There’s nothing in the world quite like this.
Sure, Niagara pumps more water. For that matter, Victoria is wider, in the way these things are measured. By any measure, Venezuela’s Angel Falls is a lot higher.
But Iguassu is 275 waterfalls, exploding side by side in a tropical frenzy over miles of cliffs. Some of those waterfalls are trickles. Most are not. Most make Hawaii’s Rainbow Falls look like drool.
Eunice Grier, who does statistical research outside Washington when she isn’t wandering around exotic places, was trying to explain to a local, stat-free, the wonder of Niagara Falls.
“They’re spectacular,” she said. “But this dwarfs Niagara Falls.”
Which, if you’ve been there but haven’t been here, is hard to believe.
Believe it.
The first clue Iguassu Falls isn’t Niagara was when Brazil, on arrival, looked nothing at all like Buffalo.
On the other hand, Niagara (which, like Iguassu, spills over two countries) is spelled exactly the same in American as it is in Canadian; the Argentines (Iguazu) and Brazilians (Iguacu) can’t agree on one version, which is especially interesting because the word is neither Spanish nor Portuguese but Guarani.
Long before those indigenous residents began trading their young women to the Spanish for guns (a quaint early custom that quickly faded), they had named this place with a word that means “big water.”
Brazil, by the way, spells itself “Brasil.”
The English spelling for the falls is Iguassu. In the interest not of xenophobia but of neutrality, we’ll go with the English.
The Brazil-Argentine border is defined down here by the Iguassu River. Four of the falls fall from the Brazil side; the other 271 are in Argentina.
My introduction to Iguassu Falls was a small portion of the Argentine falls visible through my hotel window on the Brazilian side. The sight was pretty enough, in a disconnected sort of way. The window was long ago reinforced to shut out the wadda-wadda-wadda of a tour helicopter that used to land and take off from the hotel lawn every couple of minutes. That operation was relocated last year (10 minutes in the air, $60, if you’re interested), but the legacy is that the only sound capable of penetrating the glass is the occasional flatulence of a tour bus.
A wisp of silent waterfall seen through glass is not the stuff of awe.
So I took a walk. Steps from the lobby of the Tropical Das Cataratas Hotel I found 1) a paved trail parallel to the river, 2) the faint hum of rushing water and 3) humidity that would choke a Houstoner. I endured the humidity and followed the path and the sound.
From time to time, this path through Brazilian jungle — shared by the occasional foraging coati (a streamlined cousin of our suburban raccoon) — would lead to a designated viewpoint. And from those viewpoints I could see and distantly hear, live from Argentina, a marvelous, almost endless tiara of waterfalls.
They were splendid. It wasn’t their height (officially about 230 feet, just 48 feet higher than Niagara) that was so terrific, nor the power, which from a half-mile or so away still had to be assumed. It was that there were so damn many of them, all across the horizon, creating a panorama of falling water far too wide for anyone’s point-and-shoot panoramics.
Africa’s Victoria Falls, at about 5,600 feet are listed as the widest, but that’s a technicality; the series of individual but nearly connected cataracts that comprise Iguassu is double that.
The path continued, then veered downward toward the river. A lizard the size of a chihuahua crossed quickly, and a few feet farther on, a hiker was stroking a coati that, it appeared, was not enjoying being molested but was very interested in the guy’s can of Coke.
I kept walking. The sound of water, which had been a wet tease up to now, was getting progressively louder. And when the path made a turn…
Iguassu’s waterfalls have names, many of them. This was Floriano. Big waterfall. On my side of the river. And Floriano roared.
A left turn, and the path became a stone catwalk extending like a pier over the heart of the shallow Iguassu River, then curled through an increasing mist toward a curved wall of more thundering water.
This was the Gargenta del Diablo. The Devil’s Throat. The catwalk had widened into a deck, in the gullet of the Devil’s Throat. Here, dozens of people, glistening from the spray, stood and absorbed both that and the majesty of Gargenta del Diablo.
No longer were we talking about water’s power in the abstract. This was it.
Surging, relentless, deafening.
The ultimate IMAX moment, but real.
If Iguassu Falls were nothing more, this would be one of the world’s real good sights.
But there was this, and on the other side there would be the Two Sisters and Adam and Eve and the Three Musketeers and Belgrano and Escondido and, and . . .
“Folks, I am not going to tell you the names of all 275,” said Nuxa Areias. Areias was our guide the next day on a tour of the Argentine side. “They say from Brazil, you see the falls, and from Argentina, you feel the falls,” she said. “You have to visit both sides. One is not enough.”
The drive from the hotel on the Brazilian side to the visitor center on the Argentine side — the side where we were to feel the falls — is roughly 30 miles. From a bridge, we could see the Parana River and into Paraguay; Nuxa Areias ordered the bus to stop so we could photograph Paraguay. There were 10 tourists on the bus; not one photographed Paraguay.
The bus drove on, past five or six buildings that looked like bombed-out shells. Nine years ago, when investors were pouring money into poured concrete in Argentina, there was to be a string of new first-class hotels here. The economic mood and the exchange rate changed. Incomplete gray pillboxes remain, the jungle closing in.
“They will never finish,” Areias said.
