James Tozer writes: "The day began (very prematurely) as the previous one had finished: on the long and winding road to Buenos Aires, deep in the bowels of the "Marcelo-mobile". Weary heads lolled against each other, with some gaining valuable rest by leaning on the windows. Some looked the worse for wear after a night out in Rosario; some had barely made the bus, sleepwalking from their rooms out of the Imperio's front door. The journey passed by in a blurry haze, with only the odd silhouette stumbling down the aisle or the blast of passing car horn for distraction.

 

We arrived at Buenos Aires' now familiar airport at 7am, with the check-in queue fast becoming a mass of bodies sleeping on suitcases. Arriving at the gate 2 hours later, we had plenty of time to kill, with most gratefully accepting the opportunity to get some more shut-eye. One poor wretch - who certainly appeared to be suffering from the after-effects of "Rosario-gate" - was the victim of an elaborate, passport-related prank by Russell and Hartley-Russell. With all international documentation recovered, we boarded the LAN flight to Iguazu. 

 

After a somewhat turbulent flight - in which much was done by various members of the squad to assuage James Phillpot's fears - we arrived to the happy news that the hotel was yet to ready our rooms. One local pizza meal later, and we were back at the Complejo Americano, this time to unpack and settle in. Though a few individuals ventured into town to partake in local amusements - with Nick Russell receiving a fine return on a sound investment - a large portion of the squad remained in our new base, resting up. Dinner was served in the hotel's dining area - a light pasta dish - before a comparatively early night in anticipation of a 7am start for the falls. With the mosquitoes circling, all windows were kept firmly shut."

 

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