Upon arrival in Foz do Iguaçu, almost directly from Curitiba, we misjudged the situation. We label it a new meteorological-photographic catastrophe.
It was the end of January, the hottest month in this region of southern Brazil and northern Argentina, known for maximum temperatures that easily exceed 40º.
Instead of the “coconut burning” sun that was to be expected, the region was, for four days, covered by a blanket of dark and heavy clouds that poured continuous squalls, accompanied by strong winds and menacing thunderstorms.
Until something changed, those four days amounted to seven. We took the time to discover Foz (as the locals call it) a city more fascinating than elegant.
The enigmatic and electrifying past of Foz de Iguaçu
The enigmatic and electrifying past of Foz de IguaçuFoz has never stopped developing, in the 18 years of construction of the Itaipu Binational Hydroelectric Power Plant (shared by Brazil and Paraguay) the largest dam in the world until the completion of the Three Gorges Dam, in China.
Of 35.000 inhabitants, in 1973, around the year 2001, it was already home to 256.000. This little sustained growth was also encouraged by the tourist use of the Iguaçu Falls. And not only Brazilians were made.
After World War II, Foz de Iguaçu even welcomed fugitive Nazis. It was the conjunction of the Italian, German, Lebanese, Ukrainian, Argentine and Paraguayan, Chinese and Japanese communities, among other secondary ones, that made it one of the most multicultural cities in the world.
It was reinforced by being located on the Argentine-Brazilian-Paraguay triple-border. This is an area charged with mysticism. From supposed extraterrestrial magnetism that continues to attract religious cults, sects of all kinds and … UFO's.
Not to mention al-Qaeda South American cells, at least relying on the permanent alerts of the Argentine secret services and of Israel.
The Disband of the Cold Front and the Discovery of Overflowing Iguaçu Falls
Like many of the cold fronts that hit the interior of South America in summer, this one also brought successive floods and threatening thunderstorms.
It left the Iguaçu River almost overflowing. It ended up fading against the heat and high pressure of the lower latitudes where we walked.
Finally, the sixth day dawned with a sky sprinkled with white skeins. It gave us the motto we were waiting for to leave Foz de Iguaçu towards the “Great Water”, that is how the Tupi-Guarani indigenous people who have long lived in the tri-border region of the waterfalls got used to calling it.
From the entrance to the Iguaçu National Park, we go straight to its Naipi area. We made a quick elevator ride to the top of the local observation tower and eagerly headed outside.
There we found, for the first time, with the flow of the Iguaçu falling, colossal, brutal, much more powerful than we could ever hope, roaring in such a way that only it could be heard.
Imposing waterfall on the lateral extension of the fall of Devil's Throat.
Álvar Nuñez's Odyssey, “El Cabeza de Vaca” on the Iguaçu Falls Crossing
When confronted with this unique landscape, Alvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca, the stubborn explorer of Jerez de La Fontera will have exclaimed: “Santa Maria, how beautiful!". We share your enthusiasm.
From the top of that supreme terrace, we can appreciate the inflated bed of the Iguaçu crashing onto huge rocks covered with grass, lost in the dense mist caused by the impact of the water and, by comparison, insignificant, the opposite green walls into which numerous secondary falls precipitated. .
Secondary fall, where water and vegetation divide the cliff.
It is known that the fascination of the conqueror was ephemeral. Álvar Núñez was leading a small army that had left the island of Santa Catarina, off the Brazilian coast, to help the now Paraguayan village of Nuestra Señora de Asunción, surrounded by belligerent indigenous people.
Cabeza de Vaca quickly realized that he would have to cross the treacherous gorge that shelters the Iguaçu with all the military paraphernalia it was carrying. And it's more than likely that the opening words of appreciation gave way to the worst swear words he could think of.
The Modernized Iguassu Falls on the Brazilian Side
The ease of exploration today, from the Brazilian bank of the river, is absolute, even somewhat exaggerated.
Back on the ground, complementary structures and platforms allow us unexpected approaches to the open end of the huge Garganta do Diabo and to the base of the green cliffs on the Argentinean side, with a privileged view of the neighboring San Martin Island.
Visitors crowd at the end of a walkway, beside a glittering rainbow.
They are always competitive accesses to true natural showers and, on especially windy days, guarantee soaked returns.
From the Naipi space, we proceed to the Trilha das Cataratas, a shady path that climbs along the lush slope and unveils patches of the deep bed, through the vegetation or from viewpoints that are conquered from it.
The Panoramic Flight of the Greater Iguaçu
Once the possibilities of land and river exploration of the falls on the Brazilian side had been exhausted, we were left with the aerial variant. We didn't take long to experience it, aboard a panoramic helicopter.
The flight is confirmed to be short but intense. It allows us to discover the immensity of the Brazilian and Argentinean jungle. It follows the meandering of the Iguaçu River and its spread in the area surrounding the falls, identifiable as the only clear surface in an endless green area around it.
Aerial view of the Iguaçu River and the Iguaçu Falls.
