Chapter 30:  Iguaçu/Iguazú Falls.

Saturday, September 18

It was a night to remember or make that two nights!  Really though, after all the journeying and sticking to schedules, this is what it was all about.  I could suddenly revert to being 19 years old again, a bit like my spirit before Hillsborough, before all the niggling self-doubts had set in.  It was a happy go lucky, throw caution to the wind mood that came back to me occasionally.  No one, but no one, can take that smile away from you.  This was my state of mind as I arrived back in plenty of time for breakfast.  A blissful sense of being caressed my soul.  I never overspilled or encroached on others in my happier moments.  It was never a competition or a race to feel like this.  It was just a sweet equilibrium to still be here.  The receptionists joined me as I gently played some guitar by the bar.  They could sense my happy and content nature.  I later collected my belongings, bade farewell to the hostel hosts and set off for the bus terminal. 

I’d enjoyed a tremendously life affirming time in Rio de Janeiro.  I felt a great buzz despite the cloudy morning skies and persistent drizzle.  The next bus for Foz do Iguaçu was leaving at 11.15am.  I kept nodding off beside a table in the cafe bar.  Still, I managed to perk myself up and be alert enough to board the bus.  I found my neck cushion at the bottom of my backpack.  This next journey would take a mere 22 hours.  It meant a chance to catch up on rest.  There were lots of stops along the way.  As I drifted in and out of sleep, I missed many of them.  The two stops in Sao Paulo grabbed my attention though.  The massive urban sprawl and skyscrapers were such a spectacle. 

Sunday, September 19

I staggered like a zombie around the Foz do Iguaçu terminal.  Luckily, there was an easy to find connection to the Urban Bus Terminal.  I caught the next bus into the centre, concentrating hard for the correct stop as we sped through the blocks.  I’d reserved a bed at Albergue Paudimar Centro and arrived there at midday.  The receptionist called Benjamin sorted out my check-in.  He reckoned I had plenty of time to check the Brazilian side of the falls in Parque Nacional do Iguaçu. 

Despite an overwhelming sense of tiredness, I caught a Number 120 bus on Avenida Jorge Schimmelpfeng.  At the park’s entrance I hopped onto a tour guide bus.  There was a multilingual voice-over describing the lush surroundings.  A nice afternoon in such a stunning location certainly beat staying in bed.  I perked up.  It felt a lot fresher than the temperatures I’d become used to.  The sun was still shining as well.  Its rays on the cascading waterfalls created rainbow colours.  The Iguaçu Falls were simply incredible.  There were tremendous views from the descending balconies and the top of a huge elevator.  I stayed around the park for about three hours, then returned to Foz on a packed-out bus. 

Back in the hostel I met Marcel, a chemical engineer from Rio.  He was staying in the same dormitory.  All the Brazilians I met were so wonderfully friendly.  After buying some snacks in a nearby supermarket I spoke with Benjamin again.  He sorted out my trip to Puerto Iguazú across the border in Argentina plus a Crucero Del Norte bus ticket to Buenos Aires for 275 Pesos.  I still felt quite awake.  Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens was my latest read.  I settled into the first few chapters, relaxed and drank a couple of beers on the hostel patio before going to bed.

Monday, September 20

Four German teachers joined me for breakfast.  We enjoyed an interesting and jovial chat.  They, and a lad from Milan, were also going on the day trip over the border to Iguazu Falls.  Formalities were quickly dealt with at the crossing into Argentina.  We then arrived at the Falls Park entrance.  Our guide indicated where we should meet at the end of our visit.  He also showed us the preferred routes to walk around Iguazú National Park and Jungle.  We were then left to our own devices. 

The park was much larger than its Brazilian opposite.  Crowds were already building up when I reached the Central Station rail track.  I crossed over to the left onto the Green Trail and made my way along the Upper Circuit path to view several parts from the Rossetti to the Miguel Falls.  They cascaded into the Lower Iguazú River.  I found the Jungle map easier to follow than the official park map.  The lower circuit afforded wider views looking up at the falls.  I hopped on to one of the regular boats across to San Martin Island, climbed some steep steps and took a clockwise route around and reached the impressive matador platform looking right onto the Escondido Falls.  The sound of the waterfall was incredible.  It was like nature expressing itself at high volume.

There were boat trips going beneath the Devil’s Throat Falls, but they cost an extra 100 Pesos, and all for a complete soaking!  The experience would have been something else though.  I watched the passengers embarking and putting on helmets, waterproofs, and life jackets.  I was happy to take more pictures and sample the equal splendour of other parts.  There was also a more sedate side to the park.  After walking through the grounds of the Cataracts Old Hotel, adjacent to the newer Sheraton Hotel, I took a half an hour break for lunch.  There were lots of wild animals roaming about.  The coatis (racoons) were especially keen to share some of my food. 

From Cataracts Station I followed the train line for the one mile up to Devil’s Throat Station.  I stopped to chat with a young Argentine couple along the way.  They were descending from the Devil’s Throat Circuit and told me I had a lot to look forward to.  I was back in the country where I started in February and was now able to converse confidently in Spanish!  It felt so good.  My confidence was soaring.  The milky skies obscured the sun, but they reminded me to put on plenty of lotion.  Drastic ozone depletion over the southern hemisphere makes it a necessity. 

I continued up to the station.  There were bright and colourful butterflies fluttering all around.  From the station there was a one-kilometre walk along a narrow bridge over the expanse of the upper river.  The approaching roar was just something else.  Argentina made sure it matched the Brazilian viewpoints by building a long bridge pier.  They could never be outdone by anyone, and a large national flag proudly fluttered in the moist air.  The viewing platform stood precariously overlooking the spectacular Devil’s Throat.  There were amazing sights of the Union, Mitre, and Belgian Falls.  Lots of tourists, especially the Japanese, jostled for the limited spaces by the flimsy wooden railings.  A nice couple asked me to take their picture.  Then the lady gladly reciprocated. 

I hopped on to the train and hopped off at Cataracts to walk the rest of the Green Trail back towards the entrance.  I wasn’t sure if the guide had said 4.30 or 5pm so I arrived in good time.  There were dozens of similar looking buses and minibuses coming and going.  The Germans reappeared.  We compared our photographs as we waited for the Milanese guy.  The bus arrived but there was still no sign of him.  The driver wanted to leave.  It was about 5.30pm.  He insisted that I needed to be in Puerto Iguazú in good time for my 7pm Buenos Aires-bound bus.  There was also heavy traffic to contend with.  The Germans all agreed and said we must leave, at once!  I liked them.  They were really friendly and good-humoured.  Meeting such bright characters really enhanced my travels. 

We reached the bus terminal in plenty of time.  The Germans wished me a safe journey.  They frantically waved to me as I darted across the road.  There were plenty of European travellers milling about.  The 20-hour bus journey down to Buenos Aires started soon after seven.  I settled into my space near the back and watched the distressingly true story of American journalist Daniel Pearl’s abduction and killing in Pakistan in the film A Mighty Heart.  Later in the evening the bus assistant dished out a considerable package of food.  There was so much chewy pork though.  I had to leave most of it in case it gave me indigestion!  In Posadas we were all woken up and told to change bus.  We soon resumed the journey on the next one where the assistant kindly gave me a blanket and pillow.  They guaranteed a restful and relaxing return to Buenos Aires.