When I stepped off the plane at Puerto Iguazú, I was surprised at how warm and humid it was. A second surprise was that the airport was in the middle of a national forest and surrounded by trees. A taxi driver named Sergio drove half an hour along a dark tree-lined road to reach the Mercure Hotel where I would be staying. He drove slowly due to the risk of hitting an animal like a tapir that is large and heavy. Like the airport, the hotel was ringed by trees and referred to by the locals as a jungle but which to me felt like a forest.
I liked Sergio, so when he offered to take me to the entrance of the park the next morning to see the famous waterfalls, I said yes. He would be my driver while I was there. He agreed to check about my need for a visa to enter Brazil.
Friday, April 26. It was my day to see the famous falls. Sergio picked me up at 8:30 and dropped me off at the gate to the national park with the agreement to come for me at 2 o’clock. I bought my entrance ticket and walked a couple hundred meters to where a narrow-gauge train with open cars took me to a point where the trails began.
Needless to say, I was one of many — families, couples, and a few solo travelers like me. I was happy to see that there were plenty of servicios or toilets. I passed shops selling clothing and souvenirs among others selling drinks and fast food.
Of two trails, I chose the lower and must have walked at least a kilometer before hearing falling water. The paved trail became a boardwalk of steel-mesh panels, spanning streams of water and uneven ground. I was comfortable walking because most of the other people, many led by guides, had chosen the upper trail.
I descended to where I could see a wide range of falling water, colored brown from sediment. Many thousands of gallons a minute flowed over the cliffs into a wide river below. I could see a tour boat loaded with tourists navigating the river and coming quite close to the falls. It reminded me of the one at Niagara Falls. There was plenty of mist and a strong rainbow.
I took in the power of the falling water at different vantage points and had plenty of time to do so. As I moved around, monkeys jumped in the trees beside me, and . . .
I began to see coaties, animals the size of raccoons with long bushy tails and faces resembling a possum. They have become used to humans who feed them. Signs warned that monkeys and coaties were not pets and would scratch and bite. Despite the warnings, I saw men trying to touch them.
Walking back to the trail head, I began following the upper trail. The temperature was approaching 30 degrees centigrade (86 degrees Fahrenheit) and I was perspiring. It was easier walking, as there were no climbs or descents. I was above the points where the water ran over the cliffs, so the perspective was different.
Having had my fill of watching water fall, I had plenty of time before meeting Sergio. I bought a t-shirt for our friend Murat and a key fob for our cleaning lady Havva. Near the park entrance, was a real restaurant with tables and a menu, from which I ordered lunch that I ate while drinking a beer. I read the news on my phone before it was time to meet Sergio.
At the hotel by the pool, I discovered a jacuzzi that was comfortable. The pool water afterwards was surprisingly cool, and I didn’t stay in long. I stretched out on a padded chaise longue with a towel and enjoyed gazing up at the treetops against the blue sky.
I took a nap before eating a salad of lettuce, blue cheese, walnuts and passion fruit that I dressed from a side dish of orange sauce.
The following morning, Sergio picked me up at 8:30 again and drove to the border with Brazil where a long line of cars waited to cross. We joined a shorter line for taxis where I filled out a form needed for Argentinian immigration. To enter Brazil, I needed only show my passport. The rumors about needing a visa were wrong.
As in North America, where Niagara Falls can be experienced from either the U.S. or Canada, Iguazú Falls can be viewed from both Argentina and Brazil. That morning Sergio dropped me at the entrance to Brazil’s national park. I had to be at the airport in Foz do Iguaçu at noon, so time was short. I took a double-decked bus with others along a road for more than ten minutes to a spot where most passengers got off.
I stayed on to the end of the line where a short walk took me to a dramatic view of the falls called The Devils’ Throat. Again, there was a bright rainbow over the water, and there were more butterflies than I had ever seen in one place.
I found Sergio who had been waiting and drinking maté with other drivers. He drove me the short distance to the airport where we said goodbye. I found a comfortable lounge with good things to eat — vegetable soup, lasagna Bolognaise, pieces of frosted cake and a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon. Rio de Janeiro would be the last leg of my Latin American odyssey that began nearly four months previously. I was almost ready to go home.