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Published: March 26th 2007
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From Tucuman I headed to Iguazu Falls via Posadas and San Ignacio. The bus from Tucuman to Posadas was a measly 17 hours, yet surprisingly comfortable. As we got close to Posadas I started chatting with an Argentinean woman (random chatting happens a lot here) and she told me that Posadas was not too hot, not too cold, but that Iguazu was pretty bad. "OK, I thought." When I stepped off the bus in Posadas I thought I was going to melt. It was so incredibly hot and humid that there was nothing you could do. I only wanted to stop in Posadas for a few hours to get some lunch, so I made my way to the center of town and feasted on -what else- a nice steak. By the late afternoon I was on a one hour bus ride to the small town of San Ignacio. There isn't much there, but it makes a nice stopover on the way to Iguazu. There are massive Jesuit mission ruins at San Ignacio Mini, and the Uruguayan writer Horacio Quiroga had a house there, which is now a museum. San Ignacio is just dirt roads, but the surrounding green grass eerily
reminded me of Cuba.
After a visit to the ruins and the Quiroga house the next day, it was time to go to the town of Puerto Iguazu, another 4 hours away. I decided to stay at the Hostel Inn, 5km from town, but it turned out to be worth it. It was like a palace, with a full bar, ping pong tables, pool tables and a massive swimming pool. There was partying to be had, and after a nice asado at the hostel the night began. I met a few guys from the UK and we quickly got to talking. Let me say one thing about guys from the UK (or mainly English guys in this case). They're a great bunch of blokes, but I'll be damned if they're not some of the craziest people I've ever met.
Case in point: One English guy, let's call him Jon (have to protect the innocent), had gotten some bad news that day and wanted somebody to have a few drinks with him. Sure, I said. Little did I know he had already been drinking since 10AM. After a drink at the bar, he told me to sit at a
table and wait for him. A minute later he came back with teaspoons and went back to the bar. I was confused. He came back with two shots of vodka, sat down and grinned. "I'm going to show you a little trick," he said. OK, I thought. Next thing I know, he dips his teaspoon in the vodka, holds it up to his nose, and snorts the vodka up his nose. "Now you," he said. "You want me to what?" I started cursing in my head, wondering what I had gotten myself into. After some banter back and forth, I finally gave in and obliged. Let's just say snorting vodka is painful, revolting and just plain stupid, all rolled into one. The stinging is just awful. Then he got up again and came back with straws. No way! I thought. Again I obliged him, but after doing it once I told him there was no chance I was doing anymore. I looked away, probably trying to recover, and when I turned back to the English bloke his shot glass was empty, straw in hand. "Did you just...?" I asked him. "Yup," he replied. This guy was just insane. I had
to figure out what possessed this guy to snort vodka, and when I asked another couple English lads about it, they said they had at least heard of it being done before. No comment.
The next morning it was time to visit the world-famous Iguazu Falls. I went with an English bloke from the hostel to go explore the Argentinean side. The first time you see them is nothing short of jaw-dropping. Not only are they steep, but the falls are about 2km across, extending into Brazil. You might think "Oh, waterfalls, whatever" but no, it's not like this. I went to Niagara Falls several years ago, so it was hard to remember what that was like, but I'm pretty sure that Iguazu Falls has it beat. There are so many amazing views of the falls, and you can walk around the park all day to see new and different things. In the afternoon we took a boat ride on the falls that took us right through one. The sheer force of it was so overwhelming that the only choice was to close your eyes and hope you didn't get sucked over the side of the boat. By the
afternoon the English guy and I added an Ecuadorian and an Irish girl to our group and went to get some lunch. We had no idea what time it was, nor was I worried about, but when we were done we wanted to go to La Garganta del Diablo (The Devil's Throat), only to realize that the last train to that part of the falls had left 10 minutes ago (yes, there are trains that take you around the park, it is that big). The path to The Devil's Throat was closed as well. Everyone in the group, and myself especially, was pissed. The Devil's Throat is supposed to be the most impressive part of the falls. My guidebook even says: "Of all the sights on earth, the Garganta del Diablo must come closest to the experience of sailing off the edge of a flat earth imagined by early European sailors." Totally distraught, we thought we would have to come back tomorrow to visit it. As we walked back towards the entrance of the park, we realized that if we followed the train tracks, we could bypass the path and follow them all the way to the Devil's Throat. Victory!
At first none of us were sure we should do it, we were technically trespassing and going to an area of the park that was closed (the rest of the park didn't close until a couple hours later). We figured we'd go for it, and totally ignored the other tourists heading towards the exit. After a little while, we were sure we were in the clear. There were even a few trucks that passed us, but they never said anything. Yes! After a little over 2km, we had finally made it. It was another kilometer along the catwalk that ended at the Garganta del Diablo. Of course there were dozens and dozens of people leaving, and we were the only ones going towards the falls. When we finally got to the end of the catwalk, there was an angry park ranger standing there, obviously perturbed by our presence. "2 minutes for photos, that's it!" he barked at us. We got to the lookout point and I froze. Now I knew what my guidebook was talking about. The Garganta del Diablo might be the most violent thing I've ever seen. The amount of water coming down the fall at a
tremendous force and pressure has to be seen to be believed. Although a safe distance away, I still thought the force of the water would pull me away and suck me in. It was so awe-inspiring that I seriously regretted not having more time there. The four of us took our photos as fast as we could, and then quickly got shooed away. I am so glad we trespassed to see it, so glad (coincidentally, it was my second time trespassing in a week, after the hiking debacle in Tafi del Valle from my last entry).
The next day I wanted to go see the Brazilian side of the falls, which is supposed to give you a more panoramic view rather than close-up like the Argentinean side. I knew about the Brazilian visa, but little did I know that we Americans were that disliked that we had to pay $120 US for a visa just to enter the country. I don't know about you, but $120 just didn't seem worth it for only a few hours. So it goes. I had planned to leave that day anyway, so in the early afternoon I caught a bus for the 25
hour ride to Cordoba, which turned out to be my favorite city on my entire trip thus far. But that's for my next entry.
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