That’s not a waterfall... This is a waterfall!

17–19 June 2013

So, when I was planning this trip, Chris and I had, shall we say, ‘a discussion’ about whether or not to go to Iguassu to see the waterfalls. I wanted to go, based on its glowing reviews and it being one of the new Seven Natural Wonders of the World. Chris didn’t see the point in going so far out of our way to see some waterfalls, when he’d seen waterfalls before, and was much more focussed on getting to Copacabana Beach in Rio. 

But you see, these aren’t just any waterfalls. These are 275 waterfalls that stretch for 2.7km and range between 60 and 82m high, with numerous islands and inlets along the way. The Devil’s Throat, a U-shaped chasm and focal point of the falls, is 82m high, 150m wide and 700m long. Overall, Iguassu falls are taller than Niagra Falls and twice as wide. They are located in the protected Iguassu National Park, bordering Paraguay, Argentina and Brazil. From the Brazil side, you see them mostly from afar, giving you a wider perspective of them. From the Argentinian side, you can get up close and personal with them.

Some things are worth the battle. I managed to convince him to go with me. And let’s just say that he was glad he did. 

These waterfalls are the most breathtakingly beautiful and powerful natural phenomenon I’ve experienced. And you do experience them. Whether that's watching them from afar, walking up the wooden platforms to the fall's very edge and reaching your hand out to touch them, or getting in an open-top boat that goes right up to and under their spray, leaving you breathless and your heart racing and blood and adrenaline pumping.

It was humid and warm in Iguassu, usually overcast and rainy in the mornings and clearing up by lunch time, leaving us with warm sun and blue skies for the rest of the day. After breakfast on our first day there, we caught a public bus from right outside our hotel to the Brazilian side of the falls, then another bus inside the park that dropped us off at one of the main lookouts (opposite the very posh hotel we were staying at the next night). It was about a 2.7km walk from there to the Devil’s throat, with the falls and river on our right, the tropical jungle on our left. 

The falls were genuinely impressive. They are huge expanses of rushing water, carving its way down the hillsides, through boulders and the few trees remaining, and pounding the river below, throwing up huge arcs of white spray and glorious rainbows. The spray is blown all over the place, like rain, and there’s a permanent mist in the air. The force and energy of the water is unfathomable (to me anyway) and awesome (in the true sense of the word). The energy fills you when you stand close to the falls, giving you a huge rush. 

The river ranges from clear to white (where the waterfalls meet it) to murky brown (where its full of silt, pushed down by the falls, sadly disrupting the fish, animals and plants).

We meandered up the path, taking it all in and stopping at appropriate touristy spots for photos. We donned our ponchos and walked out onto the platforms overlooking the Devil’s throat. We didn’t go too far out, because it was quite wet and slippery, and the spray and wind from the falls were strong. Further up near the gift shop and restaurant was another look out, where we could see the river that feeds that part of the falls. The river is deceptively still and peaceful compared with the gush of water it becomes a few metres downstream.

The jungle is full of animals, birds and butterflies – another huge drawcard for the national park. Large birds, like eagles, circle the falls, while lots of other little, colourful birds flit among the trees beside the path. They have odd colours and patterns, like yellow eyebrows or a red spot on their back. 

Butterflies swarm around you and in the trees and bushes along the path. They land on your hands, arms, shoulders, head or bag, sunbaking to dry their wings in the sun. They have the most beautiful colours and patterns on their wings: from blacks and browns to bright yellows, reds, oranges, blues, purples and greens. Some are as big as my hand, while others as small as my thumbnail. They are so friendly and game, not bothered by humans at all. I don’t quite understand why they fly so close to the falls though, flitting in and out of the spray near the restaurant without a care, then landing on the rails or tourists to dry off.

Big snails with bright yellow cone shells creep along the rails and in the jungle, again, not seemingly too bothered by the tourists. I haven’t seen snails like them before, with such strange coloured and shaped shells. 

