I cried when I first saw it.
Huddled inside a bouncing raft, we were rounding the bend when Iguazú Falls opened up before us. The waterfall system, divided between Argentina and Brazil, is the largest in the world. Its name “Iguazú” comes from the Guarani or Tupi words meaning “water” and “big.” Straightforward. Accurate. Precisely the only thing on my mind.
How it came to be
The falls split the Iguazú River between its upper and lower half. How did they arise? I like to believe legend, which says that a deity planned to marry a mortal named Naipí. Not interested, Naipí escaped with her lover Tarobá in a canoe. In a fit of rampage, the god sliced the river, creating the waterfalls and damning the lovers to eternally falling… in love? Ouch.
According to the European history books, Spanish conquistador Álvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca first recorded their existence in 1541. I wonder if he cried, too.
How we came to be in front of the falls
When I first moved to Buenos Aires, I made friends with Mackenzie, another woman from the States who also planned to teach English. Neither of us stuck with it, but after our TEFL program, we were bonded together as foreigners in a big city and travel buddies. After a successful trip to Mendoza, we decided to check out these waterfalls we’d been hearing about so much.
We booked our overnight bus tickets through BusBud and settled in for the 20-hour ride. Along the way, we met a woman who highly recommended las Minas de Wanda. I’ve got a few things to say about these mines, but we’ll get back to them in a bit. First, let’s visit town.
Puerto Iguazú
We stayed at Iguazu Falls Hostel — nondescript lodging a few blocks away from the bus station in Puerto Iguazú. We made good use of the hammocks, but the pool was out of commission during our stay. No worries; we spent most of our time beyond the hostel.
The day we arrived, we futzed around the little town and walked the two-mile loop to Hito de Las Tres Fronteras, where Argentina, Brazil and Paraguay meet around two rivers. Cool landmark, but not a must-see (as evidenced by the fact that I didn’t even think to take any pictures). Back at our hostel after a dinner downtown, we booked a tour around the falls for the following day. Now we get to the good stuff.
Iguazú
The following morning, we grabbed a local bus to the park and at the entrance picked up our tickets for the tour, which included a short Jeep ride through the jungle and that fantastic boat ride around the river and eventually underneath the waterfalls.
The park is easy to navigate and includes several different circuits, plus one route along an elevated walkway to la Garganta del Diablo — where water surges and plunges over the cliffside. The display of power is, well, emotionally powerful as well (and not just because I was thinking about Naipí and Tarobá). In moments like that — standing at a site where millions of awestruck others have also been — I often feel the same way: small, connected and beholden to the wonder of nature.
And then, once we’d had our turn staring down the Devil’s Throat, we looped back around, the sound of rushing water fading behind us.
Minas de Wanda
When I’m traveling and someone says I simply have to see something, I believe it. In fact, I usually make a special effort to somehow squeeze that off-the-beaten-path recommendation into my visit.
Such was the case for las Minas de Wanda, a mine in Misiones known for its semi-precious stones. With the site nearly 32 miles outside of Puerto Iguazú, we probably should have considered splurging on a day tour, but we figured we could navigate the local bus system. This, of course, wasn’t as simple as we thought.
After waiting at what we hoped was the right stop, we traveled outside of the city limits and the bus driver left us at the end of a dirt road, instructing us to walk until we found the mines. So we wandered onward, past clustered homes and open fields.
Finally, after about a mile, we came upon tour buses and the mines. We tagged along with a large group and were herded down to the site where Polish settlers in the 1930s first mined for rock crystal, topaz, quartz, jasper and agate. Nowadays, the small-scale mining operation produces jewelry, ornaments and wind chimes made of the stones. The site is modest, and unless you’re wildly interested in semi-precious stones, I wouldn’t suggest making the trip.
On our way back into town, we’d hoped to stop at the GuiraOga, a well-regarded animal sanctuary outside of Puerto Iguazú. Unfortunately, we missed the day’s final tour and weren’t able to check out the birds and monkeys and other rehabilitating wildlife.
Lessons for the next trip: mind the schedules, research strangers’ recommendations and enjoy the ride — boat, bus or otherwise.
