Mark, Maya, and I set foot in Argentina for the first time on March 6th, 2024, coming from Chile and Bolivia. Sure, we hopped into Chile a few more times, and we enjoyed a three-month break in our home countries since then, but we feel we gave our explorations of Argentina a valiant attempt. So much so that, in the end, we couldn’t wait to leave. We realized that slow travel—while it has many advantages—can also wear you down in third-world countries.
(As always, click on or hover over photos in galleries to read their captions.)
After saying goodbye to our friends Heather and Jon in Mendoza, our trio headed east, with the Córdoba region as our first main destination. We stopped at a couple of places beforehand, but didn’t sleep well due to traffic noise and encountered restrictions in national parks because of Maya. After that, we gave up on Argentinian parks altogether.
What follows is a realistic account of our life and discomfort on the road, with a few sights thrown in. It wasn’t the best month we’ve had.
Route Northern Argentina
Dique Luján
We searched iOverlander for a quiet spot over Easter weekend and found a reasonable option by the dam of Luján. Coincidentally, we had picked a campsite close to a pilgrimage site with Stations of the Cross.
We managed decent walks with Maya and the sun finally gave us the warm weather we’d been waiting for after our coldest and wettest summer on record. But because of the heat, our fridge started acting up again—running too much, too hard, and draining the camper battery.
After one warm day, the clouds returned, power became precious again, and the wind picked up. The incessant shaking of the camper upset both Maya and our sleep. We had finally found a quiet place, but ended up moving in the middle of the night to find better wind protection among trees.
The following morning, we moved away from those same trees, fearing they might drop particles on the roof that would upset Maya. We found an open-air spot, but that didn’t help with power since it rained all day. We had to run the car for an hour just to charge the battery enough to work—our computers and Starlink need a lot of electricity. Mark and I also cleaned the fridge’s compressor with Q-tips and improved its ventilation. That helped it run more efficiently.
On Easter morning at 8am, teenagers in two cars pulled up next to us, opened their doors, and blasted music. We had planned to leave anyway, so we took off for a long day in the car.
Capilla del Monte
For some reason, Maya had become increasingly uncomfortable on Argentina’s bumpy roads. This time, she just couldn’t settle and kept climbing forward—a dangerous situation, especially for Mark, who was driving. Eventually, we had to stop and tie her down in the back seat. It was a long ride indeed.
We settled by the lake in Capilla del Monte for a couple of days to catch up on writing, work, and research. We tried planning a stay in Paraguay with friends through Airbnb, which proved trickier than expected. While we could find dog-friendly rentals, it was rarely clear whether our “giant” camper would fit in the provided parking. Mostly, it wouldn’t.
One day, we tried walking around the lake to visit a dam across from our spot, but fences, tall sticky grasses, and thorns blocked our path. The town itself didn’t prove interesting, and our planned ride to the Jesús María mission was abandoned when we saw the 50-mile potholed dirt road ahead. We gave up on both the attraction and the idea of a quiet night.
Alta Gracia
Instead of heading to the mission, we rerouted south to Alta Gracia, where I’d hoped to visit the historic center and a museum. Again, trouble found us. Our anticipated campsite was in a tight park with low-hanging trees and narrow paths—impossible for our camper.
Cordoba Area
While heading to a second option, we got stopped by a low tree with parked cars blocking the open side. In these Argentinian towns, trees are rarely trimmed. We had to reverse a long stretch and then drive the wrong way down a one-way lane just to pick up our route again.
Eventually, we reached an old train station where parking was straightforward. It was going to be another loud night, as it usually is in cities, but at least we had space. Mark had had enough of driving and congestion for the day, so he stayed home to work while I explored.
I took my time reaching the plaza and visiting a few historic buildings before heading to a more upscale neighborhood.
There, I visited Casa de Che—the childhood home of Che Guevara—now a museum with information signs in Spanish. I enjoyed learning more about this revolutionary.
Córdoba
After another loud, sleepless night, we decided to tackle Córdoba. I’d been looking forward to its historic center, but we had agreed we wouldn’t sleep there. After running some errands, I dragged Mark and Maya on a long walk to photograph the city’s older architecture.
The clouds that day added to the already dreary atmosphere. I had hoped to admire the colonial buildings under a blue sky. The Museum of Memory was touching and worthwhile, despite the plaques only being in Spanish.
Leaving Córdoba proved as frustrating as arriving. We got stuck in heavy traffic and found ourselves on yet another narrow street with low-hanging trees and no escape. Branches scraped our camper’s roof, solar panels, and sides. Again, Mark swore off cities.
But the day wasn’t over. Upon reaching our next iOverlander destination, we followed a narrow dirt road to a wrong GPS point. We didn’t know it was wrong at the time, of course. Tree branches brushed the sides as we pressed forward. Then we faced a downed tree.
There was no place to turn around. Mark had to reverse the entire distance (1km or 3/4 mile) while I guided him via the side mirrors, stepping in the brush. It was tedious, tricky, and time-consuming—and the camper took more scratches.
Finally settled right before dark, close to the highway noise, after unsuccessfully trying to find a better spot.
Sauce de Luna
The next day consisted of an eight-hour drive to cover 300 miles. We felt exhausted from another terrible night—not just from traffic noise, but from what we think was a nearby plant where employees shouted through a PA system all night. You can’t make this stuff up.
Skipping Santa Fe and Paraná—cities I’d initially been excited about for their riverfronts—turned out to be a smart choice. Maya behaved better on the back seat, the five police checkpoints passed smoothly, we avoided a few pricey tolls by sticking to back roads, and the pavement was surprisingly decent. We settled at a free municipal campground for multiple days.
There, we got some work done, did laundry, bathed Maya, and relaxed a bit. I applied for two more jobs, passed the required tests and certifications with high marks, and—once again—heard nothing back. This seems to be the new normal. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve tried to find work.
Our nights were still interrupted—by Maya’s restlessness, noisy motorcycles, and the smell of burning trash. On our last day, a swarm of wasps nearly chased us away (Mark got stung), but they eventually disappeared and peace returned. Spraying Windex around our site helped.
Bonpland
After another long day on the road, we moved from one free municipal campground to the next. The campground in Bonpland had a caretaker who was constantly on top of us, eager to help and earn his tip.
Finally, it was quiet, and we looked forward to catching up on sleep. The mosquitoes were manageable, and the weather was very pleasant. After a decent first night and a calm day, a storm rolled in, and the caretaker started yelling outside our window at 3:30 am—he may have knocked on the door, too.
Our free camping spot in Bonpland – space and privacy (and insects)
From his frantic warnings, we understood that the grassy field we were parked on could flood during heavy rain, potentially trapping us. Although we had planned to stay a few days, we decided to follow his advice and move to higher ground. We returned to our original spot the next day after a night filled with lightning, thunder, and drizzle. Maya, once again, was not a happy camper.
May had begun, the area had little to offer, and we had already “killed” enough time before heading to Paraguay, where we would meet friends in the second half of the month. So, we kept moving north through Argentina.
Our route in Northeastern Argentina
Yapeyú
Our next destination was Yapeyú, the birthplace of liberator San Martín, who is honored throughout southern South America with streets and plazas bearing his name. On that first hot afternoon, I explored the town solo for two hours. I discovered the ruins of San Martín’s childhood home, lovely parks, and several historic buildings—all while soaking up the peaceful vibe of this village.
The following day, I took Mark and Maya on a similar walk, focusing on the green spaces along the Uruguay River to avoid loose dogs and the harsh sunshine. Nights, however, were restless—disturbed by tree nuts falling on a metal roof nearby, stray motorcycles, and motorboats cruising the river.
La Cruz
La Cruz turned out to be a larger city than we expected. We managed to camp at the riverfront, but it was a popular cruising spot for motorcyclists and car drivers. We moved once at 10 pm seeking more peace but were only partly successful.
Aside from losing hours trying to figure out whether a translation job offer was a scam (it was) and worrying about our limited power supply (due to cloudy weather and short drives), Mark and I ventured into the town center, leaving Maya at home. There, we admired a charming church, cobblestone streets, and an old sundial built in the 1700s by native people under Jesuit guidance.
(The only reason I could take photos of resting dogs was because our dog was not with us. The scene is usually less peaceful.)
Posadas
Our final stop in Argentina was Posadas, a substantial river city with a notable skyline. Here, our goal was to obtain paperwork for Maya to cross the border into Brazil. The international permit would be valid for sixty days, and reports suggested we didn’t need it for Paraguay.
The skyline of Posadas
Challenges came in many forms. The day we arrived was oppressively hot and humid, with temperatures in the 90s Fahrenheit (30s Celsius), cooling only slightly at night. Finding parking to visit a vet proved impossible. Camping beside the noisy Costanera road while sweating buckets left us with little sleep.
Then came a particularly bad day. After a nice sunset and a sleepless night, a long-anticipated rainstorm hit early morning. The downpour was so heavy we couldn’t walk to the vet or the nearby agriculture department. It was Friday, and we urgently needed to start the paperwork, which would already take five days due to the weekend.
Unable to do anything in the blinding rain and being exhausted, all three of us fell asleep. Luckily, something woke us at 11 am—a now-or-never moment since the vet closed at noon and Senasa (the agriculture office) at 3 pm.
With little time left, we drove around the city, parking wherever we could, and walked only as much as absolutely necessary. We dragged Maya through the rain. First to the vet, where we obtained a health certificate after some pleading. Then to Senasa, where it took an hour to apply for the international permit. We were told we could pick it up the following Tuesday.
Our next stop was a man who refilled US-style propane tanks. Low-hanging trees blocked us from reaching his house, so we walked the last stretch. He wasn’t home, but his mother assured us the job would be done within two hours if we left our bottle, showing us a price sheet. We returned to our noisy campsite and worked for a couple of hours.
When we came back for our nearly full tank, we paid the agreed amount. Then we asked if he could top up the bottle, which had been our request. Once filled, he demanded more money than the price sheet stated, leading to a lengthy, heated argument.
Getting our propane tank topped up
We told him to empty the bottle and return our money—we would find another place. With only limited cash left, since we planned to leave the country soon, we had offered those pesos as a compromise. He initially refused but eventually accepted after twenty more minutes. We grabbed our bottle and left a scathing review on iOverlander. If we had known he’d charge that final price, we wouldn’t have used his services. This experience reminded us why confirming prices ahead of time is crucial.
But our day wasn’t over. We drove to our intended camping spot along the busy coastal road south of Posadas. Seeking quieter surroundings, we followed a red dirt road—turned into a slick mess of clay-like mud by recent rains.
Soon, the car was slipping and sliding, tire treads clogged with red mud. There was no place to turn around. Our situation grew dire. The path remained narrow but ran alongside a train track. With Mark behind the wheel and me guiding him carefully outside, we maneuvered—inch by inch—onto the gravel edge by the train tracks with the front tires, using the bushy berm behind us for traction. It must have been a 16-point turn, but we succeeded in turning around and sliding back to the main road without accidents or getting stuck.
This muddy red track was trouble!
We had two choices: sleep beside the busy road near the river in South Posadas, or drive ten miles in the wrong direction to camp at a “quiet parking lot.” What would you do? We chose the latter—it also gave us extra driving time to charge our camper battery.
Camped at a “quiet” parking lot
Using the little fuel left (which was supposed to get us to a cheaper Paraguay), we found the “peace” we sought. Except it was Friday night. One group of youngsters partied on the edge of the lot until 1 am, while another parked right behind us blasting their reverberating boom boxes until 3 am. The rest of the night was filled with the usual noise pollution of screaming motorcycles and barking dogs. All we wanted was to sleep. Needless to say, we were dead tired and annoyed by morning—our exhaustion was mounting.
This riverside parking lot could have been a nice spot if it weren’t for the trash and lack of maintenance. We had to work the next morning, but by mid-afternoon, the whining motorcycles—one out of five making enough noise to drown out any conversation, let alone thinking—drove us crazy. We couldn’t take it anymore.
Desperate for a quiet night, we drove to a fuel station said to have a flat, relatively quiet grassy lot at the back, buffered from the road by the building. We checked it out but found only a swamp (thanks to the massive rainstorm), swarms of mosquitoes, and humming semi-trucks.
We bought some more fuel and returned to South Posadas, by the riverfront, to spend the night alongside the highway. At least this noise was steady—we could handle steady noise. Mark and I looked longingly across the Paraná River. Paraguay beckoned. Everything would be better in Paraguay. We couldn’t endure two more nights in Argentina!
The following day, Sunday, we crossed the border into Paraguay. I’d figure out how to pick up the dog permit another way. All we needed now was sun for our solar panels—and peace for our bodies, health, and sanity.
Note: As you can probably tell, life on the road in South America is wearing on us. Like any previous adventure, when negative experiences overpower the positive ones, we start looking for an exit strategy. Mark and I plan to sell our camper on this continent later this year and prepare for the next journey. We still enjoy our current travels but feel that restful breaks are becoming ever more important.
Next up: Our monthly expense report for May 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:
Discover more from Roaming About
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
June 4, 2025 at 10:41
A year! Isn’t it scary how fast time can go the older we get? Sorry to hear you experienced your coldest and wettest summer. For us, that was the summer of 2022 in Alaska. In August 2022, it rained 25 days. I detect a theme here…WIND! It seems wind has played a major role in your journey this past year. Love the video of the teenagers and the loud music. The video proves it. Those are beautiful photos of Alta Cracia and Cordoba. Your final paragraph explains the tone of this blog post. Your frustration was quite apparent and the mounting negative experiences must be incredibly taxing. As I mentioned before, we are sorry to hear about your plans to sell your rig later this year, but having been on the road full-time now for 9 years, we understand. Thanks for sharing the good and the bad with us. Jim
June 5, 2025 at 09:16
Hi Jim,
Time flies way too fast. Not only do we jump from week to week like it’s nothing, but a new month is always right around the corner. And, before you realize it, the end of the year is approaching. Crazy!
Wow, that was a lot of rain in Alaska. When you rely on solar power (like us) that would be untenable. Here in Paraguay, we are having a lot of thunderstorms and cloudy skies as well and it will be the main reason we have to move on. We can’t just sit still when we don’t get enough power in to work and run our fridge. It’s annoying.
In general, we can cope with the wind. The biggest issue? Maya. Wind brings particles from trees that fall on the roof, which freaks her out and keeps everyone awake at night (like last night, again). Now, from the moment she hears the wind pick up, she anticipates the “danger on the roof” and she turns frantic.
The only reason we are selling our rig here is because it served its purpose for this continent and we don’t want the cost and stress involved to ship it. We did that once and we’ve learned our lesson with that. Our next adventure will require a different rig. We have had many different travel vehicles and vessels over the last two decades. 🙂
June 4, 2025 at 10:53
What a month! Maybe I won’t try out your nomadic existence. I am curious about your next adventure.
June 5, 2025 at 09:17
Hi Jacqui,
The nomadic existence is challenging. Even in modern times. 🙂
We have a feeling that our next adventure will take place in Europe, where we hope to find the right camper for our trio.
June 4, 2025 at 12:57
Your title suggests that you’ve hit a milestone, CONGRATULATIONS!
It seems loud noises are as much of a nuisance as pot-holed roads in your travels. And the rule about no dogs in Argentinian parks is really dumb in my opinion.
Thank you for journaling about your journey. The shadow photos of your three is priceless.
So happy to catch up, Liesbet.
