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South America » Argentina » Misiones » Puerto Iguazú
February 3rd 2010
Published: February 25th 2010
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Last time I reported in I had just left a hostel and was on my way to the Terminal de Omnibus (hey, I think it sounds a lot better than plain old bus station) so I could board my bus and make a 16 hour journey north to Iguazu falls.

For those who have been wondering if this is really a true version of events; after all, so far I haven't gotten ridiculously drunk and ended up: on a pub crawl with the local underbelly mob (a la Galway); in hospital (a la waterpolo presentation nights); or in a strip club (a la a certain grandmother's wake), all I can say is that I'm working on it...

If you are like me, you consider yousrelf reasonably well clued about the world and its sites. It turns out that, when it comes to South America, I was a lot less knowedgeable than I imagined. Prior to landing in Buenos Aires I could put the countries in the right places on the map, identify where the Andes and Amazon lay and roughly gesticulate where the other features were. Angel Falls was important, but it was in Venezuela so I wasn't going
The crowd at the Terminal de OmnibusThe crowd at the Terminal de OmnibusThe crowd at the Terminal de Omnibus

Yes, this was the well organised way that you ensured your luggage was loaded n your bus.
to be visiting. However, when I realised that I had a week between finishing Spanish Week and getting to Ushuaia, I discovered that I didn't really know what there was to do in Argentina. So, having asked around and checked some prices, (and of course consulted the 3kg doorstop that is my Lonely Planet) I decided it was time to head north to Iguazu, right on the border with Paraguay and Brazil, followed by a trip to Mendoza, almost on the border with Chile.

Why Iguazu? Well, as I discovered, it has a pretty amazing set of waterfalls. The Foz (on the Brasiliano side) or the Cataractas (on the Argentine side) are pushed as bigger and better than Niagara. Not having seen Niagara I'll have to nod and smile at that one.

Mind you, every time I asked about how they compared to Victoria Falls I was greeted with blank looks. I'm going to put that down to my abysmal Spanish because surely everyone, no matter how parochial, has at least heard of the Smoke that Thunders? I haver since met a South African who thinks Iguazu is a better spectacle than Victoria Falls.

As for Mendoza,
Luxury Coaches, Argentine StyleLuxury Coaches, Argentine StyleLuxury Coaches, Argentine Style

Fully reclining beds that convert to beds, with individual tv sets and earphones.
well, it offered rafting, mountain biking, parasailing, a trip up to 4000m in the Andes and wine! It seemed like a good idea to go hang out at altitude and taste a few different varietals.
Plus no humidity, even though the temperature was close to 40C.

So, I arrived at the Bus Terminal. As I was getting dropped off by the cab-driver some bell-boy wannabe promptly grabbed my pack from the back seat of the cab and pulled it out for me. Then wanted to be paid for moving my bag all of 2m! Now, I'm not trying to take a holier than thou position, but paying someone to move my bag from the back seat of a taxi to the adjacent pavement did go against the grain, especially when at first it seemed like this guy, wihtout anything resembling a uniform, or even a cap, was trying to snatch it. If he had offered to take it into the terminal than we might have been in agreement, but he just wanted money for unloading it.

This became a slight problem when all I had was $10 peso notes. I wasn't about to pay him half of what
No, not Victoria FallsNo, not Victoria FallsNo, not Victoria Falls

But the smoke was still very cool.
I'd paid the taxi driver... cue a little bit of a stand off that got broken when I picked up my bag, thanked him, and walked off... ignoring the rather large and open palm.

That really should have clued me in to the bus-station economy. Over the next week I was to become adept at not letting people unload my bag from my taxi/local bus and making sure I had plenty of small change to tip the baggage handlers on the coach. Now, this is possibly a case of a double standard, but I found I could justify tipping the baggage handlers who were loading and unloading my pack from the coach. I had breakables in my pack (including a camera and some very expensive lenses); it made sense to ensure the baggage boys didn't use it as a football. If that makes me a bit of a hypocrite, well just wait and see how you feel the next time a guy in no discernable uniform jumps into your car and hauls out your worldly possessions.

