If you think I would shamelessly cut through a corner of Brazil just to put another flag sticker on my bike... well, you would probably be right.

I have no illusions that exploring Brazil is its own separate adventure. It is a continent onto itself as it is larger than Europe and, unlike the rest of Central and South America, Brazil's principal language is Portuguese. Though they share some words in common, Spanish and Portuguese are very different and therefore Español doesn't get you very far. I will have to dedicate some time to learning the basics of Portuguese before I come back to explore Brazil properly. For now, this is just to get the stamp in my passport.

In planning my route for the day I was not able to find any reliable information about the obscure border crossing I wanted to use. I wasn't sure if it was even operational. This border also had the added complexity of a ferry crossing which I also couldn't find any information about. I just had to be prepared to get turned back in the event I could not cross there.

The ride to the border was on small rural roads which took me through several small agricultural towns. One thing about getting off the beaten path is that locals are much more interested in you. When I stopped for gas I attracted a small crowd of young men who had a lot of questions and took lots of pictures on my bike.

When I arrived at the border it was closed (for lunch) and the gate was locked. I saw some cars waiting in line so I figured there would be a ferry at some point. When a small group of people started to line up, I went over and started inquiring about the immigration office. Here's where the whole Español is not Portuguese thing started to play out as people were trying to explain the procedure to me but we couldn't understand each other. Finally a group of three men called me over. They were from Brazil but spoke a bit of English and they were very helpful.

Being a remote border, the agents didn't really know how to process me. There was a lot of conferring with each other but eventually I got stamped out of Argentina just in time to board the ferry.

I was a bit of a novelty on the brief ferry ride and lots of people came over to look at the bike. When I got off the ferry I was told I needed to go find the National Police office which was a couple miles away. I immediately got confused on the maze of local streets. When pulled to the side of the road, several people that I had met on the ferry stopped to give me directions. I felt like everyone was looking out for me.

The officers at the National Police office were the best. After stamping my passport and processing my import permit (which only took a few minutes) they came out of the building to lovingly fondle the bike and take a couple of selfies with me. That had never happened before at a border crossing. I was liking Brazil so far.

I was a hot and humid three hour ride to Santa Maria from the border. I figured out what happened to that Atlantic Rain Forest. It is now all planted in soybeans and corn as far as the eye can see.