Southbound Gringos

After our long day at the falls on the Brazilian side, we are exhausted from the awe, travel, hikes and sun.

We cross the border into Argentina and settle into our hotel, a Sheraton, which is the only hotel within Iguazú National Park. And we have four gloriously plush nights ahead of us... plus we booked with our SPG points so the entire stay is free! Hurrah!

The hotel is amazing - beautiful spa, swimming pool and restaurants all nestled in blanket of nature. Our up-graded room even has views of the falls, which we can't see yet because of the fading light, but we can hear. The lawn sloping down to the pool glimmers with faded colors, dark shadows and full moon light.

Sleep comes quickly.

Before leaving Iguaçu in Brazil to cross the river and the border to Iguazú National Park in Argentina for a four-night stay, we decide to take a mini-ecological hike that is highlighted on our guide map.

When we arrive at the trailhead leading into the jungle, the road is blocked off and it says “Do Not Enter”. “Well, that is that,” I say. “I guess we should head back. Maybe go to the crap-store (i.e. gift shop) at the exit”.

Tom looks at me like I am crazy. “Are you kidding?” he asks. “They didn’t tell us this was shut. Now we have an hour and half to kill before our cab arrives. No way I am going to spend that much time in any crap-shop. We are going to go…” And then he ducks under the rail closing off the road and walks away.

I gasp. I am a dork. Obviously. I know this.

Breaking the rules in a national park?!?! What if a ranger sees us and he asks us to turn around?!? Horror. How utterly embarrassing!

Or what if we are thrown out of the country, never to return because of our transgression? What if the road is blocked off because of a marauding Leopard? Or an infestation of Anacondas and Boa Constrictors?

These thoughts leap through me mind like frightened sheep through a shoot.

By this time, Tom is just about to round the bend and disappear from view. I sigh, duck under the guardrail, and scurry after him while on a constant look out for dangerous movement and threatening sounds from the forest.

On our walk, we do hear unknown sounds and I am startled multiple times by movements from the trees. But they turn out to be nesting birds, vague and disappearing forms of monkeys and… innocuous butterflies.

Clouds of butterflies are sucking moisture from the dirt road, stirred in whirling frenzy as our feet disturb their silent pleasure.

So, I guess I was wrong. The road was not paved with animal minefields and booby-traps erected by rangers to catch dim-witted tourists. My brave, heroic and dangerous foray into rule breaking produced nothing more than a few light-dappled photos of birds and butterflies.

After we finish exploring the bird sanctuary, we enter Iguaçu National Park, a United National Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) Heritage site, and hop on a bus through the jungle to the beginning of the trail along the edge of the river.

From the Brazilian side, you are at a distance from the falls, but you can get an over-view of their breath and scope that you miss when you are in Argentina.

And the expanse of the falls blows my mind. With every turn on the path, a new set of falls appears. Each one seems taller or wider or more beautiful or more serene than the next.

There is no way to show the power, the rage, the noise and the beauty through a photograph. But here are a selection of photos from the many different look-outs along the trail. Just imagine these photos and then extrapolate a thousand times and that is what they truly look like.

And the trail keeps winding, and the look-outs keep coming and the falls just keep going… and going… and going!

The day dawns in town of Foz Do Iguazu on the Brazilian side of the falls. But before we head off to see the falls, we decide to spend the morning at the largest bid sanctuary in South America. Birds galore and too many photos… I drove Tom crazy with my constant click, click, clicking.

How does she know?

How in the world does our little dog know we are about to leave her? Is it the suitcase by the door? The bustle of packing? Printing of tickets? Or does she now speak English fluently?

Whatever the reason, one look at her through the window says it all. “You are leaving me!!” I am sorry Fuji. I really am.

But Tom and I are headed to five nights at Iguazu Falls on the Brazilian / Argentinean boarder!!

Upon seeing the tropical location and the sheer beauty of the falls, Eleanor Roosevelt famously declared “Poor Niagara.” Quite right she was too, as Iguazu’s falls are four times the width of Niagara and taller as well.

And for that I am not sorry at all…

We drive down a long, winding dirt road, surrounded by the soaring trunks of pine trees to the docks. Anchored there are bright green and yellow boats waiting to ferry us across Florianopolis’ lagoon to a small fishing village, Costa Da Lagoa, that is reachable only by boat or by a two-hour hike.

The village winds up a hillside, bracketed by the brackish lagoon and the woods creeping up the steep slope. The houses pop with color and fresh laundry dances on lines. Broken gates, mossy steps, cracked windowpanes sit near huge satellite dishes, bringing the world into this marooned, isolated place.

Tom and I marvel that a place like this still exists, an entire community located on a bustling and upscale island, that roads and cars have yet to reach. It is a vibrant oasis of the island's past.

Looks like someone has got herself a new beau...