Inside the terminal it was a little chaotic. Well, my perception was that the last hours of the Titanic were probably better
Looking into Iguazu Falls from the top.Looking into Iguazu Falls from the top.Looking into Iguazu Falls from the top.

That is actually the Brazillian side. Unfortunately I didn't get across there. And no, I wasn't going to swim there either.
managed than the process of getting people onto buses and the buses onto the road.

A small sidebar seems pertinant at this point. The Terminal is located at Retiro, next to the main train station in Bs As. This train station has a subway stop and runs to a number of towns within the Province of Bs As. It's pretty big, at least by Australian standards. About three separate terminal buildings and lots of stalls.

Between the Station and the Bus Terminal there is an overflowing pavement market where you can buy just about anything you could want. Power adapters? Check. Lots of Havaianas? Check. Various knick-knacks? Check. Good sidewalk food? Check. Lingerie? Check. (Yes, that's right... you can buy all your underwear requirements off a tablecloth spread on a not-so-clean piece of concrete).

On the road besides this market run all the major local bus routes. In fact it feels as if you are in the middle of a bus mating-gound; they appear from all directions, gather up a load of passengers and, with much honking of horns, move slightly less rapidly away.

Finally, having negotiated these areas, you have the Terminal de Omnibus. This location sits on three levels, and has room for over 100 coaches to park simultaneously. This is a good thing, because my memories of the Bus Terminal seems to involve a mandala of coaches spiralling into these parking lots.

There seem to be far more coaches than parking spaces to accomodate them. I'm not sure how they manage to get them all parked for servicing. In fact, I'm pretty sure that the bus companies work really hard to ensure that most buses are on the road rather than parked in the station; they are jugglers trying to conserve the law of perpetual motion.

My first thought when I walked into the Terminal that Sunday was along the lines of Ok, let's just find the departures board and work out when I'm boarding. In some ways the Terminal was like an airport; monitor screens of arrivals and departures, lots of storers full of overpriced junk, masses of people waiting around, and lots of families saying hola/chao.

However, the bright sparks who ran the monitors had decided to only display the next fifteen minutes of departures at any given time. Such just in time planning didn't really do
Yes, you really stand on top of the falls.Yes, you really stand on top of the falls.Yes, you really stand on top of the falls.

You got out to the Falls by a long raised walkway. Then you get to stand right on top of the falls and get wet from the spray (can you see a theme here).
wonders for my nerves. Even the company I was travelling with couldn't be all that helpful... they merely told me to listen for the announcement for Puerto Iguazu.

Hmmm... I decided against telling them I had only been learning Spanish for a week and all the announcements, in common with PA systems around the world, appeared to be being made by a drunk slurring his words...

possibly in a language other than Spanish or English.

So, I parked myself in front of a display and decided to wait on the announcement. Of course, when your bus is scheduled to depart at 7.40pm, and you still haven't seen it announced at 7.30pm, it becomes a bit more of a concern.

Getting a little impatient, I started to walk the line of buses, looking for one painted in the colours of Via Barriloche, the company with which I was travelling. I eventually found it, and, given it had a flashing sign saying Puerto Iguazo 1940 I presented my ticket, paid off the baggage handler and boarded.

Shortly thereafter the coach pulled out of the terminal and we were on our way.

Given my description of how
Not a Toucan.Not a Toucan.Not a Toucan.

Now say it in your best Arnie-voice a la Kindergarten Cop.
chaotic the experience was, and how close we had been to the scheduled departure before I became proactive, how late were we?

About 2 minutes... based on my watch and thus well within the acceptable margin of error. I've now done four trips on coach and it amazes me how disorganised everything seems, how late people are allowed to start getting their gear loaded, and despite this, the coaches always leave almost dead on time.

Bring their schedulers into the NSW public transport system!

And now a word about the coaches.

