A Perfect Day at Iguazu Falls (Iguazu Falls: Day 1)

Word of the Day: Sublime /səˈblīm/

1. Literature. Of such excellence, grandeur, or beauty as to inspire great admiration or awe.
2. Chemistry. Change directly into vapor when heated, typically forming a solid deposit again on cooling.
3. Archaic. Elevate to a high degree of moral or spiritual purity or excellence.

There is nothing like waking up in the morning next to a world wonder. No, Boyfriend, I am not talking about you (burn!). I obviously spent the entire night not-sleeping since I was waiting for sunrise, and leapt out of bed at the first hint of light. My first impression of the falls at dawn was: steamy. The air was balmy, the sky was streaked with vermilion, toucans careened through the treetops, and Iguazu Falls frothed and thundered in the background of this lush scene. The rainforest was awake and so was I. And so were the monkeys — which are apparently a source of significant concern to locals.

Since this was a very short visit and a bucket list item for me, we figured that the falls-facing rooms at the Sheraton on the Argentinian side would enable us to maximize time spent at the park. Or maybe we just felt fancy and had a good friend that worked for Starwood. Either way, we ate breakfast and set off into the park just as it opened–or so we thought.

One of the things that makes Iguazu Falls so interesting is that it happens to reside near the border of three countries–Argentina, Brazil, and Paraguay and on the edge of two time zones. This makes it notoriously difficult for carriers to resolve where cell phone users are, leading locals to make unintentional international calls and tourists to lose all sense of time. Given that imprecise GPS positioning had tricked our phones into thinking that we were in Brazil and therefore one hour ahead of Argentinian time, we happened to arrive at the park an hour before opening and therefore had the Sendero Superior entirely to ourselves. Not that we knew this at the time.

Ignorant of the fact that we were trespassing, we quickly started towards the roaring sound of the falls by creeping along the metal boardwalk that demarcated the trail. As the sound of the falls grew louder, we picked up our pace. We turned one corner, and then another, and then, all of the sudden, Iguazu Falls was right there in front of us. The trail let out at the topmost edge, all the way to the right of the falls, and the falls were beyond immense. In fact, our perch left us too far zoomed in to see the whole of it, so you had to swing your head around to absorb the full impact.

For an indeterminable amount of time, we gawked at the sublime scene before us–and as an English major, I do not use that word lightly. In the 18th century, Edmund Burke described the sublime as a feeling of fear that results from moments of overpowering beauty in his treatise A Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of our Ideas. In a lecture hall, the concept kind of loses his teeth, but the roaring sound was such that you could feel your heart stutter-stepping and just standing near the edge was thunderous enough to feel as if the water was whisking you along with it. Kind of like that feeling where you are just about to fall asleep and you get that sensation that you’re falling — but all tied up with the relief you feel that you haven’t in fact fallen. All at once, over and over. This was emotion and nature levelling up and somehow the heart and mind weren’t quite ready.

Shortly thereafter, a park ranger helpfully informed us that we were out of sync with time and politely asked us to GTFO since he needed to clear the spiders from the trail prior to opening. After a thorough check of my ponytail to ensure that I hadn’t unintentionally picked up any eight-legged friends on the way in, we quickly retraced our steps and headed to the train stop so that we could catch the first train to Garganta del Diablo. Even as early as we were, the train station was packed to the brim. Instead of waiting for thirty minutes for the next train, we decided to take the short trail up the hill that paralleled the tracks. Not bragging here, but the train barely beat us AND we saw two monkeys, so it was definitely worth it. I would highly recommend that you consider taking the scenic route yourself.

Garganta Del Diablo

Once we hoofed it to the next train stop, we embarked upon the longest metal boardwalk I have ever seen. Since the train had just arrived, there were tons of people, and we all moved forward at a slow but steady pace. This slow but steady pace gave me more time than I would have liked to reflect on how dangerous this boardwalk was–not to mention the fact that the rusted, busted carcass of the old boardwalk paralleled us for some time.

Now, for those of you who probably vaguely caught the devil reference in the name, the phrase Garganta del Diablo roughly translates to “Devil’s Throat.” I personally feel that the name is not truly representative of the power and violence of this place, so I will personally dub it “The Devil’s Maw” from here on out, which has a more impressive sound to it.

At last, when you reach the overlook, you can’t help but to follow the water off the edge, into a gut-wrenching drop, and then lose it in the oblivion of steam. In prosaic words, the rounded rim of the waterfall causes thousands of gallons of water to fall into a hole, producing collisions, which in turn generates a thick and shifting fog that travels upwards. Not sublimation, but vaporization. In your mind, you will try to talk yourself out of the fact that you are at the edge of the world looking into a beautiful white abyss. Birds lurch around on the ever-shifting air wafts, and you will see but not hear helicopters passing overhead.

I hope that you’re not afraid of heights because this experience simply cannot be missed–or even adequately explained. You will need to see this for yourself.

Sendero Superior

Once we returned from The Devil’s Maw, we then set out to complete the Sendero Superior. It sounds super fancy in Spanish, but it actually translates to the “Upper Trail.” And it essentially does just that, winding across the top edge of all the component waterfalls, giving you increasingly-amazing vistas until you can almost see The Devil’s Maw.

From this vista point, you can see Naipi Rock on the Argentinian side and the famous palm tree on the Brazilian side. Legend has it that Naipi, a Guarani princess, tried to elope with her lover Taruba instead of being sacrificed to M’Boi, the Serpent God. Unfortunately, M’Boi caught sight of them trying to escape in a canoe and split the earth. Naipi flew from the canoe to what would become the Argentinian side and was transformed into a rock. Taruba flew to the Brazilian side and became a palm tree. To this day, M’Boi lurks in the Garganta keeping them apart, but rainbows often start at the palm tree and end at the rock, showing that their love still lives and is strong enough to bridge the gulf between them.

While it’s a romantic story, I didn’t see any rainbows that day — so perhaps it is time to schedule a return trip?

Sendero Inferior

In turn, Sendero Inferior sounds like the opposite of what it is — inferior simply means “lower” in Spanish, not “lesser.” This definitely held true as our viewpoint changed from being on top of the world to being a mere mortal measured against the superior size of the elements. And let’s just say that the elements are clearly much more powerful than you are. Observe.

One of the interesting side trips we opted to do (also on the pricier side) was to take a boat ride into the falls to take up-close photos and to get drenched by the falling water. I enjoyed every microsecond of this trip since it was essentially thirty minutes of chaos as water droplets spattered us and otherworldly thunder sounded, as the boat drove us directly under some of the raging waterfalls. However, you do get extremely wet, so it is best to plan your outfit accordingly.

On days where the water level is low (and this was definitely NOT one of those days), you can even catch a boat to the island of San Martin, which is located smack-dab in the center of the falls. As I stared enviously at that island that seemed so close yet so impossibly out of reach, I made a vow to return to this magical place as soon as I possibly could. Because once you experience Iguazu, it is hard to walk away.