The Magnificence of Iguazu Falls
But no matter from where and how you experience Iguazú Falls, God and Nature will humble you yet again.
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But no matter from where and how you experience Iguazú Falls, God and Nature will humble you yet again.
Iguazú Falls has Spanish and Portuguese names, Cataratas del Iguazú and Foz do Iguaçu respectively, because Argentina and Brazil co-own the waterfalls that straddle both countries.
Iguazú Falls is just in a league of its own.
COATI
ANNA’S Eighty Eight.
A lifeless body strapped to a wooden cross, arms flung in implied surrender, is released to the river by a band of Guarani natives. The waterway takes hold of the human flotsam and heaves it downstream, churning water as it gathers speed and power. Driftwood and passenger ride the river currents up until the edge where they free-fall into a deep, white chasm and are completely swallowed by violent water into nothingness. It is the opening sequence of the acclaimed 1986 film The Mission. The scene is powerful, showcasing the might and grandeur of an enduring South American icon.
Robert de Niro and Jeremy Irons headlined the bill, ably supported by notables Aidan Quinn and Liam Neeson. But the unheralded star of the show — the Iguazú Falls — certainly made its mark although its name did not appear in the credits. Throughout the film, while absorbed by the gripping tale, I anticipated the cataracts’ next appearance onscreen. Unmistakably amazed, I added another place to my list.
Iguazú Falls has Spanish and Portuguese names, Cataratas del Iguazú and Foz do Iguaçu, respectively, because Argentina and Brazil co-own the waterfalls that straddle both countries. In line with the long-standing rivalry between these two South American giants, all visitors are inevitably dragged into another unresolved debate. The question of “Which side is best to view the falls” is as vehemently disputed as “Who is the better football player — Pele or Maradona?”
Iguazú comes from the Guarani term “great water.” Yet even “great” seems like a gross underestimation of Iguazú and does not even come close. Eleanor Roosevelt was reportedly overheard lamenting “Poor Niagara” upon laying eyes on the waterfalls. With my first glimpse of this natural wonder, I understood her sentiment. Niagara Falls, breathtaking and impressive in its own right, suddenly appeared second-rate and ordinary. It is no knock on the former; Iguazú Falls is just in a league of its own.
Twice the height and four times as wide as Niagara, Iguazú Falls consist of over 275 cascading walls of water spanning a three-kilometer edge, the most prominent and dramatic of which is the horseshoe-shaped Garganta del Diablo (Devil’s throat) at the far-end of the stretch. The air is constantly perforated with resounding booms and columns of vapour and mist hover above the gorge from the impact of water, flowing at an average 1,746 m3/s, and plunging down 80 meters with inconceivable and unrestrained force.
It is not just the confounding dimensions that further the comparison. Unlike Niagara which is subject to the coldness and dampness of dour North American conditions and to its short distance to urban sprawls, Iguazú Falls is situated in a sub-tropical setting, enclosed by a lush rainforest hosting an extensive range of flora and fauna — 80 mammal classes, 2,000 species of plant and over 450 kinds of birds and innumerable bugs and insects. Sightings of snakes or wildcats along the trails and jungles are not uncommon.
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Early in the spring morning of my first day in the area, I crossed over to Brazil from Argentina without any complications. After clearing Immigration, I went straight to the protected National Iguaçu Park, one of the largest preserved ecosystems in South America, where I followed a walkway through a subtropical forest along a canyon running parallel with the river and the falls on the opposite rim.
Following the 1.2-kilometer walk-way, apart from flora and fauna, the whole extent of the falls could be seen, thundering down in numerous cascades of varying sizes, some dropping down to several layers but eventually leading to a glorious finale — towards the end, the path extended out to the river, almost under the Devil’s Throat. Water moved under the railings below my feet. Rainbows were ever-present, materializing regularly with so much water in the air forming prisms reflecting and refracting light.
From the Brazilian side, the falls were seen in its totality, a panorama of unrelenting flow. There, I established scale; and once I was through grappling with the magnitude that defied the imagination, I was awed into silence, filled with wonder.
On the Argentinean side, several walkways and catwalks provided views of the cataracts up close from above, from the side and from all angles possible. An ecologically-friendly train system brought me to the starting points of each of the different trails, including the not-to- be-missed Paseo Garganta del Diablo, the kilometer-long catwalk that took me over the rushing waters of the channel, and directly above the Devil’s Throat drop.
I felt like I had followed the river’s journey to its ultimate tumble. At close proximity to the falls, all senses were engaged. I felt the wind’s not so gentle stroke on the back of my neck and arms more than I heard it, the sound of gushing water dominating. My face was spotty with droplets from continuous spray. The scenery demands absolute involvement. At the viewing deck of the catwalk at the verge, you feel the unmistakable power of the falls.
My final activity involved riding a truck through a thick rainforest inhabited by Macaws and Toucans, in the direction of a riverbank two kilometers away, where a boat was waiting to take us for a joyride. Along with other visitors, I disembarked the wagon and strapped myself onto the seat of a motorboat that was quickly filled up by 25 other people. The boat raced upstream, full speed, towards the falls and thrilled us with quick turns, sudden stops and other exhilarating aquatic manoeuvres. But the coup de grace was yet to come. After ensuring our cameras, phones and important belongings were secure inside waterproof bags, the boat crew broke out into jovial laughter and navigated the boat ever so slowly to the base of the falls until we were unsurprisingly subjected to a refreshing bath under the heavy downpour emanating from the periphery above. I was literally immersed in the scenery.
Completely soaked, many kilometres away from my hostel, and without a change of clothes, I wasn’t in any way troubled. I was having the time of my life. These were the moments we live for.
My Brazilian and Argentinean friends have pressed me for an answer to their question, as to whether the falls are better viewed from Brazil or from Argentina. But I have sat on the fence. It’s necessary to experience the cataracts from both sides, from all angles, from near and far, from above and below, to have a complete grasp and appreciation of the majesty of Iguazú. Otherwise, the magnificent experience is severely restricted.
But no matter from where and how you experience Iguazú Falls, God and Nature will humble you yet again.
