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Greetings From Iguazú Falls
By Thomas Keyes
Mar. 14, 2007
Truly awesome are Iguazú
Falls, the world-famous cataract on the Río Iguazú, a
tributary of the Río Paraná, in Misiones, a province in the
northeast of Argentina. I went out there today from Puerto
Iguazú, a nearby town of around 30,000, also in Misiones. This is in the
Triple Frontier, the area surrounding the point where Argentina, Brazil
and Paraguay
all meet. In 2005, I passed through
Ciudad del Este, Paraguay and Foz de Iguaçu. Brazil, both of which are much larger than Puerto Iguazú. These three countries are separated by
rivers rather than imaginary lines on a map, so traveling from one to the other
is more difficult. Not only that but also Paraguay
and Brazil
require visas. Mine are long
expirted. So I viewed the falls
only from the Argentine side.
I left Buenos Aires at 7 PM Monday on a
bus belonging to Río Uruguay
lines. I was in the foremost seat
on the upper deck and had an excellent view. Buenos Aires,
as is known, is in the Pampas, or green prairies, of Argentina, but as we moved north,
the land started undulating into green hills and became increasingly
afforested, so that by the time we reached the northern part of Misiones, we
were in the thick of impenetrable jungle, one of the few patches of jungle in
the country. Puerto Iguazú
is on the 25th parallel, just a short distance from the Tropioc of Capricorn. The distance from Buenos Aires is about 600 miles.
This morning about 7 o’clock, I boarded a city bus out to the
falls and was there 30 minutes later.
The falls are inside Iguazú
National Park, with
admission being about US $10. Once
inside, I was instructed by some girl to board a mini-train, which rolled for 2
or 3 miles. Then I
transferred to another mini-train for another 2 or 3 miles. From the terminus
of the second railroad, I walked with a random party of about 100 people one
more mile to an observation platform practically above the falls. We were within 50 feet of the nearest
spills, as the Iguazú tumbles down 100 feet or so, sending up a fine
spray that looks like steam. Then I
walked around another path for an hour or so. This is thick, steamy jungle. There are supposed to be coatimundi
in the park, but I didn’t see any.
The park is just full of butterflies, thousands upon thousands. I had almost forgotten that these little
beauties exist. Around the park, and in Misiones generally, there are rushing torrents
of reddish, clayey water, a typical phenomenon of tropical rainforests. But the trails were provided with
pedestrian bridges.
I visited Niagara Falls
in 1972, but that’s so long ago, it’s hard for me to say what they
were like, but very similar to Iguazú as I recall.
The town of Puerto
Iguazú is neat and clean, spiffy and
attractive, catering to the tourist trade.
For the first time since I’ve been in Argentina, I heard quite a few
Americans speaking English. It was
typical stuff. You know, one
rotund, pot-bellied, amorphous mass of a middle-middle to upper-middle-class
Irish American was showing everyone his pedometer, which showed that he had
walked 590 paces, for a distance of 2.3 miles, and had used up 111
calories. Everyone oohed and aahed
at his little electronic device, but no one seemed to catch the obvious
paradox: his paces would have had to be over 20 feet to make the equation work.
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About the author Thomas Keyes: I have written two books: A SOJOURN IN ASIA (non-fiction) and A TALE OF UNG (fiction), neither
published so far.
I have studied languages for years and traveled
extensively on five continents.
Email:
udikeyes@yahoo.com
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