The morning light was doing that thing it does here in August, all soft and grey, even at eight. I was already out the door of the JL Hotel by Bourbon, not because I had some grand plan, but because the hotel coffee was gone and I needed a proper start. My mission today wasn't the falls, it wasn't the dam. It was simpler. I needed to find the best local caipirinha in Foz do Iguaçu, and I figured I'd also wander through a neighbourhood that wasn't just the tourist strip.
My first stop was a little place I'd spotted yesterday, a small counter place near the centre, nothing fancy. I ordered a coffee, a strong one, and watched the city wake up outside the window. The prato feito, that classic set lunch of rice, beans, meat and salad, was already being prepped, and the smell of garlic and onions was starting to fill the air. It costs about R$31 for a full plate with a drink around here, which is a steal, maybe six dollars for a lunch that could fuel you for a day. I wasn't ready for that yet, but I made a mental note to come back.
With the coffee warming my hands, I hopped on a city bus heading towards Jardim América. I just wanted to see where people actually live, you know? The bus fare is about R$5, and it's the best way to get a feel for the place. The houses there are leafy and quiet, with these little gardens and kids playing football in the street, a world away from the Avenida das Cataratas hotel strip. It's a reminder that this city isn't just a basecamp for the falls, it's a home to over 250,000 people.
I got off the bus near a small park and just walked for a while. The air was crisp, that winter dryness that makes everything feel clear and sharp. I saw a group of men playing dominos under a tree, a woman selling chipa from a basket, that delicious Paraguayan cheese bread that's everywhere here. No one was in a hurry. The pace was just... different. I found a park bench and sat for ten minutes, doing absolutely nothing. It felt necessary. In all the chaos of the falls and the helicopters and the border crossings, I think I was missing the quiet pulse of the city itself.
But I couldn't stay idle for long. I had some real, boring errands to run. Getting the CPF was the big one, and it's the key that unlocks everything here, from a SIM card to a bank account. The process at the Receita Federal is actually pretty smooth, but you need to go in prepared. I also wanted to check on my bank situation, so I headed to a Banco do Brasil branch near the centre. It was busy, a line of people every age, from retirees to young students from the UNILA university. The whole city feels like a meeting point, and the bank was a microcosm of it.
The banking here works on Pix, and once you're set up it's how you pay for literally everything, from a R$5 bus ticket to a R$280 dinner for two. It's quick, it's attached to your account, and it's how a cashless society feels when it actually works. I won't bore you with the paperwork, but I will say this, the ATM and the clerk were both patient with my still-terrible Portuguese. If you're doing this, just bring your passport and your CPF card, and be ready for a bit of a wait. It's a rite of passage.
I killed the hunger from all that admin with a proper lunch. I walked into Bendito - Bar e Restaurante on Avenida Brasil, a spot that felt local and lively. I ordered a pirá de Foz, a fish dish the city claims as its own. It was a hearty, comforting plate, flaky fish in a rich, tangy sauce. Sitting there, surrounded by the sounds of lunchtime clatter and conversation, I felt a little less like a tourist. Prices are moderate, with mains around the R$70-90 mark, a good deal when you're not staring at a falls-view menu.
After lunch, it was time for some reconnaissance for my caipirinha quest. I headed back towards the Marco das Três Fronteiras area, near the river in the Jardim Eldorado district. I wanted to check a spot that had a view over the water, hoping the sunset would do some of the heavy lifting. I found a bar right by the confluence, where you can see the Iguazu and Paraná rivers meet. I ordered my first candidate. It was good, strong, but a bit too sweet. I made a note: not the one. This is a tough job, but someone has to do it.
To balance out the sugar, I decided to take a walk through the Refúgio Biológico Bela Vista, which is part of the Itaipu complex. I knew the Itaipu Special Circuit tour was the deep-dive, but I wanted to see the rescue side of things. The refuge is a quiet, forested place that shelters animals that have been rescued from the wild. I'm told they've got everything from toucans to small mammals that were injured or displaced. It was a grounding contrast to the city, a reminder that the fight for the Atlantic Forest is an active one, not just a story you see in a museum.
I walked along the Piracema Canal for a bit, where the water flows quietly through the forest. It's a man-made channel but it's designed to help fish migrate around the dam, and the sound of the water was a welcome change from the traffic. I even spotted a toucan in a tree, its beak a flash of colour against the green. It felt almost clichéd, but it was real. I ducked into the Ecomuseu for a quick hour, but I'd already seen the main exhibits the other day. Still, there's something about the sheer scale of the engineering that manages to impress every time.
By late afternoon, I was back near the centre and my feet were starting to complain. I ducked into Aloa Coffee, a sleek little café near the main square, for an espresso. A proper coffee, strong and short, cost about R$8, maybe a dollar fifty. I sat at the counter and watched the world walk by, the mix of Brazilians, Paraguayans and Argentines blending into one crowd on the pavement. That's the thing about Foz, it doesn't feel like a single nation, it feels like a corridor between three.
I needed a cheap dinner and I remembered the prato feito place from the morning. I found it again, a bustling little joint in the Vila Portes district. I grabbed a seat and ordered the special of the day, rice, beans, a breaded steak, a fried egg on top, a little salad and a glass of fresh juice. All for around R$31, maybe six dollars. It was perfect, filling, and exactly what a working local would be eating on a Tuesday night. I left with a full belly and a happy wallet.
The sun was setting as I made my way back to the JL Hotel by Bourbon. I grabbed a beer from a corner shop, a cheap one, and walked down to the riverfront near the centre. The sky turned a deep orange and purple, and the lights of Ciudad del Este started to twinkle across the water. I thought about the city's DNA, a remote outpost of yerba mate and timber that became a massive frontier hub. There's a history here of building things, of engineering, of moving people and goods.
As I sipped my beer, I realised I hadn't found my perfect caipirinha yet. The search will have to continue. But I found something else today, a sense of the rhythm of this place. The falls are the spectacle, but the city is the soul. It's a working town, a border town, a place with 80 nationalities and a story on every street corner. I headed back to my room, ready for a solid sleep. The falls will still be there tomorrow, but tonight, I'm just happy to be in Foz.
One last thing before I go. For those of you thinking about making this your base for a while, the rent on a one-bedroom flat in the city centre runs about R$1,900 a month, which is around three hundred and fifty dollars. Food and transport are modest, but those entrance fees to the big attractions, the falls and the bird park, they'll hit your wallet, around R$110-115 each. Plan for those, and the city itself is a very affordable place to live. Olá from Foz, and I'll see you on the next one.
The caipirinha hunt is still on. Tomorrow, I might just have to visit a few more bars to do it properly. For the cause. Goodnight from the Triple Frontier.