(Don’t) Go Chasing Waterfalls
Back in August on our first three-day weekend of the semester, a bunch of us ventured to one of South America’s greatest natural wonders: Iguazu Falls. Iguazu is home to some of the largest waterfalls in the world and is located at the crossroads of Argentina, Brazil, and Paraguay with Argentina and Brazil claiming the most impressive views.
While in the US we have the luxury of relatively reasonable flights and trains, here in Argentina it is all about the omnibus – think a nicer version of Megabus or Boltbus with huge, business-class-esque reclining seats. To get to Iguazu, we took an omnibus that took 16 hours to get there and 20 hours to return. The 16 hours there were surprisingly painless, largely due to excellent company and several bottles of wine. The return, however, was agonizing thanks to a faulty bus bathroom, god-awful Miley Cyrus movies, a flat tire, and way too many sketchy stops on dirt roads in the middle of nowhere.
Besides the bus ride back, Iguazu was absolutely amazing. As a hostel-virgin, I didn’t quite know what to expect from our accommodations. Fortunately, I was pleasantly surprised. Some of my friends even stayed in double rooms that were exactly like normal hotel rooms while the rest of us bunked up with some strangers- who, in my case, happened to be a recent UChicago grad, a University of California junior, a porteña (someone who is from Buenos Aires), and a Swiss student.
Our first adventure upon arrival in Iguazu- ziplining through the rainforest- was exhilarating, but not nearly as terrifying as our journey to the starting point. Our chariot was a safari truck that easily dated back to the Nixon administration. As we were bumping along some dirt (re: mud) roads, passing through some indigenous villages, we suddenly hit a huge pit of mud and the truck literally dug itself into a hole. The driver’s efforts to get up out of the muddy abyss only led us deeper and deeper into the mess. Seconds later, my side of the safari truck was facing the rainforest’s edge at a thirty-degree angle. There was no doubt in my mind that we were going to tip over into the forest. Naturally, we were bugging. But alas, a gaucho in shining armor appeared! And by gaucho, I mean a glorious old indigenous man on a tractor, but at that moment he was our rescuer so he might as well have been Hoya heartthrob, Bradley Cooper. His tractor pulled us out of the trees and mud and soon we were on the road again.
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That night, the hostel provided fine in-house entertainment. Who knew that Hostel Inn was the place to be on Saturday nights in Iguazu? Dinner included caipirinhas (a potent Brazilian concoction) and there were dancers wearing barely anything that corralled the visiting Americans and Europeans to join them in all sorts of performances. It was reminiscent of the bar mitzvah era at my predominantly Jewish prep school in Miami, besides the fact that we were at a hostel in Argentina.
The next day we finally got to the main attraction: the waterfalls. I have never been anywhere like it. Not to sound cliché, but their beauty and size were truly unbelievable. The amount of water crashing down was unreal. Unfortunately, the water level was too high for us to go on a boat and get really up-close and personal with the falls, but it was nonetheless incredible. Without a doubt one of the most impressive places I have ever been. If you are ever in Argentina or Brazil, Iguazu Falls are definitely a must see. All in all, not too shabby for our first weekend beyond the bounds of Buenos Aires.
Chau,
Kelly
Sources:
http://www.bairesapartments.com/iguazu-falls-tourism-4.html
http://www.thiagoavila.com/pics/v/2visit/Iguazu+Falls-Brazil.JPG.html