Quatis, little, mischievous racoon-like native creatures, harass tourists for food, tearing open and rummaging in their bags, and hanging off their legs. Quatis lure you into the urge to pat them (they’re so cute!), then can literally attack you. Signs outside the restaurant warn tourists not to touch them, or feed them, for risk of ending up with huge gashes (delightfully illustrated with photos of past incidents to further deter you). They’re also getting fat and changing colour from eating human food, which is another reason park rangers try to deter tourists from feeding these animals. If you kneel down, quatis flock around you, after a pat and food. They also snuggle up to and groom each other, and have such strong personalities, just like cats do. We didn’t pat them, of course, but other (less astute) tourists did.
We grabbed lunch and finished early at the falls, so we stopped by the bird park across the road on our way back to town.
The park is a lovely mix of different-sized mesh enclosures and jungle, all mostly blending into one another. The gardens include tall trees and vines that provide a canopy for the ferns, palms, bromeliads, and smaller trees and tropical flowers below. It seems like a fairly natural-like environment for the animals.
As well as an array of stunning and often surprisingly friendly tropical birds, like toucans, emu-like birds, bright red water birds, peacocks, turkey- or cassowary-like birds (which like to pick-pocket tourists for attention), macaws and all sorts of parrots, the park is home to other animals, including turtles, tortoises, crocodiles, snakes and monkeys. The monkeys have white on their very human-looking faces, spikey dreddy hair and look a bit ‘voodoo’ – quite disturbing actually.

I fell in love with the toucans, with their sleek, shiny, silky, soft black and brightly coloured feathers, and awkward big beaks. They remind me a little of cats, with such strong, independent, playful and fun personalities, and a purr-like call. A few of them let us pat them, which was very cool. Another one was sick of tourists patting him so flew over to one of the keepers, who he snuggled up to, before tugging on the keeper’s shirt and pants’ pocket, then eating the aerial off his radio for attention!

Macaws are also incredible birds. So large and commanding (and more than a little intimidating). Some are almost as tall as me. They were spread all across the park, but we went into an enclosure where about 50 of them were kept alongside other smaller parrots (one of which landed on my head and got caught in my hair!). In the enclosure, the macaws hang upside down and at all kinds of weird angles from the mesh walls, eyeing you off rather menacingly. Some swoop, so you have to duck to avoid them. They have the most fantastic, brightly coloured feathers too – vibrant reds, blues, greys and yellows. Their squawks and cries are deafening. I think they are understandably mad at being kept in the enclosure.

On our second day there, we went on a tour to the Argentinian side of the falls (quickly organising our visa online the night before!). We had breakfast, checked out of the hotel and were picked up early. I was surprised at how quickly and easily we crossed the border in our little minibus full of tourists, our driver holding our pile of passports and visas. I guess they border guards are used to it.

The tour was great – organising the border crossing, our entry to the park on the Argentinian side, and all our boating and tour tickets inside the park. They also picked us up promptly at the end of the day and dropped us back at our hotels.

We started with a 20-minute truck trip through the jungle, with a funny guide who spoke in English and Spanish, and laughed heartily at her own jokes. She told us about the different plants that we passed, including the endangered palms, harvested for palm hearts (hot tip: make sure your palm hearts are from farms, not native forests). It takes 15 years to grow a palm, and once its heart is harvested, it dies. The jungle also has a problem with orange and lemon trees. Apparently there used to be a nearby hotel with an ‘exotic’ garden. The animals ate the fruit and spread the seeds through the jungle, resulting in the plants popping up all over the place. The locals are now trying to get rid of them to protect the native plants and animals.

