but we enjoyed the drive through farmlands.

Manantial Campground, Hohenau

After another day of driving and errands, we arrived in Hohenau for what we hoped would be a peaceful and restorative stay—until “something happened” to get us moving again. As usual, comfort and ease aren’t words in our lifestyle dictionary.

Our main reasons for returning to Paraguay—and Hohenau in particular—were to find tranquility and good food. Many residents here are of German descent, which means delicious breads, pastries, cured meats, and cheese. To say we indulged is an understatement.

Peace, however, was harder to come by. The relentless biting gnats required DEET twice a day, and I’d still end up with a dozen bites. As summer approached, weddings filled every weekend. The only level spots were near the event hall, and we could not remain there when that area was rented. Since we had removed the camper for maintenance, cleaning, and side-trips with just the truck, it caused extra work each time we had to move for a party. One celebration even ran from 6 pm to 6 am—most of us left the campground altogether just to get some sleep.

At times, the heat was unbearable. For the first time in three years of overland travel through South America, we wished we had air conditioning. The stifling weather and biting insects tested our patience. My migraines flared almost daily, and the storm cycles brought more sleepless nights.

Still, there were bright spots: a pool to cool off (though Maya wasn’t allowed in that area, limiting our visits), nice morning or evening hikes across the vast property, fresh bread and pastry deliveries, laundry service, and a lively, international camping community.

I finally had time to test my “new” SLR digital camera and had fun photographing animals and flowers on the property of the campground.

We reunited with Larry, met a Belgian couple relocating to Paraguay, and were thrilled when our friends Heather and Jon from VermonsterRV detoured on their way to Uruguay to spend ten days with us. Unfortunately, I came down with what felt like Covid, the flu, or a severe sinus infection, which kept me out of most social activities—and away from their blissfully air-conditioned cabin. They’re now preparing to ship their rig to Europe, and we hope to reconnect there next year. It took two weeks for me to feel 100% again.

Despite the challenges, our time together was wonderful. We celebrated Jon’s birthday with sushi in Encarnación, shared many happy hours, walked to a pizzeria-microbrewery nearby (twice), and crossed items off our to-do list.

We also took a day trip to Bella Vista and Puerto Obligado with Heather and Jon.

After three weeks at Manantial—still one of the best campgrounds on the continent despite its quirks—a reason to move on had arrived. We left Paraguay even more exhausted than when we arrived.

But not before enjoying one last sushi meal in Encarnación.

Next up: Our monthly expense report for October 2025

Curious about a previous ten-year chapter in our nomadic lives, which includes eight years aboard a 35-foot sailboat in the tropics with dogs? Check out my compelling, inspiring, and refreshingly honest travel memoir: