The rotors were still spinning down when the pilot gave me a thumbs up. I unclipped the harness and stepped onto the tarmac, my ears ringing with the echo of the engine. That was it. That was a view of the falls that no boat and no walkway can give you. We were up for maybe thirty-five minutes, and for thirty of them, I just stared. The Garganta do Diabo from above isn't a waterfall. It's a wound in the earth that happens to be full of water. You see the whole system, the way the river splits and then funnels into that chasm. It's violence and beauty in the same breath. I'll never forget it.
I'm Rafael, and this is the Brazil Travel Podcast. I'm three days into my life here, based in Foz do Iguaçu on the triple frontier. Today was about getting above it all, but also getting down to the business of what a normal Sunday looks like in this city. Because that's the thing about settling in, right? The big sights are incredible, but the life happens in the spaces between them. And I wanted to see those spaces.
First, a bit of context. After the helicopter, I wanted to walk off the adrenaline. I grabbed a coffee at Aloa Coffee, a small place off Avenida Brasil. A double espresso set me back about R$8. The barista, a guy named Lucas, was telling me about the crowds in January. He said the city doubles in size during high season. Today, though, the streets were calm. Winter here is the dry season, and it shows. The air is clear, the temperature sits around 24 degrees, and the light has that soft, golden quality in the morning. It feels like a permanent autumn afternoon.
From the coffee shop, I went to check on something I'd heard about. Did you see the news about Macuco Safari? The boat tour on the Iguaçu River had an accident last week. A boat capsized and a tourist sadly died. It shook the whole town. The tours were suspended for a few days. I was told they resumed on the first of August after safety checks, and apparently over a thousand people went on the first weekend back. It's a delicate thing, talking about it. I walked down to the visitor centre, not to take a ride, but just to see the mood. The queue was long. People were laughing, taking photos. The energy felt solid, which is good for the local economy. But it's a reminder that this river is powerful and demands respect.
The cost of that respect, by the way, is rising. Entry to the Iguaçu National Park on the Brazilian side is now around R$114. That's roughly twenty-one US dollars. And that's just to get in. The Macuco tour is separate. The helicopter was separate again. You can easily spend R$600, over a hundred dollars, on a single day of waterfall activities. I'm not saying it's not worth it, because it absolutely is. But budget for it. This isn't a cheap day out, it's an investment in a memory.
After the river, I decided to get properly lost. I took a local bus from the Terminal de Transporte Urbano, the TTU downtown. A single ride costs about R$5. It's a cheap way to see the city, and you get a feel for how people actually live. I rode out towards the outskirts, past the Vila Portes district with its busy street markets, and then into the green, leafy streets of Jardim América. It felt like a different country from the tourist strip on Avenida das Cataratas. Kids were playing football in a dusty lot. A man was selling chipa, that delicious Paraguayan cheese bread, from a cooler on the corner. I bought two for R$5. Savoury, warm, perfect.
This is the heartbeat of Foz. It's not just the falls; it's the mix. You have the Brazilian, Argentinian, and Paraguayan cultures all washing over each other. The city was founded as a village in 1910, a remote outpost for mate and timber, and it only really grew when the Friendship Bridge to Paraguay opened in 1965 and then the Itaipu Dam was built in the 70s and 80s. Today, it's a hub of over 250,000 people, with something like eighty nationalities represented. There's a huge Lebanese community, which is why the Omar Ibn Al-Khattab Mosque, the largest in Latin America, is here.
I took the bus back towards the centre and wandered towards the Itaipu side of town, into the Vila A district. This is a workaday area, not pretty, but real. I found a small, unassuming lunch spot, the kind of place where the menu is written on a whiteboard. I had a 'prato feito' — the classic set lunch of rice, beans, a grilled meat, salad, and a drink. It cost me R$31. About six dollars. A full, hearty meal that fuels you for the rest of the day. It's this contrast that defines Foz right now. You can spend R$114 on a park entrance and R$31 on a meal that feeds you like a king.
The afternoon was for logistics. My SIM card and bank account are sorted from the last couple of days, but I still needed to sort out a few things. I went to a Banco do Brasil branch, the big agency on Avenida Brasil. I needed to sort out some documentation for my apartment lease. The guy at the counter, Carlos, was patient, even when my Portuguese stumbled. He confirmed what I'd been told: to get anything done long-term, you need your CPF, your tax ID, first. Then a bank account. Then a proof of address. It's a chain. He also mentioned that Pix — Brazil's instant payment system — is the way to go for everything. Cash is often seen as a nuisance.
The rent in the centre is about R$1,900 a month for a one-bedroom flat. That's around 350 dollars. In a city where a bus ride is R$5 and a beer from the supermarket is under R$5, your money goes a long way. But then you get a taxi for 8 km and it's R$38. The costs are uneven. You have to plan for the big-ticket items like the falls, but the daily rhythm of life is surprisingly affordable, especially compared to São Paulo or Rio. This is a place where you can live well without burning through savings.
As the sun started to sink lower, I took a drive out towards the Marco das Três Fronteiras. I mentioned this landmark before, but I hadn't seen it in the evening. The complex sits at the confluence of the Iguaçu and Paraná rivers, the exact point where Brazil, Argentina, and Paraguay meet. There's a tall obelisk, painted in the national colours. During the day it's a viewpoint, but I was told the sunset show is the real draw. I got there just in time. The music-and-light show kicked off as the sky turned orange and purple. It's a bit theatrical, very touristic, but standing there, watching the sun set on three countries at once, you feel the weight of the place. This isn't just a tourist gimmick; it's the geopolitical heart of South America.
The entry to Marco das Três Fronteiras is around R$60 on its own. It's a family-friendly sort of place. I saw a lot of locals just enjoying the evening, listening to the music, having a tereré — the cold herbal tea that people carry in thermoses around here. It felt like a proper Sunday evening ritual. I'm glad I did it. It gave me a new perspective on the city, one that's not just about the natural wonder, but about the human connection across borders.
For dinner, I was craving something simple. I headed back towards the centre and found a place called Empório com Arte. It's a deli and cafe hybrid, the kind of spot that would be at home in a trendy neighbourhood in a big city. I had a salad with grilled chicken and a glass of fresh juice. It was about R$45. It was a gentle end to a day that started with a helicopter and ended with a sunset across three nations. It reminded me that Foz has layers. You have the raw power of nature, the complex machinery of modern hydro-energy, and the unpretentious charm of a town that grew up around a river. It's a lot to take in.
Tomorrow, I'm planning to check the status of the Devil's Throat walkway on the Argentine side. It's been closed for maintenance, but I'll see if it's worth crossing the border again to try. There's also the Itaipu Special Circuit tour, which I skipped initially in favour of the panoramic one. A deeper dive into the dam's history and operations is on my list. And of course, I still need to find my favourite place for a caipirinha. It's a tough job, but someone has to do it. From Foz do Iguaçu, this is Rafael, saying until tomorrow. Valeu.
Oh, and one more thing about the helicopter. It costs about R$350 for a short ride over the falls. It's not cheap, but if you can stretch to it, do it. The walkways are essential, but they only show you a fraction. From the air, you finally understand the scale. You see the river pouring off the edge of the world, and you get this strange sense of saudade — a longing for a place you're still standing in. It's powerful. Right, that's it for today. Tchau.