June 5, 2025 at 09:22
Hi Marian,
I think the milestone is finally leaving the bottom part of the continent and discovering new territories and cultures. 🙂
I think what’s wearing on us most after almost three years in South America is that nothing ever goes according to plan (as far as we have a plan) and that every day brings new obstacles – or repeated ones.
When you depend on the weather for your comfort and electricity input and it’s constantly cloudy or rainy, it gets old. When you depend on being on a budget and prices rise – and keep rising – weekly, it gets old. When you just know the night will be interrupted by something, it gets old…
June 4, 2025 at 17:15
It was like that with us and Perú. Once things seemed to be unpleasant all the time, we were done. Getting good rest is so important. When basic things start to be a struggle all the time, it is bad for your state of mind.
But I’m glad you still got to enjoy some sights. It’s wild that they have enclosed the remains of San Martín’s house in a building like that. I think I would have enjoyed seeing Che’s house and learning more about him.
June 5, 2025 at 09:28
Hi Duwan,
Yeah, I totally understand how you felt after six months in a country like Peru. We got really exhausted living on the road there as well. It was draining. I think the entirety of Latin America is draining when you are constantly in the midst of its hustle and bustle with no quiet sanctuary to escape to.
You phrase it so right by saying “when basic things become a struggle.” That’s exactly it. When you can’t sleep at night, you can’t afford any splurges, or you have to be painfully careful with electricity, the moods turn sour quickly and frequently.
I really have no clue how people can be forever cheery when being nomads for decades. Maybe it’s better when you’re retired. Although, the challenges and the exhaustion are real for everyone. Maybe that’s why pretty much every other long-term overlander we know returns to their home countries for the summer months…
I’m looking for a documentary about Che, since he was quite an intriguing character.
June 4, 2025 at 18:07
I can see why you shed no tears leaving Argentina behind. I can’t imagine doing what you do and being sleep-deprived. I hope you’ve found happier environs as you’ve traveled on. I’m looking forward to learning about your future plans!
June 5, 2025 at 09:31
Hi Janis,
It’s so tiresome not finding peace and realizing that every night will bring its challenges. I guess we need a break. We are happier in Paraguay at the moment, but of course other (and similar) challenges persist here. It’s just part of the lifestyle in developing nations. I guess that’s why slow travel gets old here and why most long-term travelers take frequent breaks in their home countries.
No plans set I stone yet, but we are thinking about Europe…
June 4, 2025 at 18:36
That all sounds awful. Lack of sleep would certainly get to me.
You’re not taking your camper back to the States? You haven’t had it that long. How will you get all of your belongings home?
June 5, 2025 at 09:43
Hi Alex,
We’ve had this current truck for four years and the camper for three. We only owned the previous truck camper (which was fancy and which we sold with a profit) that sat in the truck for one year. His name was “Temp” and our set-up was called “T&T” (Thirsty and Temp). 🙂
You pose an interesting question and my answer might surprise you. First, let me explain that we don’t have a home (our vehicles/vessels over the last 21 years have been our home and our legal address that of my mother-in-law) and don’t have many belongings.
When you look around your house, which are the items that are truly important and that define who you are? You’ll be surprised at how little you actually need. We will be able to transport our most precious goods in carry-on bags (and maybe one checked bag each) when the time is right to leave. We plan to sell our camper “ready to go,” which means including everything someone needs to live and travel in it, like kitchen ware, bedding, tools…
Secondly, we have changed gears a lot over the decades. This will be the fifth or sixth lifestyle transition we make and the second international one. The first one was selling our sailboat in Tahiti and taking all our belongings to the US in two carry-ons and two checked bags each. All that baggage was included into the ticket back then. And, our boat was much bigger than our current camper.
One time we had a rental car to carry our dog, electrical bikes, and all our belongings after selling our campervan out west. This time, we will fly again. Luckily, we sold the bikes years ago. We will start over in another vehicles on another continent with our most precious belongings and our dog.