The truck dropped us at a boat, which took us down the river and to some of the falls. It was exhilarating and intense to say the least! Our belongings (including cameras and a change of clothes) were wrapped in waterproof bags under our seats. The driver took the boat so close into the spray that it felt like we were going right into the hard white walls of water, although he probably kept a good safe distance back. We were absolutely drenched with spray and waves of water, and bursting with adrenaline from the power and energy of the water above and around us. Each time we inched closer to the white wall of water, hearts pumping, tossed from side to side by the waves, we braced for the soaking that seemed to come from all sides. It was like having buckets of water thrown at us repeatedly, with a really, really loud whoosh sound all around.

When the boat docked, Chris and I got changed and dried off a little, then started walking the trails through the national park. Each trail takes you to a different part of the park, to different waterfalls. We aimed (and managed) to see them all – they aren’t too long or difficult to hike. As its name suggests, the upper trail takes you through the higher ground and over the top of several waterfalls, giving you a birds’ eye view down into their chasms. The lower trail takes you closer to the waterfalls themselves, allowing you to reach out and touch them.

There’s a train that takes you, ever so slowly, to the Argentinian side of the Devil’s throat. It drops you about 1km from the waterfall, and you follow a path through the jungle and across several rivers and streams. The rivers are glassy flat, deceptively still and calm, yet the reeds and bushes growing in the water sway, betraying a strong rip of sorts below the surface. 

You can hear the Devil’s throat and see its spray – great clouds of mist and foam in the sky – long before you can see the actual waterfalls. When you reach the waterfalls, there is an almost overwhelming rush of energy, power and awe (and more than a little fear). The rush of water spills so forcefully and heavily into the abyss that you can’t see the bottom. Or even half way up the cliff. You have no sense of how deep it is, only that it is far (and lethal). When the wind pushes the foam and mist into the sun’s rays, which intermittently break through the clouds, rainbows of varying sizes, length and depth reach down toward the water, floating above the falls or hovering in the abyss below. One rainbow we saw was almost a full circle. 

All around and below us, the water tumbled and flowed over the cliff face, into the abyss in an incredible show of energy. Then it sprayed back up again, leaving all of us tourists (and the professional photographers) very wet. We didn’t bother changing again, mainly because we didn’t have any more dry clothes.

Our tour guide dropped us back at our hotel, who called us a taxi to take us back to the national park, where we waited about 15 minutes for the hotel shuttle bus to take us into the hotel in the park. It was a very dark and stormy night, and we drove through the pelting rain and thunder, through the jungle, to the hotel. The pitch black night was broken only by the headlights and the occasional show of lightening. It felt a little like a horror movie, to be honest – and rather unnerving.

But our welcome at the hotel was warm and bright. The hotel itself is a big, old mansion in the middle of the park. Strangely painted pink and white, the building looks like a cross between a classic European mansion and a little girl’s dolls’ house, with beautifully manicured gardens and a huge pool. It’s part of the posh Orient Express chain (I didn’t know there was such a chain, but I’d be happy to stay in one of their other hotels too!). It and the staff were impeccable, and the entire time there we felt very special and well tended to.
The staff were extremely efficient, polite and friendly. And obviously very well trained. I think they must have been practising my name, because they were the first  (and only) ones on this trip (and in fairness, in native English-speaking countries too) to get it right first go. Hilariously (at least to me), the staff called Chris ‘Mr Pobjoy’, because I’d booked the room. I actually think that has a good ring to it, but he disagrees.

After our personal tour of the hotel, courtesy of the concierge, we were taken down the rabbit warren of long, wide halls to our room – apparently the second best room in the hotel, with stunning views of the waterfalls (we had been upgraded on my request). We were right next door to the presidential suite (the best room in the house, of course). The bellboy brought our bags up, and while Chris showered, a waiter delivered a bottle of some fancy pants champagne (which we only got ¾ of the way through, sadly). It did go nicely with the complimentary chocolates (to celebrate our honeymoon) and the standard chocolates on the pillow. We’d also been given complimentary Haviana thongs (we changed them at reception to get the right sizes) and a beautiful bunch of pure white roses.