Afterwards, we will also fly over the falls at low altitude, along the long and deep geological fault that originates them. From there, the muddy water changes from brownish tones to an intense white from which huge columns of mist ascend. Downstream from the falls, this gap, until then somewhat undefined, reveals the impressive dimensions and characteristics that justify the name Garganta do Diabo (Devil's Throat).
In the Baixo Iguaçu area, Argentina is only a few dozen meters from Brazil. With regard to conventional travel, outside the park, the passage from one country to another requires a 23km route from Foz do Iguaçu.
This route crosses the Presidente Tancredo Neves Bridge – painted with the colors of the Argentine and Brazilian flags. After the complex border logistics, it enters the province of Missions along Ruta 12, where it goes to km 5.
Palm trees dominate the Iguaçu Falls, with the island of San Martin in the background.
The falls are unevenly divided between Brazil and Argentina.
The Argentines own most of the flow of the Iguaçu River. On the other hand, the Iguaçu National Park is bigger than the Argentine one. On both sides of the border, wildlife is very rich, including the area of the falls where the easiest animals to spot are the coatis.
In groups, the coatis invade support areas and buildings in search of food that they are used to demanding from tourists. The remaining animals, mainly mammals, are, as a rule, furtive. As it's supposed to, in an environment like all real jungles, it's dense and dark.
The Iguaçu National Park hides dangerous species such as pumas and jaguars. Whenever you doubt your presence, remember that, in 1997, a jaguar (as the Brazilians call it) killed the son of a Brazilian ranger.
The Much More Natural Argentine Side of Iguazu Falls
Right at the entrance to Parque Nacional del Iguazú, we noticed an ecological approach that was much more respectful than the Brazilian one. The strategy (we preferred to believe in intentionality) was to change as little as possible.
Visitors walk along a walkway over the waters of the Iguaçu River.
We come across insignificant wooden reception buildings. From there, we followed a long “avenue” flanked by tall grass from which the three main existing routes branch out into the middle of the jungle: Paseos Inferiores (1.5 km), Paseos Superiores (1.2 km) and the Gorge – now in its Hispanic version – del Diabo.
We advance along a combination of minimal rails, here and there reinforced by suspended iron walkways.
The Paseos Inferiores offer a privileged view of the Two Sisters, Pequeña, Ramirez, Bossetti, Bernabé Méndez, Mbiguá and Adao y Eva falls from their bases.
On the upper circuit, we pass behind these secondary waterfalls in a harsh environment of an even more dense jungle overflown by toucans and which suggests the imminence of the large mottled or black cats – as their melanism dictates – that patrol these places.
A toucan, one of the birds that inhabit the jungle around the river and the Iguaçu falls.
The More than Diabolical Fall of the Garganta del Diablo
We left the incursion to the deadly threshold of the Garganta del Diablo for the end.
To get there, we took a small picturesque train to Puerto Canoas. From there, we walked along the 2200m walkway that crosses a considerable part of the bed of the Iguaçu River, on the outer side of one of the ends of the horseshoe.
We understand how, thanks to the centrifugal force to which the flow is subjected, this vast and marginal section of the bed escapes the wider precipice and feeds the remaining Argentine falls.
The walk takes place above the water, in a scenario removed from illusory calm, enriched by small islets covered with vegetation that further compartmentalize the river.
Onwards, as if everything else were a mere initiation ritual, the walkway opens onto a new observation platform and the roar becomes more deafening than in any other area of the falls.
A few additional steps, we are faced with emptiness. We then unveil how the Iguaçu crashes into the abyss rei (about 150 meters high and 700 meters wide) with such violence that the impact causes a permanent cloud about 30 meters high.
A group of people admire the Devil's Throat from a platform on the Brazilian side of the falls.
And we are dazzled by the comings and goings of countless fearless swallows, on trips to and from their nests hidden in the depths of the cliffs.
More restrained on speed, some boats climb the canyon. They also temporarily disappear into the mist to show passengers the Garganta del Diablo in the most daring way possible, even so, far from the unconscious endeavors carried out in the first half of the XNUMXth century.
In the early tourist days of Iguaçu Falls, due to the lack of walkways and platforms, fearless visitors often hired a rowing boat and an oarsman. This one took them to the limit of the falls and, paddling like a madman against the current, there immobilized the vessel.
Meanwhile, the passengers had fun passing from one side of the boat to the other, taking photos, exchanging impressions and everything that that moment of absolute relaxation inspired them to do.
But any abuse of luck has its limits and the inevitable ended up happening. In 1938, the force of the flow beat the service rower. The maneuvering boat crashed with seven Germans on board. Nobody survived.
Boat full of passengers challenges a drop at the base on Isla San Martin.
These demented challenges to death were banned. Instead boats with powerful engines challenge the bottom of other secondary jumps.
And the exclusivity of the jump returned to the great water of Iguaçu.
Sun sets beyond the Argentine bank of the Iguaçu River.
