Date of Entry:May 10th 2016
Date of Writing: August 10th 2016
Our night bus from Florianapolis to Foz do Iguacu goes very smoothly and we both actually manage to get a reasonable amount of rest meaning that when we pull in to the bus station around 7 in the morning we’re feeling up to making the most of the day and heading back to one of my favourite places in this entire world. We’ll be spending two nights on the Argentinean side of the border so we decide its worth the price considering the extra time at the falls it will allow us and hop in a cab to cross the border.
The border goes smoothly enough you just need to make sure your driver will stop and wait for you at the Brazilean exit point as there is no requirement to stop but I prefer to do everything legally and soon enough we’re pulling up to the hostel where I spent most of December 2015, Hostel Park Iguazu (100 pesos for a 4 person dorm 9 CAD). There we find a warm welcome and my credit card (compromised the new one sent here by my dearest father) waiting for me. Randomly the new guy working at the reception speaks good german leaving me with just my few words, but luckily I know the important ones, like handschuh and arschgeiger.
Soon enough we’ve got our bags in the room and after a quick repack of our daybags we’re headed out again, a 5 minute walk to the bus station later and we’ve got our tickets, though the bus which runs every half hour and costs 100 ARS roundtrip is not there yet so we head to a grocery store and buy some cheap lunch food, since we’ll obviously be spending all days at the marvel that is Iguazu falls.
Soon enough though we’re on the bus which always seems to take longer than the 35-40 minutes it actually takes, that’s probably just my childlike excitement knowing I’m about to see very dear friend I’ve been separated from for more than 4 months. Eventually though we pull up to the entrance and I’m hurt to see the price has increased from 260 ARS to 320 (30 CAD). Great. We don’t have enough Argentinean cash since the ATM wouldn’t work, and of course the ATM at the falls themselves won’t work for either of our cards. (It usually doesn’t and cash is the only way to pay the entrance).
Luckily with some well employed Spanish we manage to convince our ticket officer to take some Brazilian Reals into his pocket and give us back enough pesos to cover the new higher fee. It’s amazing what patience and a genuine smile can accomplish. That’s perhaps the second biggest lesson that travel has taught me, the biggest and by far most important being that the vast majority of people are absolutely awesome and will help you any way they can if you give them the chance.
Either way once inside we quickly head along the green trail cutting out a very needless and longer train journey and arriving at estacion cataratas ahead of everyone we entered with. From there it’s a tough decision but I choose to show Lydia the falls exactly how I saw them, taking her along the lower trail first as she marvels at the cute coatis all around us on the trails. It’s fascinating to see because the newborns of the Christmas season are now teenagers playful and much bigger than they will and again I feel the warm sensation of returning home, because honestly no matter how far I roam in this amazing world Iguazu will always be a home for me.
Eventually we make it far enough long the trails for our first glimpses of the rivers and a few amazing side falls. I’m amazed as even though it’s far from dry, there seems to be less than half the water flowing compared to my last visit at the end of December, which is hard for me to reconcile. But regardless the falls are still utterly amazing, and less water does mean one good thing, Isla San Martin will be open, allowing me a brand now set of trails to provide different and very impressive viewpoints of the falls.
Of course before we can take the ferry to the islands located half way along the lower trail we come to Lydia’s first true glimpses of the majesty of Iguazu falls, a place unlike any other I’ve been. (I’m hoping this November Victoria falls might somehow compare). Lydia is suitably impressed, the falls making their impression even considering I’ve been building them up constantly for the last two weeks or so of knowing each other. We linger for a while looking past a few palm trees at the white pillars cascading over the huge horseshoe of cliffs draped in lush greenery. Happiness is building up inside me and I feel like a pot about to boil over so it’s good when we start moving again past a few more viewpoints and down onto the trail which leads to the free ferry to Isla San Martin.
We head down the rocky cliffs towards the riverbank stopping for lots of pictures and me marveling too long at new angles of the incredible falls. I’m looking at the reduced water supply and wondering just what it might allow swimming wise if not for the strict rules to stay on the boardwalks and the endless supply of children watching. It’s surprisingly not that busy though compared to when I was first here, and that is a very pleasant surprise.
We end up getting on the second ferry to leave and after a quick and simple crossing I’m bounding off the boat on to an island I’ve been wanting to get to since I first arrived at iguazu in the beginning of December 2015. Now I’m here and Lydia chat and enjoy the beach for a while before heading up onto the trails which hold something rare for me by this point, a mystery at Iguazu.
The single loop trail leads us through some thick forest to beautiful views of the falls on the far side of the island which until now I’ve only seen from a distance on the Brazilian side of the falls and I’m just bursting with excitement, probably too much considering I’m supposed to be Lydia’s guide,, but I don’t think I’m capable of a truly professional attitude beside Iguazu and luckily Lydia, awesome person that she is, seems to appreciate it.
Eventually the trail leads us out to the boardwalks I’ve seen soaked and flooded all through December to a truly stunning vantage point of one of the epicenters of the falls not named the devils throat. It’s beyond beautiful and here despite the reduced water levels were getting pretty soaked form the cool dense clouds of mist rebounding up 80-10 meters from the splash of the cascades crashing into the river bed. It’s beyond beautiful and I’m enjoying the moment while simultaneously remembering all the amazing times I’ve had at Iguazu with so many amazing people.