In South America coaches come in a few different shapes and sizes. The typical coach of Australia, 2 sets of two seats in each row, is known as a semi cama class. Then cama class increases the amount of room, allowing the chair backs to almost recline to 180 degrees. Finally, there is Super cama (or cama suite) which reduces the number of seats to three in each row and installs seats that convert to little beds. Plus they have their own televisions and earphones, and a meal service.

If you find that you need to travel a long distance by coach in South
Cameraman on the Iguazu Boat-rideCameraman on the Iguazu Boat-rideCameraman on the Iguazu Boat-ride

If he's got waterproofs on, am I missing something?
America, take the super cama experience. I found it more comfortable than flying and, so long as the time is not a factor, quite pleasant.

In fact, the bed/seat was more comfortable than any of the hostel mattresses I had been staying in.

The trip to Iguazu was scheduled to take 17 hours. We left at 7.40pm and arrived at 12.30pm the next day. Off course, during that time we did travel the equivalent of from Sydney to Rockhampton so the timing wasn't such a big deal.

Of slightly more concern was the fact that the bus stopped only once in the 17 hours, approximately 12 hours into the trip. I'm choosing to believe they can magically swap drivers whilst on the move... On the other hand, I've checked and there weren't two sets of controls up the front, which leaves me with this image of the drivers finding a straight bit of road and quickly swapping while the bus cruises on; a primitive form of autopilot.

Of course, there is always the chance that it was just the one driver and he does the trip with the assistance of caffeine, nodoz, energy drinks and a
Gargantua del DiabloGargantua del DiabloGargantua del Diablo

The complete falls from the boat. Shortly before I got very wet.
bladder that must be the size of a football.

However, driver or drivers, we arrived at Puerto Iguazu on time. Stepping out of the airconditioned comfort of the bus I had a rapid reintroduction to tropical heat and humidity. Whilst I'd been complaining about the heat and humidity in Bs As, the reality was that it didn't really compare to the tropics. You could feel the steam hit you as you stepped off the bus.

Luckily, I was booked into a hostel and could just jump in a transfer over there.

Now, my hostel in Bs As had been a little basic. The reality was that it was a tenement that had been converted into a hostel by putting lots and lots of beds in each room. Still, it was pleasant enough, so long as you didn't mind the communal shower on each floor and the fact that the toilet had a tendency to clog up every couple of hours. There was breakfast included, drinks available from reception and, so long as you could deal with the omnipresent smoke, it was all very chilled.

The Hostel-Inn was something completely different. This hostel happened to be a
Gargantua del DiabloGargantua del DiabloGargantua del Diablo

Yes, that boat is going straight in to the Falls.
casino in a former life.

As a result it feels more like a resort than a dingy hostel. As the taxi arrived at the hostel, set a good couple of kilometres out of Puerto Iguazu itself, about midway between the falls and the town, the first thing I saw was the swimming pool.

Its a big pool. Befitting a resort more than a backpackers hostel. It did seem to have more than the normal complement of bikini-clad ladies around it, as well as a bar next to the water and lots of sun lounges.

I will admit to being a little concerned; if there were all these people around the pool, were the Falls some sort of cheap tourist con?

Then I remembered the pool, bar and company... I could probably live with the being disappointed...

Anyway, I negotiated check in. Disappointingly my efforts to use Spanish were smiled at and raised by the receptionist who promptly broke into fluent English. I was in a room of six, three people who had already checked in, a Swiss guy and a Dutch girl who were checking in at the same time.

Now, I was booked
Boat inside the Gargantua del DiabloBoat inside the Gargantua del DiabloBoat inside the Gargantua del Diablo

Yes, look close. There actually is a boat in the falls. It is wet. Very wet.
on a tour of the falls the next day, but in order to get to the Brazilian side I needed a visa. I had read in the Lonely Planet that it was easier to source a visa from Iguazu than back in Bs As.

So, I made a trip on the collectivo into Iguazu proper and eventually found the Consulate.
Slight issue.