The room was beautiful, with lace floor mats; cushions galore; several pretty lamps; a separate entrance hall with a day bed; a huge king-size bed; a little ornate wooden table and cushioned chairs; a decadent bathroom with fancy toiletries and a built-in seat in the shower; a dressing gown; slippers; a dressing room; and thick, heavy curtains and blinds. All the fabrics were plush and oozed wealth and elegance. 

In the morning, we woke to amazing, clear and unbroken views of one of the main sections of the waterfalls from our windows – they were straight across the hotel lawns. I sat for about 20 minutes taking it all in (and photographing it and bragging on Facebook). It was such a beautiful, energising, grounding view to wake to first thing in the morning, and so special to hear the falls while lying in bed (kind of an amplified version of listening to the rain on the roof).

We dressed up for dinner and eventually found our way back down to the dining room, where we indulged ourselves with cocktails, wine and lots of delicious (really, really expensive) food – hang the cost! In case you’re wondering, there were complimentary, ornate bread rolls with various butters and foamy dips, and we had salad with fruit and bruschetta with deep-fried mozzarella for entrée; and pasta for mains (mine was layered with goats’ cheese, vegetables, tomato sauce and cheese, and Chris had buffalo mozzarella ravioli). It was far more delicious and rich than it sounds. 

Feeling rather warm and fuzzy, I grabbed a nightcap Drambui from the bar to take up to my room, had another shower so I could wear my robe, and hopped into bed to watch TV, drink champagne and eat chocolate. Understandably, I nodded off quick smart when Chris put the basketball on. That or perhaps the rather indulgent, luxurious and beautiful night in that gorgeous hotel (and several weeks of travel) had tuckered me out. 

Despite our lovely room, it was too hot for either of us to sleep well. Chris turned down the temperature at some stage during the night, but it didn’t help. I woke about 6.15am, uncomfortable in the heat, then dozed for an hour or so more. Chris slept in til 9am, when I woke him to go get some breakfast.
The breakfast spread was most impressive and we stuffed ourselves again (although we didn’t sample the champagne on ice), enjoying the beautiful garden views and letting the waiters pamper us. Everyone treated us so nicely and respectfully for our entire stay there, despite the fact we weren’t dressed the part and clearly weren’t rich (like some of the guests, including one couple with their little boy and nanny).

We checked out and had time to kill before our flight that evening, so we explored the hotel grounds – going up the tower in to the lookout (the highest point in the park, apparently), visiting the cafes and shops (where I was given free charms in a jewellery shop), walking around the pristine pool and beautifully manicured gardens, and taking another stroll along the promenade to the Devil’s throat and back again, looking at the waterfalls and jungle flora and fauna.

With the overnight rain, the waterfalls and rivers had filled, making them even more impressive than the previous two days. They were absolutely gushing and their spray was thick and drenching, making it hard to see them properly. I can’t imagine the force and energy of these waterfalls, or what they’d be like in the wet season!

Having paid so much attention to the waterfalls over the past two days, I spent a bit more time taking in the jungle. It was full of birds, butterflies, snails and quatis, who played happily among the mosses, lichen, ferns and vines, looking for bugs to eat. The gentle lush, green, quiet jungle was such a contrast to the raw, white, rough roar of the waterfalls across the river.

The jungle in Brazil and Argentina has such a energising, peaceful quality. It strengthens, revives and brightens, but calms and lightens you. You can’t help but feel joy (and slightly humbled) when you’re surrounded by such powerful, pure and picturesque nature.

When we reached the airport later that afternoon, we manoeuvred through the painful, convoluted security and bag checks to board our plane to Rio. An electrical fault with our plane delayed our departure by an hour or so, but thankfully our driver in Rio had waited for us, and dropped us safely at our hostel for the next – and final – leg of our adventure.

Granted, the entire Iguassu hotel experience cost a small fortune (to us, anyway) but, you know what? It was our honeymoon and it is probably the only time we will do it, so why not? You've got to treate yourself and live a little. (Or a lot in this case...)