June 4, 2025 at 19:29
Liesbet, I am actually happy that you guys have plans to sell your camper and move on to another chapter – whatever that may be. This past year has felt burdensome, and you sound weary. I know you love the lifestyle, and there have been many wonderful moments (thank you for sharing it all), but South America has not been kind. I can’t wait to see what’s next for you all. Blessings…
June 5, 2025 at 09:49
Hi Suzanne,
Yeah. That’s exactly my point about being here “too long.” And we are not getting any younger. The discomfort and struggles are, indeed, wearing on us. Especially since we don’t seem to find a break, no matter which season or which country. Adding jobs and a dog to the mix makes things just that much harder.
Believe it or not, but South America is actually one of the easier continents/areas in the world to travel overland. It’s relatively safe, the bureaucracy is minimal, and the living cost not too high all things considered. I know that Central America (from experience in another truck camper with two dogs in 2006), Asia (from experience as a backpacker), and Africa (partly from experience as a traveler and partly from hearing friends’ reports) are more tiring and challenging. That’ll be for when we are totally rested again in a first-world country! 🙂
June 4, 2025 at 19:52
Hi, Liesbet – I have greatly enjoyed following your adventures and I always admire your rich, descriptive writing. I can totally understand about restful breaks becoming more and more important for the three of you. I look forward to discovering what you decide to do next.
June 5, 2025 at 09:52
Hi Donna,
Thanks for your continued support and encouragement. We try to find a balance in this lifestyle and actually plan restful breaks from time to time, but somehow those never work out as expected. I think it’s all just part of the lifestyle and we are ready for a little breather. But it’s also time for something different. We still hope to enjoy Paraguay and Brazil, before we leave this continent.
June 5, 2025 at 07:52
Oh, my! I’d have wanted to get out of Argentina as quickly as you wanted, based on what you described in this post. What with all the noise and the small drive tracks filled with potholes and mud and hanging trees scratching poor Thirty Bella’s bodywork, it’s a period, I think, that the three of you will want to forget quickly, Liesbet.
I hope Paraguay has proven to be much happier and a place where all of you have been able to catch up on sleep and rest. Your last paragraph speaks volumes and emphasises the need for a change.
June 5, 2025 at 09:59
Hello Hugh,
Traveling too slowly has its pitfalls. Mark and I discussed this, but, to be honest, we can’t really travel faster, because this is our lifestyle and not a vacation.
We have to deal with the tedious things of life that everyone else in the western world deals with (work, taxes, administration, communications, red tape, a dog, household tasks, laundry, shopping) on top of the thousands of miles of driving and sightseeing. Everything mundane takes longer on the road (imagine shopping in a new store every few days and trying to find what you need over and over again, or locating safe places to sleep every night, where to fill with propane gas and water, …)
Unfortunately, our experiences in Argentina are pretty similar to most of South America and I’m afraid that we are losing our energy and strength to deal with it all gracefully. Which means it’s time for something else. Something more comfortable for a while, to catch our breaths.
Paraguay has made us happier, but the amount of rain and cloudy skies (and motorcycle noise) will keep us going again here as well. Every time we think we could actually “live” somewhere for a week or longer (and rest up), something happens that makes us leave. Oh well. It truly is part of this lifestyle.
June 6, 2025 at 05:17
The rain seems to be following you, Liesbet. Although it will soon be winter in that part of the world, I couldn’t cope with the humidity unless I was travelling along the coast, where sea breezes help.
I completely understand what you’re saying about shopping at different superstores. It drives many people mad when the local superstore rearranges everything.
You did mention Brazil in this post. Is that your next stop? Given the size of Brazil, I expect it will take you until the end of the year. But where will you go after that? What about an adventure in North America, including Alaska?
June 6, 2025 at 09:24
Hi Hugh,
The good thing about the start of winter – June 21 – is that the days will get longer again. And, hopefully, sunnier as well, since the dry season arrives. We surely could use some solar power for our battery!
You are correct: our next destination is Brazil. Mark is still waiting for his visa, though. It’s taking much longer than expected and hopefully all will be okay for us to visit Iguazu Falls next week.
