Iguazu – Day 4
I hadn’t planned to visit the Argentine side of the park today. But being offered free entry, buffet lunch, and a pass to the boat ride, I couldn’t refuse.
We met up at 10 a.m. outside the grocery store in Puerto Iguazu. (I finally got smart about water and brought my water bladder and filled it with the much cheaper bottles from the supermarket). Riding in the park employee bus, we chatted a bit over the deafening hum of the aging bus and the “air conditioning” noise of the open windows. A few of his work companions whispered and smiled at the large white man visiting the bus.
Upon pulling up to the park, we veered left of the entrance I had previously used and went down the gravel side road for employee vehicles. We disembarked, he went to change into his waiter uniform, and I was off to see Iguazu again. I agreed to come back for lunch around 1-1:30. Being completely overcast, the Falls just didn’t seem as striking. I took pictures, but without that bright blue sky at the top, it wasn’t nearly as interesting. In shorter order than the previous visits, I cruised through the Circuito Superior so as to make it back in time for lunch.
After eating empanadas or Argentine sandwiches comprised of 1 piece of razor thin meat and lots of bread, eating at a buffet was royal treatment. The restaurant was surprisingly full of variety and featured the chef who cuts the beef or pork for you–good stuff. I couldn’t believe how busy that place was and the number of adolescents chowing down and making lots of noise.
On a full stomach, I walked briskly to my new favorite spot (everyone else’s too), La Garganta del Diablo. We had agreed to meet between 3:30 and 4 when he got off work. So I only had about 2 hours. Nonetheless, I wanted just to stand in front of the majestic view and watch. I again chose to go by foot and had the fortune of seeing several lizards and butterflies along the way. I took a few pictures at the Falls, but not many because of the clouds. This provided some time to take it in and the experience was even sweeter than the day before. Again, I wanted to stay there all day, but had to leave after a short stay in order to meet my escort before 4:00.
I hopped on the mini train and then high tailed it to the restaurant. Having expected to go on the boat ride or jungle trip together, I was disappointed when we started walking toward the exit. It appeared he did not have the connections to do this and had over promised. But I didn’t bring it up. I guess I should have known, but he didn’t have any guest passes or connections. Wanting to show a foreigner a good time basically consisted of taking him in the side entrance and not charging him for lunch. Oops. When I realized we were exiting, and being only 4 p.m., I politely told him I wanted to spend some more time in the park. I again expressed my thanks and we parted ways.
I spent the next couple hours going through the Circuito Inferior. I had hoped to visit San Martin Island, but they had closed it earlier. Along the trail, I talked with a couple girls who had become friends in Costa Rica. One was English and the other from Calgary, Alberta. It started to rain and I walked down the stairs to watch from the shore opposite the island. The day got gloomier and watching with an umbrella was only tolerable for a few minutes. There would definitely be no moonlight tour that day.
For the first time, I returned to the hostel early and not exhausted. I had been wanting to check email, but the five computers were always in use–a byproduct of an especially youthful youth hostel. However, the persistent Windows blue screen of death on one computer afforded me an opportunity. It had been out of commission for a day or two, so no one touched it. I hit the reset button, slected the boot disk from the BIOS screen when it failed to start up, and voila! My geekiness paid off and I had Internet without having to wait in line for an hour.
While reading email, two Argentine girls were playing pool and conversing with a couple American guys in a mix of English and Spanish. As my people tend to do, these guys spoke atrociously bad Spanish. I couldn’t help but smile, and being in close proximity, I looked for the first opportunity to strike up a conversation in Spanish. Call it pride, but given how long they had been in Argentina, I was embarrassed by how poorly they spoke, further enhancing the gringo stereotype. Also, since nearly everyone in the hostel was using English, I wanted to meet some Spanish speakers.
We ended up talking for a few minutes and they invited me to share a picada and some wine while everyone else was eating the hostel barbecue. Summer sausage, bread, and cheese didn’t make the best supper, but it was free and it gave me the chance to meet people. After we finished eating, the silly little Brazilian man with his drum and scantily clad dancing lady friend made their return. I thought it was boring and annoying, but the Argentine girls enjoyed it and joined the dance line. To each their own.
Later we went outside by the Hawaiian style bar, but my ears started to bleed after 15 minutes of the incessantly loud music. I took to one of the beach chairs by the pool, but that lasted about 10 minutes as they were unadjustable and my height prevented any semblance of comfort. Not really in the mood to drink cocktails, yell over the music, and assume the Quasimodo position in order hear my significantly shorter companions, I retired to my dorm room and my old man bedtime.
