Cataratas do Iguasu, and Day 1 in Argentina

Foz do Iguasu - our last stop in Brasil. It made us a little sad to be ending the first month of our travel and leaving Brasil where we had been treated to so many good things. We were sad to be leaving the food and great company of Sao Paulo, the lush sights and sounds of Salvador, the vast expanses of Amazonia and Lencois Maranhenses and the history and sadness of Ouro Preto. But all the same we were more than excited about the famed falls and our upcoming Argentine sojourn. We left Salvador on the same taxi as a German couple ending a ten month trip to Latin America and flew to Foz.

We stayed at the neat, clean (although our room was tiny) Hostel Bambu. We were led to it by a Brasilian tourist from Recife who was just returning from a visit Europe and oddly enough got cheap tickets in and out of Foz. Previously having lived around the area for a number of years, oddly enough he had not seen the falls. He informed us that in a one month trip to Europe he had taken nine thousand photos (oddly enough - thought we because we conservatively calculated that he took a photo every 3 minutes assuming he slept for 7 hours a day and showered/ate for an hour a day.) For the purposes of this blog we name him - Oddly Enough. But he led us the right way and we plonked ourselves down in the Hostel and had a terrible pizza for lunch which quickly made us run to the supermercado for supplies for dinner.

At our dinner cookout, we made the acquaintance of a number of engaging travellers. A. an Italian girl living in London, S. an Australian of Italian origin and J. a Kiwi working in Canada for a couple of months. We even bumped into S. again later in our journey. Of course we were kept oddly entertained by Oddly Enough.

The following day was reserved for two things - the Brasilian side of the falls and a bird park just outside the national park. We didn't intend to be at the bird park for long but it was engaging and held us there for the entire morning. Hard to see in the wild unless you have plenty of time - they had a number of birds from around Latin America including toucans, macaws, parrots, cranes, geese and flamingoes among others. They have recreated a number of environments found around the continent - rainforests, wetlands, savanna - and visitors can walk through a variety of them and see the birds up close. At the end of course, you can get a picture with a macaw on your arm!

The afternoon was spent at the main event - the falls themselves. Needless to say they are stunning. As any guidebook will tell you, the Brasilian side gives you a good overview of the falls while the Argentine side lets you get up close and intimate. Vast torrents of water gush down the numerous falls. We walked down a trail and a series of pasarelas (walkways) - past the initial section of the falls from where we could see the Argentine side and the initial section of the falls, past a small island (Isla San Martin) in the middle of the river, watched a speedboat from the Argentine side ferry thrill-seekers to be almost under some of the falls and finally reached the roaring savagery of the Garganta do Diabo (The Devil's Throat.) Probably the most famous section of the falls, this spectacle is not even visible from a distance since it is hidden behind a layer of spray and mist, one can only hear an awesome roar. The Brasilian side has a walkway constructed right to the edge of the Garganta which goes past a huge sheet of a fall and leaves you near the middle of the Garganta. Wet and cold, we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves and were suitably awestruck and amazed. We spent hours staring at the falls from all sorts of angles and places and just couldn't get enough. To be cliched but right, words certainly cannot do justice to the falls and they have to be experienced. There's not much we can write to describe the waterfall with the second highest flow rate in the world plunging down a peak height of 82 m split into 275 different cataracts. We hope some of our pictures will entice you enough to go yourself.

Our last half day in Brasil was spent at the massive (second largest in the world) Itaipu dam - a joint project of Paraguay and Brasil. We took a brief tour around the outside of the dam and the magnitude is striking. The project is second only to China's Three Gorges Dam and it has a maximum generation capability of 14 GW. The energy generated is split evenly to Brasil and Paraguay although Paraguay then sells most of what it receives back to Brasil. Itaipu supplies about 25% of Brasil's energy needs and about 80% of Paraguay's. It is one of the most efficient power generators in terms of MW/sq km flooded area. It has a flooded area of 1350 sq km (220 m deep) and swallowed up a set of waterfalls called the Sete Quedas - apparently even more spectacular than Iguasu. Whichever side you fall on in the mega-dam debate, Itaipu is impressive. Finally, back in Foz, we boarded a bus for Puerto Iguazu and made our way out of Brasil.