Tourists only get three months in Brazil. Maybe we can get an extension, because I agree with you that we could easily spend six months exploring it. If we have enough energy and Brazil is less taxing than the other Latin America countries. We shall see. In a month, we are heading to the coast there.
Mark, Maya, and I spent years traveling around North America in campers in the past and I visited Alaska with my ex in the summer of 2004. Plus, the political climate in the US is keeping us away. We are contemplating Europe at the moment and loosely looking for a camper there. 🙂
June 5, 2025 at 16:00
You sound very fed up! I hope things get better soon.
June 6, 2025 at 09:09
Thanks, Anabel. I’m trying to remember if countries like Colombia and Ecuador, at the beginning of our travels down here, were quieter or if we could handle the noise and sleepless nights better with our “fresh” bodies and minds. Now, we are both getting exhausted.
June 5, 2025 at 19:48
Hi Liesbet, I hope your time in Paraguay will be much better. Getting adequate and restful sleep is important for us humans to function well and stay healthy. I look forward to discovering where you decide to go next after South America.
June 6, 2025 at 09:14
Hi Natalie,
The main thing I remember from sailing for eight years was the many sleepless and worrisome nights at anchor or on passage. When we started living in an RV many years ago, I was grateful for the more settled nights and better sleep. That was in North America.
Now, in Latin America, the nights are starting to resemble those from our sailing years, which I really am not so keen on. The culture here is loud. There is nothing we can do about it. The locals love their music from boomboxes and, because there’s not much else to do, they love cruising around public areas and streets (where we are usually camped) with their backfiring and squealing motorcycles, all night long.
We could live with this during the weekend, but we’ve noticed and experienced that in many cities this behavior happens during the week as well. And that’s where we have to give up on sleep, which, obviously, is causing exhaustion, depression, and unhappiness with the lifestyle.
In general, we are enjoying Paraguay!
June 6, 2025 at 00:47
Liesbet, I applaud and bow down to you for sticking it out for so long in the face of miserable nights, persistently bad weather, noisy and inconsiderate neighbors, and roads you keep having to back up on because of the low-hanging branches. I’m glad to know that you are generally preferring Paraguay now. I’m curious to read of your experiences there, as you’re the only other people I know of that’s traveled there. I have very fond memories of our time there, as we had a great experience with a driver/guide I found online. Hoping for better days ahead for the three of you,
Annie
June 6, 2025 at 09:18
Hi Annie!
This lifestyle is not for people who prefer comfort, routine, and cushiness. We know that. It’s the trade-of for an exciting and adventurous existence. With fresh minds and bodies, we can handle a lot of the discomfort and nuisances – to an extent – but after many sleepless nights, we are getting fed up with it. I’m thinking three years in South America will be more than enough. 🙂
I’m glad you had good experiences in Paraguay, the underdog of South America. The people are very friendly, welcoming, and accommodating, reminding us of Colombians.
Despite the lack of world-famous sites, we are enjoying our time here, staying longer than anticipated. The weather – while luckily not hot and humid – could be better, though, since all we’ve seen is clouds and rain, which doesn’t help with our power issues. Where is the sun? Brazil?
June 6, 2025 at 10:00
Hi Liesbet!
As always I am in awe at how you continue to meet the challenges of your lifestyle over and over again. Yes you’ve seen some incredible sites and had some cool experiences but you also seem to have had more than your fair share of difficulties. And still you persevere! There is no doubt in my mind I would have thrown in the towel long ago!!!
HOWEVER, I will say that it has been fun and interesting to follow along your journey and hear your stories and see some of your breathtaking photos! It’s sort of like watching a movie where the hero and heroine are faced with all sorts of obstacles on their path and yet continue. As when watching a movie I sometimes grimace, close my eyes and shake my head. But I also applaud when you carry on and succeed. It’s even more special because we know you.
So thanks for the “adventure movie!” so far. But I personally will understand when it is time for you to end this particular story line and start the next one.
Sending good vibes from Arizona. ~Kathy