PINK DOLPHINS, JAGUARS & TERERE
- rouletout608
- 3 days ago
- 10 min read
Back from Europe we used our last remaining days in Bolivia to visit the jungle. More precisely the area around Trinidad. Having installed the spare parts and enhancements we brought from Europe we started our journey north from Santa Cruz. A strike was announced which resulted in even longer queues than normal at the petrol stations. Luckily we were still pretty full and so we didn’t bother. The road led us through cattle herds and soya plantations, many of them run by Menonites, towards the heat of the jungle. It was almost 40 degrees when we hit a road block in a small village - some land dispute it seemed - and the only option was to wait. The day passed and to our surprise the block was removed for a few hours late at night for the trucks to pass through, so did we, to stop in a forest for the rest of the night shortly thereafter.
Trinidad is not much of a town but it is a good starting point to explore the jungle along the many water ways and to maybe get a glimpse on the famous pink river dolphins. We organised a private tour (anyways, we didn’t see any other tourists) on the Rio Ibare down to the Rio Mamore, saw loads of birds and the occasional pink dolphin. Honestly, you don’t see much of them for long in the muddy waters but it was still fun trying to spot them. We cooled down in the river, but only after the guides confirmed that the piranhas here are not hungry, hiked to a few lagoons (where you shouldn’t enter the water as the piranhas there are hungry and it is also full of anacondas) and made it back to Trinidad late.
The heat made staying unbearable so we decided to continue. Our next goal was the Pantanal, the unique and world’s largest wetland in the corner of Brazil neighbouring Bolivia and Paraguay. We decided to follow the lesser travelled road 10 that follows the border between Bolivia and Brazil for about 300km. This dirt road is only used by few trucks, mostly to transport cattle, and only connects a few small villages through this empty border area. Locals made it clear to us, that we should spent the nights within village boundaries as the nights - as to be expected - belong to smugglers of all sorts of things. It took a while to find immigration and customs on the Bolivian side of the border just to learn that there is no immigration on the Brazilian side. We were told to ask for an entry stamp at the Polícia Federal in Cáceres, a 100km down the road, but only after having spent the night between endless cattle pastures.
For the first time in years we were again in a country where we didn’t speak the local language which made for quite some funny experiences. Our first destination was Porto Jofre, a tiny village on the Cuiabá river and a famous spot to start Jaguar safaris. The Transpantaneira, 150km of dirt road crossing more than 100 wooden bridges, is one of the few roads that brings you into the Pantanal from the north. Most bridges are in quite good shape but some make you question the decision to drive over them, especially as the waters below them are full of caimans, sometimes hundreds laying on the shore in the sun and watching you pass. One of the last and longer bridges looked especially weak and only on the way back we saw the fallen over 5 ton limit sign - Rouletout made it anyways.
Porto Jofre is just a few houses and lodges in the jungle. We took up camp next to the river and organised a boat safari for the next day. The challenge in the heat were the dogs. They wanted to swim in the river, with all the caimans not the best idea and of course we had to leave and tie them outside while we were gone. Jaguars normally don’t approach civilisation but still, we were a bit anxious. The boat safari was really amazing, we saw four jaguars, followed two of them for quite a long time and saw plenty of other wildlife and birds. Anacondas, capybaras, otters, caimans and countless birds. The heat was still pretty intense so we were looking forward to our boat trip down the river São Lourenço and the river Paraguay to Corumbá in the southern Pantanal that we had organised for our truck on a cattle carrier. We were told to be at the river at 6 in the morning to load the truck, unfortunately there was no boat. It was already gone, something more important than a couple of tourists came up… For us this meant a 1500km detour through Mato Grosso and Mato Grosso do Sul, luckily mostly on good roads with countless trucks carrying the world’s soya beans that are grown here everywhere in the region. Due to the remoteness most trucks and houses here are equipped with Starlink providing connectivity in the middle of nowhere.
To escape the heat we spent the nights near small waterfalls and got a first taste of the Brazilian way to spend the weekend, with loud music, barbecue and lots of beer but always friendly and welcoming.