The entry into Argentina was smooth, although we had to wait a while for another bus from the same company to show up and take us from the Argentine check-point into town. The hostel we'd originally emailed wasn't that great, so we took a dorm in the Peter Pan Hostel and shared our room with 4 Spaniards, one of whom (J.) we bumped into again in Bariloche and El Calafate and expect to meet again in BA!

On the first night itself we found that just across the border, in Argentina, things seemed different. There was a more laid-back feel to the place instead of a great crush of people and things seemed like they'd been around for a while where in Brasil much of the construction and development feels and is new. Argentina feels old money. Maybe it was more than a little psychological but it felt safer too. The fruit and vegetables were immediately more expensive and much less in variety. The wine was cheaper though and there was a wide range of pasta and pizza available everywhere. Our first breakfast of toast, jam, caramel (dulce de leche - ubiquitous everywhere in Argentina) and a bad glazed croissant was disappointing after the big spreads in Brasil. Fruits were not as easily available even though Foz is less than an hour away. No more mangoes *sniff*

The first night we cooked again and at that time, made the acquaintance of three Argentine amigos - L., M. and G. who were having an asado (barbeque) in the hostel's grill by the kitchen. They cooked up an extremely impressive quantity of meat and consumed most of it with bread and cheese. There was not a vegetable or fruit in sight. We struck up a lively albeit somewhat one-sided (from both sides) conversation since only one of them (G.) spoke limited English and our Spanish is certainly nothing to write home about. They were from near Mar Del Plata and were driving around Argentina racing their restored old car. M. was an agricultural engineer, G. worked on automotive electrical stuff and L. was an entrepreneur who had a company which dug ground water wells. They offered us and it was the first time we tried Fernet (with Coca-Cola) and Gancia (with Sprite), two drinks which are very popular around the country - we like Fernet! L. also gave MF Tree a gift - a bright and shiny "tree-of-life" which is made of semi-precious stones. We've been toting it around all over! All in all it was a fun night.

They next day was devoted to the Argentine side of the falls. On this side you can get really up close to the falls. You walk over, under and next to a number of the falls and you can even stand right on top of the Garganta del Diabo and see its roaring torrent below you. We started off on the Sendero Macuco - a nature trail leading to a small waterfall where you can bathe, but got a little bored with the walk so headed back and towards the main falls. We probably took pictures about every five feet along the walkways and got a thorough fill of the falls.

The Quest for a Limpo

We first noticed one in Cafe Alquimia where we had a drink before Bale Folclorico and then we saw one in our hostel and then we saw more all around the city. Floating, dreamy characters carrying the world in a bucket or a paintbrush or flowers. Many walls in Salvador carry the mark of the graffiti artist known as Limpo and we were quite taken with his work.

We decided to try and see if we could get a piece. We trudged around a number of galleries asking if anyone knew about an available Limpo which was small enough for us to carry. It seemed no one had any, since he's on the rise in the art market and lives in Europe. But we asked and asked till we found one gallery which had a small enough piece and for a small enough price. After much mulling and about 2 hours before we left Salvador we decided that we wanted it! But alas, the owner was (slightly) clueless about how we could take it with us and did not possess a box or case in which to carry it. She initially offered to roll up the painting (oil on canvas!) and send it with us, but we insisted on a hard shell case to carry it and in the course of trying to find one we fortunately we spoke to another gallery owner who immediately said NO - that rolling it would damage the painting. Unfortunately then, with only a couple of hours left there was no way we could get a box and in any case it would be a headache to lug it around with us for a month in Argentina.

But we do have the gallery's email address and may still get it shipped. So if you visit us, you might get to see a Limpo in India!

An Amusing Cast of Characters

Through our trip we've met plenty of interesting, warm and friendly people. Some local residents, some international travellers like ourselves and some domestic travellers who have been charming and helpful. But we have had our share of oddballs too. Two of them stick out.