Eventually we head back from the soaked edge and back through the forest to the beach where sadly they strictly do not allow swimming. There we meet a couple on a quick vacation who ask us to make a video for their engaged friends, showing us pictures of four people and asking us who is marrying who, why, and what we wish them for their lives together. It’s lots of fun. We take advantage of one last photoshoot on this island and are eventually joined by some Russian orthodox church members who seem out of place clothed all in thick black in the oppressive heat of the jungle, but it’s great to see people from every walk of life admiring the spectacle that is iguazu falls.
The next ferry back to the main trails arrive and we hop on, watching the boat man feed some very big fish before climbing up on the other side to complete our circuit of the lower trail.
Soon enough Lydia and I are at one of my two favourite places on the Argentinean side, out in the spinning and swirling mists, whipped by the wind into a frenzied cadence, both of us getting soaked as we try to protect our cameras and get closer and closer to the incredible force of the falling water. I swear I could spend a lifetime out on that catwalk. A thousand lifetimes. Iguazu is paradise.
Eventually we continue along the ending section of the lower trail, which has been repaired and is a complete circuit again, passing by salto chico, and dos hermanas, which with the reduced water supply are much less impressive than I visited. Having completed the lower trail we decide to hop on the train and see my other favourite place, the devils throat.
The train ride is dull since the sun is blanketed behind a thick layer of clouds, which is very unfortunate for all the photos from today. As we ride and chat I find myself just hoping Lydia will get to see Iguazu with blue sly, though I’m far from altruistic as I want nothing more to see it that way again myself.
Getting off the train having taken a seat on the last car to allow for an easy exit just how empty the park is compared to December hits me as there’s no bottleneck behind us, just a solid group of tourists following us out onto the boardwalk. I walk fast, I don’t think I know another way to walk on this particular boardwalk, and I do my best to be patient as Lydia takes some pictures of the admittedly beautiful scenery around us some distance back from the top of the falls. She’s not stupid, she just has no idea what’s waiting for her at the end of the boardwalk. We even see some turtles along the way which is a pleasant bonus.
Finally we reach the end of the boardwalk and while there is less water, I’m thrilled to find that nothing at the Devil’s throat has changed. It’s still a place of perfection on this earth, water plummeting down cliffs in heaps all around us, the thunderous sound surrounding our senses even as our eyes try to take in the impossible beauty of this absurd place. If anyone ever wants to ask for my hand in marriage, do it here and I’d have a hard time saying no even If I hate you. This place is for my home, and one day I intend to camp here for the night. I have some ideas as to how, though it is certainly far from legal.
We walk around the boardwalk both giddy with excitement, snapping pictures whenever the winds shift clearing us from the swirling mists and I eventually stop with photos just standing and losing myself in the falls, in the chaotic serenity they somehow embody. A perfect place and another one where I would happily spend a lifetime, especially with an awesome friend like Lydia beside me.
Eventually though it’s time to go. We have to if we want to have time to walk the upper trail and still make it back to the exit before the park closes. Oh well.
Reluctantly I head back along the boardwalk with Lydia both bouncing up and down but incredibly calm inside, something like the essence of a waterfall. The sun isn’t out but the clouds are thinner and the walk passes nicely us talking away. It’s nice to know I have a friend for life in Lydia, and a place to stay deep in the german woods too :).
Back at estacion Cataratas we quickly head down to the upper trail, which offers some of the best vantage points for pictures of Iguazu, though of the three If I had to choose one to skip (which I never ever will need to and nor should you because Iguazu is worth your time. 3 days. 2 at an absolute minimum.) it would be this one.
We snap lots of photos and get some more of the two of us while I fight the temptation to climb over the railings and try to wade my way to the edge of the falls. Especially with the water so much lower it’s a hard fight to when, even if I know Lydia would murder me if I so much as tried it. Maybe one day, but definitely not with impressionable children watching, and when I still hope to return to the park so many times in the future.
Eventually we reach the last lookout balcony and decide to head back the way we’ve come along the edge of the falls rather than follow the loop which keeps you back out of view of the falls. Pointless and silly especially since the park is far from crowded so the one way traffic rule is pretty needless.
From here it’s a straight shot back to the park exit and up onto the waiting rio Uruguay bus to bring us back to town. Our picnic was small and we’re both feeling ravenous so we both resolve to go to my favourite fancy restaurant in Puerto Iguazu for steaks, since we are each on our last two forseeable days in Argentina.
But before we go to dinner, we’re about to gain a third musketeer, and it’s one who will be familiar to those who follow this blog closely, and annoyingly it’s another german. Aren’t they just the worst. David who I met traveling with Henrique in Ushuaia just before heading to Antarctica is waiting for us at the hostel. He’s at the end of his trip too, and very excited to see the falls.
Through some stroke of luck he’s in our dorm already and since he just has a few days left in south America he’s up to join us for a nice dinner so soon the three of us are heading out to Aqva steakhouse, me of course speaking in my flawless german. The dinner is beyond delicious and everything that I remembered, Lydia and I splitting chicken Caesar before our main course of steaks, though surprisingly it’s only the third best restaurant meal I’ll eat with Lydia. Stay tuned
