and the rain kept coming down

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I awoke this morning to flashes of light streaming across my closed eyes and the sounds of rain pelting the roof of the bus. Rattling back in forth in my seat, I slowly opened my eyes. It was 430 am and we were on our way to Puerto Igazu on an 18 hour overnight bus from Bs.As. The bus seemed to be driving quite fast and swerving towards our shoulder every time another vehicle came our way... I hate the driving down here.

I parted the Velcro holding together the suede like red curtains that were my defence from the ominous flashes exploding all around the bus; the lighting was incessant leaving fading hints of green behind my closed eyelids. Purple flashes, silhouettes of solo palm trees and the occasional brick house resonated in my retinas,... this storm was intense to say the least. I glanced at my watch again, 4:45 I needed to get some sleep, although I found the lighting and the driving rain hypnotizing.

I woke again, it had only been an hour later and still the storm would not relent. Lightning continues to flash every minute, while the tropical rain cascaded down my window in sheets, covering the entire pane of glass in a layer of water. I couldn’t help but think of the difficulties facing the driver of this bus and the terrible conditions of this trip. I looked forward to morning and clearer skies.

By 9am, the rain had stopped and the sun had risen enough behind ominous thunder clouds to provide some light on this grey and miserable day. Passing houses made of brick and red earth streets now reduced to little more than slippery breaks between green grass, I was able to see how the people of Misiones province lived in this tropical climate. For hours and what must have been hundreds of kilometres the landscape was covered in plantations of Yerba mate and some sort of Southern pine. These desserts of biodiversity seemed to extend endlessly across the horizon and said much of the local economy of this poor region in Northern Argentina. I had a class in world forests once that explained to me that if carefully chosen and cared for, plantation forestry could provide all the pulp needed for world consumption through intense cultivation of less than 5% of the earth most productive tree growing regions. This monoculture approach to forestry had clearly been adopted in this part of Argentina and I was forced to think about the pros and cons of such a solution. Was it better to reduce the landscape of some pf the poorest regions of the world to a monotonous plantation agriculture to efficiently supply the worlds needs for paper, or was it better to see the virgin temperate rainforests or ancient boreal forests and my home in Canada reduced to nothing in the name if paper? The question left me confused and unsure as to what outcome I would prefer more. We continues driving north through this tropical region, passing endless no-name towns and countless plantations. I was happy to see the welcome sign to Puerto Igazu and the billboards advertising the Igazu falls, the reason for our trip north.

On our way into town, we had passed the local Hostel International and decided that this would be a good place to start looking for accommodations. The clouds overhead seemed to grow darker by the moment and the humidity of this jungle region was increasing by the minute… Rain, and perhaps even the storm that we had encountered 10 hours earlier seemed to be only minutes away. After finding two bunk beds that suited our needs, we emptied our packs and prepared for an afternoon excursion to the National Park and Igazu falls. Rain would not dampen our spirits, that is until when it started to rain harder than I have ever seen before, which is something given that I live in Vancouver. The staff of the hostel, watched in disbelief as we left the dry confines of our room and took to the streets of the town in a torrential downpour that could be described as biblical. Outfitted in Tilley hats and MEC gore-tex, nothing could stop us. That is until after five minutes, we realised that everything in the town stopped, including the buses, when it rained like this and that we would have to wait for a break in the weather to catch a 30 minute bus to the waterfalls. No worries though, a touristy restaurant was open near by and welcomed our foreign dollars on a slow Sunday afternoon. We enjoyed the downpour from behind the glass of the restaurant, over a cold beer, spaghetti and a Spanish omelette. Not a bad way to watch a tropical storm pass-by. After the rain has slowed a bit, we headed for the bus station and Igazu Falls.

Upon our arrival at the entrance to the National Park it was clear that this was a popular destination, even in bad weather and that crowds of people awaited us. Nevertheless, we entered into the park, dressed in full MEC rain proof gear ready to experience the falls in all their glory. The park, and its various sectors are connected via a small Disneylandish train. Having decided that we only had time to visit the Garganta del Diablo (Devils throat) the largest and deepest chasm over which the Rio Igazu flowed, we needed to get to the second and farthest stop from the main station. After arriving at the first station, we waited patiently as crowds of people joined are sparsely populated train, all the while thinking that these crowds were joining us for a visit to the parks main attraction. Thinking that we were then going to continue in the direction of the second station, the train abruptly started heading back towards the direction we had come from. Having to think quickly, and seeing that the train was going slower than I could walk, I asked Laurence do you want to jump off and walk back to the platform? After hoooing and humming, she nodded her head, put the map of the park between her teeth and looked ready to go, enough for me to stand up and leap from this moving Disney train. Having not been able to ‘stick’ the landing, I gracefully did a shoulder roll and popped up unharmed. As the train continued to pick up speed, I waited for Laurence to join me in and jump from the train, ala Danny Devito’s 1980’s thriller “Throw Momma from the train”. I waited, baited breath however Laurence failed to materialize. It turned out that the old lady accompanying us in our carriage, stepped in front of Laurence and forbid her from jumping, or at least that is the story that Laurence is sticking with. Unfazed, I brushed myself off and made my way back to the platform, grabbed a cold Isenbeck beer and waited the 25 minutes for Laurence to join me on the next train. The Indiana Jones move was definitely worth it.


After catching the next train, this time in the proper direction we made our way through secondary jungle forest to the Mouth of the devil. Laurence joined me in passing the first wave of crowds exiting the train and we soon made our way to the cat walks that had been constructed over the shallow edges of the River that flowed into the forest. We found the Garganta del Diablo to be quite spectacular, an enormous gaping hole in which millions of litres of chocolate coloured water fell into, creating volumes of dense mist that covered our faces. We took pictures, posing in front of the waterfalls along with every other tourist, facing the country of Brazil and enjoying the throngs of giant Swallows (birds) zipping in and out of the mist catching insects and feeding their young.

The next day, after a terrible night in the Igazu falls International Hostel (note to travellers, do not stay here!) we awoke early so that we could get the first bus to the Park before it opened. The day greeted us with clear skies and brilliant South American sun. What a great choice we had made! We had decided earlier to make our way to the Lower trail, which afforded us views of the complex of waterfalls as a whole and a chance of being the first visitors of the day to make it to Isla San Martin, located just below the main part of the falls. We followed the lower trail, admiring the sheer number of waterfalls that fell over the embankment separating the upper portions of the river and region from the lower portions. There are literally dozens of individual waterfalls that fan out from the Garganta del Diablo, making for wonderful photo ops and a generally magnificent place to visit. We continued hiking the trails of the lower section until we arrived at the launching point for the small boats that would take us to the isolated island in the middle of this grand park.

The day continued in much the way it had began; filled with amazing views of gorgeous tropical waterfalls and hiking trails that were both challenging and rewarding. We left the park at midday feeling satisfied after a long and rewarding day, between the borders of Paraguay, Argentina and Brazil.

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[kyle lyth]

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