Iguazu falls was one of my must see attractions in South America. If this is the first time you’ve heard of the falls, they’re located on the Northeast border of Argentina and Brazil and they are impressive in scale. Words don’t really describe the falls so here are some photos:
And here is a cheeky wee video:
|The 'trails': sadness in my heart.|
The morning I arrived in Iguazu I managed to just beat a tropical storm into the hostel. Despite the weather I headed straight to the Brazilian side of the falls. This side offers a better overview of the falls but there isn’t much there (I was done in a couple of hours). Also, it costs a hefty stack of pesos for what you get. Sadly, the Brazilian idea of national park management and mine don’t quite match up – their version has sealed roads and concrete paths.
I was up early the next morning to go to the Argentinian side. It was still overcast but at least the deluge had stopped. While waiting for the bus I saw Townie come in but we didn’t meet up then. I did the top loop and the lower loop in the morning then headed over to the platform above the devils throat. It was there I ran into Townie, who had started at ‘Devil’s deepthroat’ as he called it. We agreed that if he came back to Devil’s I would redo the other two loops, so I effectively got to see the falls twice. Definitely better with company. It was disappointing to not get to San Martin Island, in the middle of the falls, but apparently the river was too high and the boat wasn’t going.
|Under a cheeky little fall.|
Lastly we did the Sendero Macuco trail, a 3.5km each way, mostly flat ‘hike’ into the bush. Compared to the other falls the one at the end of the trail wasn’t very impressive but it was very peaceful compared to the high volume (of people) main loops. We also hit a cheeky miniature bush bash in order to get around under the waterfall, which was a cool but wet experience.
That night we went large with some people from the hostel. The night was epic but had some negative consequences for me, which I’ll get to. We started with beers at the hostel, then went out for dinner. We tried a pizza with some weird stuff on it called heart of palm, which is kind of what it sounds like it would be. It wasn’t bad but probably won’t become a regular menu item for me. The Argentina-Bolivia game was on (it’s the Pamn American cup over here at the moment, a really big deal) and I found out just how little I know about soccer. I didn’t know who Messi or Maradona were before that dinner and even after getting an explanation I keep calling saying Maraloche instead of Maradona. I also accidently cheered for Bolivia at one stage, definitely a shankable offense.
At dinner some old guy had given us some free drinks vouchers at some club so we went for a look. After cashing in we moved to a nearby club which was going much harder, and shenanigans ensued. We were definitely in parts of the club we shouldn’t have been for a while (think deserted downstairs area with no lights), amongst other things. Messy.
Messy indeed for me as the next day I had an important, 24 hour long, get me out of the middle of nowhere bus to catch at the crack of dawn (okay, 9.45am). Despite Townie apparently waking me for it (I have no recollection) I was still unable to drag my sorry carcass into the land of the awake and upright until 10.15. When I did awaken it was full panic. A quick trip to the bus stop (across the road from the hostel, conveniently) confirmed I had missed my very important bus. The next best option was a partial refund and then an overnight bus to Resistencia that night, followed by a day there and then another bus to Salta over the following night. So I cost myself a lot of money, got stuck in Iguazu a day longer than I wanted to be in the throes of an animal hangover, and then had to spend a day in Resistencia. It also added 24 hours to my trip to Salta. So all in all a bad result and I’ve learnt my lesson from this world-class act of muppetry.
That day in Iguazu was excruciatingly long and extensively boring: so boring that I started reading the Lost Symbol. Awful. By 9pm I was pretty pleased to be getting on the bus, something I didn’t expect to ever happen. As usual I had to bribe my bike on and with that I was out of Iguazu for good.