The most memorable stop in the southern Pantanal was at Refúgio Canaã, a remote camp full of colorful macaws and other creatures, beautifully situated on a cool river and ideal for recovering from the long days of driving.
Our final stop took us to Bonito, a small town famous for its crystal-clear, cold rivers fed by underground springs. Guided tours allow you to explore the underwater world while snorkeling—a practice known as floating, where you drift downstream past the fish with minimal movement. A welcome respite from the Pantanal heat.
From Bonito, our next destination was Paraguay where Rouletout should receive a lot of love and a complete renovation of its interior. For ten years, Rouletout had been our home on wheels, carrying us, our dogs, and all our worldly belongings through countless journeys. She deserved a proper spa day, or as it turned out, spa weeks or months…
Crossing into Paraguay was quite an experience. We chose the northern border in Ponta Porã but it is hard to realise what the border is. The twin towns of Ponta Porã (BR) and Pedro Juan Caballero (PY) are one town. The actual border runs along one of the main streets with Paraguay on the right and Brazil on the left double lane of the road lined with countless shops of all sorts of things, mostly electronics, but also tires and everything else you can imagine. Brazilians come here from far to do their shopping and carry their new items across this uncontrolled border. All shops in Paraguay accept Brazilian Reals and welcome you in Portuguese. As a foreigner (by just showing your passport) you shop directly toll and tax free making the trade with Brazil one of the major income sources for Paraguay (as you will read further down, the twin cities of Ciudad del Este (PY) and Foz do Iguaçu (BR) on the Eastern border are very similar but just at much bigger scale).
Well it took a while to find the Polícia Federal to get our exit stamp and even longer to find the customs office to cancel our temporary import (TECAT) on the Brazilian side just to continue the search on the Paraguayan side. At least customs and immigration were in the same building.
Once the paperwork and shopping was done we continued to a small National Park called Cerro Corá which was also the location of the last battle of the Guerra de la Triple Alianza in 1870, a war that almost completely decimated the population of Paraguay and is still well engraved in the memories of many Paraguayans.
We used the last days in the jungle to organise a place to stash our stuff, our furry companions, and ourselves while Rouletout got her makeover near the capital Asunción. We figured it would be best to be near a big city to find the items and support we would need. We found a charming (but not so well maintained) house on the shores of Lago Ypacaraí, thinking we’d only stay two months or so. Spoiler alert: we were wrong.
Luckily our landlord was well connected and helped us organising the most important workers, mainly a reliable and good carpenter which we found in Ramón. However, Asunción and life in Paraguay was kind of a puzzle. Businesses were shuttered, doctors’ offices closed, and locals seemed to be on an extended siesta. Why? The answer hit us like a wall of heat: the city was either a scorching furnace or drenched in relentless rain. The weather didn’t just slow us down—it stalled Rouletout’s repairs.
Workers would promise to show up “mañana” (tomorrow), but in Paraguay, “mañana” could stretch into a week. Excuses piled up: “My car won’t start,” they’d say, and we started to wonder if it was just a polite way to say “mañana.” The heat was so brutal that even Rouletout refused to start one day, as if she, too, was protesting the swelter. We saw cars overheating and even catching fire on the streets—apparently just another day in Asunción.
Despite that, we made progress. All old furniture and installations were removed, walls polished and painted, a new window installed and very slowly the new furniture arrived.
But life in Paraguay wasn’t all sweat and stalled engines. We discovered a hidden gem: a sweet climbing spot like 45 minutes from us. The routes were few and short but exhilarating, perfect for beating the heat if you got there early. We’d rise at 5 a.m., hit the crag by 5:40, and finish by nine before the rocks turned into sizzling skillets. On our way, we’d see locals jogging or walking, all clutching leather thermos cans filled with tereré, Paraguay’s beloved cold herbal drink. Literally everyone has such a thermos - often with their name engraved on it. Every worker, bus driver, police man and even doctors in their offices and once empty, they are refilled with water and ice.