When we were staying in Amazonia, our very helpful Pousada-owner introduced us to a Catholic, priest, yoga teacher and spiritual-guide of Indian (i.e. from our homeland!) origin so that he could help communicate with us in English since she spoke none at all. Well we did get that, but oh so much more! We had gone there after a trip to the airport chasing our delayed bags and were encountered with a wall of Portuguese so we were not sure the bags were really there. He assured us that our bags had arrived and were with the airline and then invited us to have some coffee before we left on our way to Alter do Chao. From the discussion, we gleaned that he had arrived here quite a few years ago, sent by the church to study and work in Brasil and now functioned as a spiritual advisor, free psychological counselor - by his own account, much in need since Brasil is a country of loose morals and sexual values hence there are many "problems." When he learned we were not married he nodded sagely and said "Ah yes, nowadays in India also they have that, boyfriend-girlfriend." Again by his own description, he also acts as a general administrator working with the government who knew everyone there is to be known including Lula himself! ("He is known to us" is a phrase we won't forget in a hurry.) What was his means of sustenance - he, erm, "collaborated" with the people of the town and had formed an "association." The "association" was so fond of him, it didn't even go on holidays without letting him be in peace and "forced" him to come along. To be fair, he kindly took us on a quick tour of Santarem around the docks at which point he was called by a friend and "association" member who called us over for some juice at her house. Since a good suco is not to be turned down, we went along and were treated to fresh orange juice and a delectable creme de maracuja! His friend turned out to be the wife of a big-shot doctor in Santarem and lived in a huge, secure house with a splendidly laid out garden. It turned out to be an unintentionally amusing afternoon and we even forgot about our baggage delay for a while.

An even stranger incident occurred at the Santarem airport where we spent most of the night before our flight to Sao Luis. I had gone to the information desk to inquire about whether there was Wi-Fi available at the airport and was greeted and answered by a wiry young man who said that we'd have to pay to get access. I said thanks and started to walk away when he engaged me in a brief discussion. He started off by asking me where I was from, which I politely answered but then he quickly moved on to whether I knew about Jesus Christ. I said well, what's there to know? But he insisted so I obliged and said he's supposed to be the son of God and apparently the product of the immaculate conception of Mary. Strangely - for an airport information desk employee - he asked whether I believed that was true and whether I believed in the Lord. A little bit puzzled and annoyed I said no, I don't particularly believe in any Lord of any sort to deflect any further line of attack. But undeterred he marched on and informed me that at some point I would come around and believe and in fact that happened to everyone, everyone eventually comes to believe. All of this, by the way, in perfect English. I thanked him for the information and made my getaway. We've chalked down Santarem as being a bit on the nutty side!

A Long Bus Ride

From Sao Luis, we decided to take our first really long bus-ride to get to Salvador. It was going to be more than 24 hours. We even tried to plan breaking our trip by first going east to Recife and then continuing down south to Salvador, but on further inquiry, we found out that it wouldn't make a difference. Both towns - Recife and Salvador - were about the same distance from Sao Luis so we would in fact be lengthening the journey.

We made inquiries at the bus station and our so-far favourite bus-station attendant (in the Itapemerim booth in Sao Luis) informed us with a finger-wagging, head-nodding sing-song that there was a bus to Feira-de-Santana, which was about an hour from Salvador but not to all the way to Salvador. That bus actually continued a further day, going all the way to Rio. We decided to take the plunge and go 27 hours to Salvador, there didn't seem to be much that was attractive along the way. In the usual course of things it wouldn't really be much of an issue - we have both been on plenty of long train journeys, say, in India - but for the fact that we were not sure we would have an vegetarian food available at the stops the bus stopped at.

After much fretting we decided to carry all our food with us. We made a whole bunch of jam sandwiches, bought a load of snacks and fruit and were on our way. Finally rid of the decidedly un-lordly Lord Hotel. The landscape was beautiful and the trip mainly uneventful and we even found some food along the way - rice and beans at a per-kilo, self-serve place and some really bad pao de queijo. We made our way first through verdant coastal vegetation of palms and looked like sugarcane country and then wound through the dry interior - the parched and harsh sertao, full of scrub and a few cacti - to finally reach Feira de Santana. Here we hurriedly scrambled into a second bus to Salvador and we were there! We survived!