Turns out the Consulate is only open from 0800 until 1200 each day for tourist issues. Considering I was getting picked up for the Argentine tour at 0800 the next day it didn't appear as if I was going to manage a Brazilian visa... of course, seeing how the only trip I was planning into Brazil was a one hour visit to the other side of the falls, I felt I could live with this fact. Everyone had been telling me that the Argentine side was the good side anyway. Of course, everyone was Argentine, so maybe I shouldn't have been so surprised at that information.

Back to the Hostel, back to the pool and back to the bar. Turns out Monday is an all-you-can-eat assado at the hostel, with a free tango show thrown in.

And free capirinhas...

During dinner I discovered that, based on the accents, about 80% of the guests seemed to be Australians. And most were fighting over the bucket of capirinhas... not a particularly edifying look.
Anyway, the pool was open until 2am, when all guests were politely invited to leave the water before industrial quantities of chemicals were added to sterilise the water for the next day. This also meant the music stayed on until about 2am, which reverberated nicely down around the dorms.

Another side bar... I'm sure a few of you are wondering how a hostel suddenly turns into a resort. Well, it turns out the Hostel-Inn is actually the second business to be run out of the property. Originally the site was a casino, hence the huge pool, grand outdoors areas and sizeable indoors area. Unfortunately (or fortunately if you happen to be a backpacker) the casino went bust, leaving a vacant site that eventually became the backpackers of choice for Australians in Iguazu.

Next day arrived a little bit early. Turns out the aircon doesn't really work all that well up in the tropics (either that or it just really needed
Konrad, Cassie, Baillie, Stu and Marti.Konrad, Cassie, Baillie, Stu and Marti.Konrad, Cassie, Baillie, Stu and Marti.

The cool kids from the tour.
a clean). Turns out that two of my roomies were also booked on the same tour as me of the Argentine side of the Falls. Konrad and Stu were both Aussies, from Melbourne, although Stu had spent a fair bit of time in Canberra.

Turns out he is another ADFA grad; an aero eng from the class below me. Small world...

Anyway, three young Canadian girls from the hostel were on the same tour, so we were loaded into a minivan with another fifteen people from other hotels/hostels and driven off to the falls.

Iguazu is a lot of fun. The falls themselves are awesome. I was pretty impressed with the first sightseeing tour of the day where we caught a little train out to a viewing area, then got to walk right on top of one of the waterfalls. Standing on top of a torrent of water as it rushes over a cliff and feeling the spray and splash come back up at you is exhilarating.

So

Much

Fun

It was made even better by the fact that you walk out the falls on these elevated platforms; literally over the river, so it's not like you are sitting on the banks of the river. You are literally over the falls.

So, having taken a ridiculous amount of photos, laughed, been jostled by the crowds and finally got back to the banks of the river, we retired for lunch and waited for the next part of the day; the Grand Adventure.

Now, I'd signed on for this grand adventure on the promise of a boat ride right up to the bottom of the Falls. Seemed pretty cool, and, in hindsight, I should have remembered Janine and Julian from TIgre warning me about the boat rides and how close you actually get. But more of that later.

First off, we got loaded into the back of a truck that looked and felt very much like an ex-army Unimog.

Then we were driven for about 10km through the jungle with a tour guiide (when she wasn't ducking overhanging branches and spiderwebs) giving us a little information about the rainforest and its inhabitants. It all went by in a little bit of a blur however, as the driver didn't really slow down all that much. As a result I'm pretty sure I
And a Rainbow.And a Rainbow.And a Rainbow.

The last couple of falls after getting wet in the boat had the most amazing rainbows.
saw a couple of different flowers, some vines and various trees, and a lot of spider webs.

Big spiderwebs.

No tarantulas though. The spider were really just gigantic versions of the orb spiders we get back home. Still, any spider that can span six inches is a big spider.

The other downer was the lack of toucan-spotting. Before the truck ride we'd been told about the three species of toucan that live around Iguazu and how we'd likely see them.

