|This is where we're going today: Iguazu Falls!|
|Water, water, everywhere|
|The Upper Circuit path|
|The Devil's Throat|
We reboarded the tourist train to travel to the stop where an hour earlier, Julia had all of us in the tour disembark the train because she thought she’d left two people behind… and turned out to have been in the last car, which allowed us to reboard and visit the first waterfall. Julia started talking about the local plants, but the group was moving too slowly so we followed the Germans’ lead and broke away on the way to the lower circuit. The other tour groups have now arrived at the park and clogged it up with stupid people. The worst are the middle-aged to elderly women who insist on smoking right in the middle of an otherwise scenic view. The trick we’ve found for the avoiding the tour groups is to keep inside the 10-15 minute intervals where there aren’t any people around.
Our boat went up to the middle of the Devil’s Throat, but not far enough to feel surrounded. You can see people on the Brazilian side, and I don’t know if they can take the boat any further because of border control issues. The boat is under-powered and struggling to keep even with a spot on the shoreline. The captain whipped the boat around like a top and we drifted down the river a bit. Our guide is the most suavely-dressed riverman I’ve seen. His coordinated yellow life vest is matched to his polar fleece under the gunmetal gray drysuit that matches his mirrored sunglasses. His hair is slicked back and the small band-aid on the left side of his forehead looks like it’s an accessory for that ‘tough and ready’ touch to his polished façade.
|On the boat and into the mist!|
|The Isla San Martin|
|See more of RRR's Travels: #travelRRR|
|Coatis on the railing!|
We left the island and walked back through the park, stopping for soda and cookies. It’s 2:30 and that’s all we’ve eaten today. Rather than take the train, we walked the Sendero Verde (Green Path) back to the information center. I bought a T-shirt for $6 USD. I feel kind of silly weaing it right now, since the rest of my clothes are still soaked. Our tour bus dropped us back at the hotel where we hung up our clothes to dry and went out for dinner.
Taking a different route than last time, we walked through the non-tourist streets in search of food. We saw a white dog covered in red earth laying next to a pristinely cleaned Siamese cat whose intense blue eyes followed us down the sidewalk. We ate dinner at an outdoor restaurant with ambient music similar to the stuff Enigma puts out. I had a spicy beef shish kabob in the Guarini style, some appetizers, another caipiriña, and a dessert of flaky layers and dulche de leche with an Argentinean cappuccino. By the time we finished dinner, we couldn’t move for half an hour. We did a little shopping, then walked back to the hotel while dodging locals selling jewelry displays on blankets spread across the sidewalk. I had to pass them again on my quick trip to the maxi kiosk to get some bottled water and more pomelo soda.
My clothes are still drying out, scattered across the room on hangars mounted to any ledge I could find that would hold them. We’ve been hearing interesting music here. Shakira, in English (what’s up with that?) and “The girl from Ipanema” in Spanish. Our air conditioning is blasting because it has no metal control knobs, only the metal stamps that they sit on. If we want it turned off or on, we have to call down to the front desk and they will send in someone fix it. I’m not sure why they won’t let us do it ourselves. The German tourists that were at the Boca Game we went to have confirmed that we did actually see Maradona in the stadium /blog/ at the game yesterday.