Archive for category Iguazu

Amor, South American Style

I’ve learned quite a bit of Dutch over the last few days, a lot about traveling with a companion, what the inside of a “Five Star” hotel and multiple South American hospitals look like (not pretty, but well-staffed), and that the Netherlands is an amazing country, full of natural beauty, world business, bicycles, and rabbits. And that’s all I’m saying, family, sorry.

Iguazu Falls

I left my traveling companion at the bus station this afternoon, as she’s headed for Rio and I’m migrating South for the summer. I’ve got an 18-hour trip back home to Buenos Aires, a four-hour layover there, and then a 24-hour ride down to Bariloche. I am, as always, excited and nervous about things to come, and I expect that the next leg of my trip will be a bit different from the two previous chapters. Bariloche is an alpine city dropped in the middle of a Parque Nacional, and is of course the “Gateway to Patagonia.” I’ll be staying at another HI place, the Marco Polo Bariloche, so that should be a similar experience to the digs in Salta, but I’m only planning on being there for a couple nights before breaking out the water filter and rain gear to head into the woods.

Point One:

You hear from fellow travelers and esteemed guidebooks that Buenos Aires is quite a bit different from the rest of Argentina and South America, but it’s not apparent until you actually leave the city. I feel not as if I’ve changed cities or regions or even countries, but like I’m on a different continent, even though I’m still hanging out in Argentina’s touristy bits. Buenos Aires is a small, depressed (financially and spiritually) Western European country transplanted into the midst of Latin America, and the rest of Latin America doesn’t take much notice.

Point Two:

Again, I’m carrying way too much crap around. Any suggestions on what to give/throw away? I’ve already ditched every book I’ve read (and one I haven’t, that cost 80 pesos but was a bit [figuratively and literally] heavy), but I’m otherwise at a loss for how to lighten my load. It’s fine for now, traveling by Micro and walking a kilometer or to with the monster strapped to my shoulders, but I’m a little wary of tackling any major distances on trail with what seems like a 14-year old on my back. I may just have to constantly leave a bag in my last hostel’s luggage room and retrieve it after every hike. I’ll think about it and ask fellow travelers for suggestions, but feel free to tell me those things that I absolutely don’t need.

Point Three:

I’m not sure if I’ve yet described the emotional roller coaster that has been my life for the last few months, but if not, imagine an amusement park attraction in which you ride in a small wheeled cart on tracks built with scaffolding into hills and valleys. And that cart is my sense of well-being over the last 10 weeks or so. There are many more peaks than valleys, but when they do come, the valleys are pretty dark and terrifying. And the peaks are, well, exhilirating, and I feel like I’m waking up from a nap that I didn’t realize I’d been taking. Things are good, and fun, and scary, and I am very confident that I’ve made a good decision for this point in my life. The future is a bit hazy for yours truly, but I also feel like I’m somehow doing right by myself.

Can I put that on my resume?

Your man in Amsterdam,

Delaney

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After the Falls

The Hostel Inn in Puerto Iguazu:

Hostel Inn Iguazu

I took a Cama Ejecutivo (I’m 30 years old, I deserve to travel in a little style) to Iguazu with Astrid where we found ourselves at the poshest hostel in the world. The Hostel Inn was recommended to me by a few people over the last couple months, and I’m positive that I’ll recommend it to people for the rest of my stay in South America. I’ve never been to a proper resort (the closest I’ve come is that Borscht-Belt place for Kristyn’s wedding), but I’m pretty sure that this place counts as one. Great food, cool pool, fantastic atmosphere and responsible, organized staff. Even our roommates, Blerg and Bjorn the Finnish and Mr. Cool the South African were great guys. And they had ridiculously high-pressure hot water showers.

And then, the falls. Right now I’m not exactly sure what to say about Iguazu Falls. I’ve run into a few people that have already made the trek up here and of course, everyone has said amazing things about it. And it’s all true. One thing that I can say is that while standing over one of the falls and watching a hundred thousand million billion square miles of water rushing down a light-year-tall cliff below me at twelve hundred thousand miles per hour, I said, “this truly is one of the seven wonders of the world.” And I absolutely believed it. You should go there.

Iguazu Falls

And! We took an out-of-control, most definitely life-endangering dinghy ride into the bottom of the falls while a tropical depression raged around us, blowing trees over all around the park and cutting power to most of the surrounding area. I whooped and hollered and yelled my face off while trying to take horrible photos and I couldn’t stop smiling for, well, even now. I learned after we got done with the Gran Aventura that we were on the one and only boat of the day, and that the pilots reported back that it was stupid and foolhardy to take Germans and Americans and the Dutch out in weather like that, that surely someone would die. Yet, happily, I survived.

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