Curious, Ulf once asked a man to sell him some tereré, only to be met with an offended glare. “This is my tereré,” the man snapped. “Go get your own!” We learned quickly: in Paraguay, tereré is sacred.
In the mornings every street corner has a tereré lady, their tables brimming with lemongrass, ginger, mint, and other roots and herbs, each with a purpose. Got a headache? High cholesterol? A cranky stomach? She’d crush the herbs, mix them with ice, and whip up a custom tereré to fix you right up. Just pour it on your herba-mate and no hospitals are needed—just a tereré stand. At first we didn’t have our own thermos, so we’d watch in awe as they worked their magic, wishing we’d come prepared.
A visit by Corina & Rapha (with whom we already met in Colombia, Ecuador, Peru and Bolivia) brought some welcome change to our daily routine. Especially as on a really rainy day Rapha sank his camper into the mud in front of our house. Luckily a rare delivery truck passed and pulled him out.
Amid the heat and tereré culture, we stumbled upon an older man selling banana bread next to a tereré stand. He was German, he said, but his family had settled here a few generations ago, like many Germans and other Europeans who’ve made Paraguay their new home.
Asunción is a cultural kaleidoscope, with German restaurants serving bratwurst and Schnitzel and quaint cafés dishing out Paraguayan specialties. One standout was “Paraguayan soup,” which, surprise, wasn’t soup at all but a savoury cornbread-like cake. We ordered a small plate, loved it, and soon the locals were teaching us the art of eating it, their warmth as infectious as the food was delicious.
Work progressed slowly as the weather got drier and we had one or the other serious discussion with our carpenter. Our spirits lifted when our nephew, Seppi, arrived for New Year’s. The heat made exploring a challenge, but Seppi dove into the culture, mastering tereré like a pro. Each morning, he’d grab a thermos and the motorbike to visit a tereré lady and experiment with herbs, becoming a tereré enthusiast in record time.
We rented a car to visit the world’s second largest hydroelectric power plant in Itaipu and continued on to Foz do Iguaçu to visit the famous waterfalls. Back at Rouletout we used Seppi’s help to install new and more solar panels on Rouletout, work that due to the heat on the roof had to start really early in the morning. To compensate for the early rises we explored the restaurants in Asuncion and nearby San Bernardino and filled (and emptied) the fridge with countless cans of Munich Ultra.
Riding our motorcycle through Asunción’s chaotic traffic was another form of entertainment. Every time we needed something for the truck one of us took up the challenge to drive to nearby Luque or to downtown Asunción, weaving through traffic, dodging cars, and racing against the sunrise to avoid the heat - a real life video game. The police was another challenge. They’d stop you for anything—a broken indicator, a made-up rule—and hint at a bribe, especially in Luque. We were quite good at avoiding paying anything but it could become pretty annoying and sometimes time-consuming. One time, when Rouletout was back on the road, and we had to stop just just two kilometres from our house, the police threatened a ticket because allegedly trucks were not allowed on this road even as massive trucks rumbled by without issue. These shakedowns felt oddly personal and for us and were pretty unique to Paraguay.
Despite these minor frustrations, we found joy in small rituals. Berna’s favourite: hitting up a corner shop for chipa, Paraguay’s addictive cheesy bread. After the morning motorcycle game, she’d grab chipa and tereré, savouring the simple pleasures.
Progress on Rouletout was slow but we could see the light at the end of the tunnel. That’s when we met a German kitesurfer who’d made Paraguay his home. He invited us to the Yacht Club Ypacarai to kitesurf on the lake—a surprising twist, given rumours of its pollution. We took him up on it, gliding across the surprisingly nice water, adding kitesurfing to Asunción’s unexpected list of adventures, alongside climbing.
As the time on our visa almost ran out Rouletout received its final touches and was ready to go. Paraguay was small but mighty, a place of heat, heart, and tereré. As we headed East in direction of Brazil we realised we’d fallen for this quirky, challenging, and utterly unique corner of the world.
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