The bus drove on. Three movies were filmed at Iguassu Falls, she said. “Moonraker,” the Bond movie. There were some nods. “The Mission,” with Robert DeNiro, Jeremy Irons, Liam Neeson and a haunting soundtrack. Eight of the 10 hadn’t seen it. “When you get home, please — you have to rent that video,” Areias said.
And most recently, “Mr. Magoo.”
The Iguassu River is nearly 2 miles wide where it pours — as waterfalls –into the drop created by a fault millions of years ago. Above the chasm the river is shallow, 10 feet deep or less, and rocky, and that’s where our guide had brought us.
Once, a long stone bridge carried visitors from the bank in Argentina well into the river on this upper ledge, but a succession of storms wrecked the walkway; today, boats carry tourists to the center of the river and leave them off at a remnant of that bridge, which brings them farther into the Iguassu.
Areias led us to those boats, which ferried us to the mid-river footbridge. The group walked up the bridge together, but at first there was no clue what we were walking toward. Then on the right side of the bridge, there was churning white water, a half-falls, half-rapids dip. A hint.
We kept walking, and there was more noise and more mist — and then we saw where we were.
We were on top of the Devil’s Throat. On top of this waterfall. More thunder.
Back on the riverbank along the Argentine side, there would be two more hikes, each less than a mile, both largely on metal-mesh bridges: The upper trail would take us atop more waterfalls; the lower would take us alongside them. Areias told us the falls’ names, some of them. A waterfall that meant something specific was called Bozzetti, after an explorer. It was the fall that shared the screen with DeNiro and Liam Neeson at climactic moments, the fall that must send us to our neighborhood Blockbuster.
Not far was a waterfall called San Martin. That one shouldn’t need a movie to be remembered. It is a mammoth, violent waterfall. But in time it will blend with the others and be part of the greater memory.
For the magic of Iguassu Falls is the entirety of it all, the enormity.
That’s why the first view, from the hotel window, was a dud.
And why from now on, Niagara is just a nice little waterfall near Buffalo.
IF YOU GO
GETTING THERE
Most foreign visitors come to Iguassu Falls on two- or three-day packages, many linked to cruise ships that work the South American coast from Buenos Aires to Santiago, Chile. For independent travelers, flights from Buenos Aires (Aerolineas Argentina and LAPA) and Rio De Janeiro (Varig) are frequent and fast (about 90 minutes from either city). Prices vary by time of day, season and advance purchase time, but expect to pay about $350-$375 round trip, including taxes. Buses do it cheaper (about $40 each way, more if you want reclining seats) but take at least 16 hours; driving, despite good roads, is still a two-day effort, and truck traffic can get unpleasant.
LODGING
Packagers prefer the two hotels with waterfall views: the Tropical Das Cataratas on the Brazil side and the Sheraton Internacional Iguazu Resort on the Argentina side. The Brazil hotel is pink, cute, has a nice pool and feels older than its 42 years, a mixed blessing. The Sheraton (1978), formerly the Internacional Cataratas de Iguazu, has a smaller pool but better rooms and better views, and should be lots better when renovations are completed, projected for May. Expect to pay about $175-$200 and up nightly (with taxes, breakfast included) at either, but demand or lack of it can do funny things to the rates. Additional hotels are available in nearby Foz do Iguacu (Brazil), Puerto Iguazu (Argentina) and on connector roads to the national park.
GETTING AROUND
Paved trails to the waterfalls on the respective sides are an easy walk from the two falls-view hotels — but the 40-minute drive from one country’s trails to the other’s and back can run $80 by taxi. That makes the standard $40 half-day tour to the “other” side (transportation and guide included) an inviting alternative. Another alternative is to hire a car and driver for three hours at $50 or $60 (negotiable), which provides enough time to get there, hike the trails and get back. And there are local buses — but it takes three buses, two hours and about $10 to complete the journey in each direction. Some hotels rent bikes. But overall, tours are reasonable and make financial sense.
ACCESSIBILITY
Many of the main paved or metal walkways on both sides of the river can accommodate wheelchairs, though inclines can be a challenge. Of the two falls-view hotels, the Sheraton is the clear choice for disabled travelers.
SIDE TRIPS
Itaipu Dam, which will be the largest in the world for at least a few more years until China’s is operational, is just up the Parana River for those whose idea of fun is hydroelectricity. That’s a half-day tour. A jungle walk along the Macuco Trail (near the park’s information station and the Sheraton on the Argentina side) is free and offers a chance to see monkeys, toucans and butterflies as big as your hand. A visit to Cuidad del Este offers some shopping opportunities and a chance to tell friends you were in Paraguay. And exploring the ruins of the Jesuit mission at San Ignacio–the largest in what is Argentina’s Mision province — represents a full-day outing.
INFORMATION
The Brazilian (312-464-0244) and Argentine (312-819-2620) Consulates in Chicago have limited tourist materials but can help with technical matters. For general information on Brazil, try Brazil Tourism at 800-544-5503; for Argentina, contact the Argentina Government Tourist Office in New York at 212-603-0443. There are dozens of Web pages with information on all waterfalls, including Iguassu.
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Alan Solomon’s email address is alsolly@aol.com.
