Kyle Berg

I may have set a record for most days visiting Iguazu Falls. Most tourists come here and stay 1-3 days. I stayed a week and never grew tired of the views and more chances to practice taking pictures. I had hoped to do the moonlight tour of La Garganta del Diablo, but had a combination of poor planning and bad luck with the weather. The first two days of the full moon were great, but I hadn’t thought of doing the tour and was focused on daytime activity. The third day, when I had my ticket, was clouded over, as was the fourth. On the fifth and final day of full moon light, I arrived early at the bus station and asked about buying a ticket for that night, but they had all been sold due to the escalating demand caused by two canceled nights. I should have bought my ticket the previous day and regretted not doing so. But other than that, there was nothing more on my list. However, several people at the hostel told me I needed to take the boat trip under the falls. It appeared rather touristy to me, but I gave in and decided to go one more time in order to do the boat trip.

Christian, Inka, and I met at the entrance and made for La Garganta del Diablo. We took the small train there and then walked the footbridge toward the roaring sound of the water. I enjoyed watching the disbelief on Christian’s face and his priceless smile when we got close to the Falls. After seeing them from the more distant Brazilian shore, this was a different experience and he walked slowly, trying to take it all in and savor the moment. I’m not sure how long we stayed at the lookout–perhaps an hour or hour and a half. We took our time and fortunately the number of tourists was significantly less that day. The only downside was that we visited this part first, making the other striking views seem less dramatic.

Afterwards, we took the train back and stopped at a snack shop for sandwiches. Then we were on our way to see the Circuito Superior. From this vantage point, I noticed something distinctly different. The quantity of water, while still unimaginable, was less than it had been the previous few days. The color of the water below was more of a turquoise color rather than coffee brown. Waterfalls were smaller, but this also made for better visibility because of the reduced amount of spray and mist. I told Christian and Inka they had timed it perfectly because they arrived when there were fewer tourists, perfect skies, and enhanced visibility. Finally, we headed for the Circuito Inferior and went through rather quickly in order to make it to San Martin Island before it closed and to do the boat excursion. I had seen the distant view from this circuit before, but once again I felt as if I were watching a movie looking out from there. Something about that specific angle made it seem even more surreal than being on top of the water. It wasn’t necessarily better or worse, just distinct. We should have gone to the island sooner and were left with only 20 minutes to hastily climb the stairs, grab a few pictures, and return to the boat. Inka and Christian decided to stay on the shore at first, but Christian changed his mind and joined me a few minutes later up at the lookout platform. A young guide told us it was time to leave, but offered to show us another part of the island on the way out. We figured that, as long as we were with him, they wouldn’t leave us stranded on the island.

He showed us a dry part of the backside of San Martin and explained that just a few days earlier, water had been flowing through where we were standing. The lower water level was caused mainly by the regulation of water flow via the Brazilian dams upstream, and to a lesser extent, the quantity of rain in the Amazons. This also influenced the color because a greater quantity of water meant more sediment and other particles were washed into the river and carried downstream to Iguazu. The young man was very kind and went out of his way to tell us about a place 3 or 4 kilometers to the south, just off one of the trails. He described a small cavern caused by countless years of water flow. From the way he made it sound, it was strikingly beautiful. He was somewhat emotional talking about the place and genuinely wanted us to have a great experience at Iguazu. For whatever reason, Christian and I must have made a good impression. I think it was because of the language and an effort to appreciate his country. I’m sure it was a nice place, but I couldn’t justify another trip to the park the next day.

What we failed to think about, however, was how our arriving late to the shore had worried Inka. When we arrived at the shore 20 minutes late with our guide, she was descending the stairs from the other direction. Earlier, not knowing what had happened to us, she immediately went into panic mode, climbed the stairs, and was yelling for us. But because of the noise of the water, we couldn’t hear her. We hadn’t been worried about it, but she was incredibly startled and started to cry when she saw Christian. Earlier in the day she had been all smiles and talkative, but now she was silent and looked as though she had seen a ghost.

We crossed back over to do the boat tour of the Falls, but I ended up going alone because Inka didn’t seem emotionally ready to do anything. I should have trusted my gut instinct in regard to the boat tour. It was extremely touristy and I wanted my 50 pesos back! We placed our belongings in waterproof bags, hopped in the boat, and took off. First, we went town the left hand side along the Brazilian and Argentine border. The boat drew close to a waterfall a few times and we got soaked. Even at that small waterfall, it was impossible to see anything with water spraying in your face. Next, we went back to the right and went under the edge of a much larger fall two or three times. The raw force of the water prevented us from going anywhere near the center. But that was it! A grand total of 10 minutes was spent in the boat and then we headed back to shore. I did get a couple cool pictures from the water level perspective, but definitely felt ripped off by a tourism gimmick.

After changing shirts, I looked around for Christian and Inka, but couldn’t find them anywhere. Later, I learned they couldn’t find me either and had taken the final boat tour of the day. I made the long walk to the park entrance and took the bus back to town. I did some asking around about bus tickets to Curitiba and found only one Argentine company that made the trip once a week. They told me I’d have to go to Foz do Iguacu on the Brazilian side to make the reservation. I proceeded to buy a few groceries and then headed to Christian and Inka’s hostel, hoping to find them there and at least exchange emails. Fortunately, they were in the lobby. Christian occasionally had runner’s knee and it was acting up on him. While Inka went to an Internet cafe to look for possible treatment ideas, I said goodbye and thanked them for a pleasant couple days. I also promised to send them pictures and possibly meet up with them again if they made it down to Patagonia.

Back at the hostel, I paid my 20 pesos and ate the house barbecue. I didn’t know anyone around me and was a bit too tired to search for people to meet. Eventually, I spent a few minutes talking with a friendly girl from Colombia at the table. She had been living in Australia for two years studying English and had come back to South America for a short visit. We spoke a combination of Spanish and English and her Spanish was much easier for me to understand as it had that nice neutral tone for which the Colombians and Venezuelans are known. Later, I sat down at a couch and chatted with a group of people comprised of: a Canadian, an English woman, 3 Ecuadorians, and a Frenchman. The guy from France was looking at going down to Ushuaia and Patagonia as well, so we exchanged emails. Once again quite tired, I headed for bed for the last time in Puerto Iguazu.