While I acknowledge that this detail has absolutely nothing to do with the thunderous waterfalls I smelled, heard, tasted (yes!) and obviously photographed over the weekend at Iguazu, I feel obligated to mention the modern wonder that is the Argentine "micro-bus." (pronounced, meecro buuuus).
We traveled sixteen hours north from BA to the Brazil border for 100 USD (roundtrip)-- feet up, back reclined, blanketed, and pillow'd. The strapping young bus attendent offered us styrofoam cups of warm cafe at one hour intervals and wondered whether we preferred whiskey or champagne after the meal. (i'm fairly sure that the attendent was also the busdriver. Occationally he would disapear into the cabin, presumably to take the bus off of cruise control for a few moments)
The attendent asked mid-evening whether the plastic bag in the overhead compartment was mine. When i shook my head no, he pulled it out and opened it to reveal a large frozen chicken. A large frozen chicken who also happened to be an orphan (all passengers denied ownership). A large frozen chicken that was not likely to remain frozen for the entirety of the sixteen hour trip.
I originally planned to study during the remaining hours of daylight on the meecro, but when oppertunity knocks...
I had the immense privilege of watching MAMA MIA, the movie musical, three inches from my face on the bus' flat screen tv. Who knew that ABBA could translate to spanish with such finesse? Who knew that bus attendants ignore your requests to turn the volume down? MAMA MIA, HERE WE GO AGAIN....but i digress.
Around one a.m, as the sleep drugs began to play through my limbs, swirling me to slumber, I decided that I would one day bring the good word of the meeecro to my homeland and put
the king of mediocrity, Sir Greyhound, out of business.
First class road travel must prevail!
In any case...
Las Cataratas de IguazuI certainly could go on forever with descriptions, but I've posted videos, and pictures, which are far more accurate in their representations. Surely whatever I could write would be riddled with cliches anyway. (read: "thunderous")
Instead, a list-like post of observations from the trip:
Brazilian lizards cross the border without proper identification, are quickly deported,
Jungle, or rainforest, or maybe just forest,
my first star-sighting in Argentina, celestial or otherwise,
Sandwiches don't have crusts anywhere in this country, not even in Iguazu,
oh this civilazation of over-indulged sandwich-eaters,
North, north, still north and mist and liquid and humidity collide, each orgasmic and trembling,
The constant argument over who has the better view,
a decision my VISA will never allow me to come to,
I long to meet you, Brazil,
Water is falling, but these aren't waterfalls, these are forces of nature that spawn other planets, this is hydro-elation
Until this moment, waterfall has been abused and wrongfully applied to every anemic trickle
Falling negates purpose
These are rogue, aquatic monsters who shake the earth (there i go describing..)
Raft ride (see video), Rio de la Plata? i never asked the name, that unnassuming river
the one that coddled us until opening up and allowing us to be drenched
we paid extra to get wet
River water, as opposed to salt water, is Dulce in Spanish,
is it 'sweet' in English?
like Dulce de leche, which i find strange,
we lay in the sun after the hike
by the pool, my skin threatened to match the hue of the guava slices
served at breakfast
Oh the steam, or was it mist? It floated up, or maybe boiled
can cold water boil?
maybe it can, in Brazil.