Score a big fat zero for Marc. Personally I'm putting that down to the speed of the truck; the only toucan we'd have seen would have been one we hit!

Off the trucks at the end of the drive and a five minute walk down to the pier where a large aluminium boat was waiting. We got fitted with lifejackets, handed a drybag and ushered onto the boat.

At this point I realised a number of things:

One. The crew were in complete waterproofs.

Two. Most of the Argentine passengers were stripped down to boardshorts and no shoes.

Three. I was carrying my digi-slr and about to get very wet.

The boat stopped a couple of hundred metres from the Falls and gave us all a chance to take photos, pose for the camera and generally admire the Gargantua del Diablo, or Devil's Mouth, as this particular part of the Falls was known. Then, once the crew began to completely cover up it was time to see how much could fit in the dry bag.

And onto the Falls.

As we got closer to the falls the Argentines on the boat started chanting and clapping. In fact, had we been at the top of the falls I'd have been looking around to see where the human sacrifice was.

I rapidly discovered that such a sacrifice was the boat. The skipper pushed right into the falls, almost to the point that it felt like the front of the boat was going to touch the downpour.

Lots of cheering and screaming (including from me), lots of water coming inside the boat and everyone getting absolutely saturated.

Rather refreshing after walking around in t he tropical humidity all morning.

All of a sudden the morning viewpoint became a very distant second and the cruise was the highlight of the day. Even if I was saturated and still had to walk up and out of the park. I've heard that waterffalls, like thunderstorms, release positive/negative ions that serve to lighten your mood, and I'm willing to offer my experience as a testimony to this. So much fun.

After that point, the rest of the day was spent coming down from the waterfall high. Iguazu Falls actually comprises almost 300 hundred separate falls, some of which are enormous and some of which are very narrow. As you walk up from the pier at Gordo del Diablo you follow a path that takes you to see another four or five of the falls.

All are very pretty, a number have very striking rainbows, and as a result I am amazed that I only took 200 photos and not 1000. I will admit that I love my digital camera... I'd have spent a small fortune on film by now without it.

The tour finished up around 4pm and we got the lift back to the hostel. Cue more pool-time, drinks (it was a 2-for-1 Happy Hour of some potent cocktail) and an all you can eat buffet (without the tango show).

I eventually wobbled off to bed, worn out by the day (and evening) of fun.

The next day, originally meant to be spent on the Brazillian side, turned into a free day and gave me a chance to check email, update my blog and review my photos. I said goodbye to Stu and Konrad as they headed off to the airport to fly off to Brazil and make their way up towards Carnival.

In fact, most people in Iguazu seemed to be heading on into Brazil. It makes sense, the Falls are on the border and Carnival was only two weeks away. Of all the Aussies (andf there were about 20 of them at the hostel) I met, all except me seemed to be on their way off to Carnival.

Finally, it was time to take the local bus ( collectivo) back to the Terminal de Omnibus and jump on my coach back to Buenos Aires. (I'd managed to time it so that I got a bus back overnight, had about 12 hours to kill in Bs As and then jumped on another overnight coach to Mendoza.)

I shared the bus trip with another Aussie, who'd been travelling though Central and South America for about six months. Got a couple of hints for the next Andean countries... and some recommendations for Mexico. She also made fun of the amount of stuiff I was carrying, and I was sort of forced to agree with her. But my travails with luggage weight and space can wait for another post.

So, I'll end this post as I got on the bus in Iguazu with that scratchy feeling in my throat that really presages only one thing; I was about to get a cold!

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25th February 2010

You didnt get to Carnivale???? Maaate!!!!! Anyway, despite that, am still totally jealous that I am not over. Am completely reliving my trip through your emails!!!! Make sure you get to Rio and Salvador (dangerous in the centre of town but awesome beaches 30mins north). Lots of parties to be had in Rio... must do Friday night Lapa street party! must do all you can eat BBQ! AND have a caparinha for me!!! AWESOME!!!

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