The taxi to the national airport in BA was less manic than usual – the taxi from one hostel to the other had me stamping on my invisible brake a few times – and the flight left on time and without fuss. On arrival in Iguacu we left the airport to find that the heat in Colonia and BA and Montevideo had just been a warm-up act, as it were, and we were now getting closer to the big leagues. It felt stifling to me, but anyone we spoke to felt it was just a very nice day. Google reported it later to be about 31C.
Machine Gun has outdone himself with the hostel this time – not only does it have a swimming pool of decent size but the room has air conditioning, which is the first time I have had that particular amenity outside the two boats. It’s located on the edge of Puerta Iguazu but the town is small and so the centre is less than ten minutes away. There is a building out the front which seem to have two purposes: to house the fridge in which they keep the beer, and to be a home for a very large stereo which they keep pumping until 11pm or so. There’s a very pleasant atmosphere around, and it as one of the best places I have stayed.
The helpful girl who works at reception explained how we should get to the national park and the waterfalls tomorrow, and for the following day we are going to tour the Brazilian side of the falls – they are split between there and Argentina – and also drop briefly into Paraguay, if all goes to plan. So we have a splendid itinerary to look forward to. She also offered us four hours of activities today, which would have involved rappelling and sliding though the jungle canopy on a wire and that sort of thing, but tempting as it was we needed something to eat and so we declined.
The town is arranged around a few main streets and a significant hill, and its most striking feature is the heat. ‘Baking’ is really the easiest way to describe it, albeit not very inventive. We struck out for a point where you can see Paraguay, Brazil and Argentina all at the same time, split by the two rivers which mark the borders, and though it was probably little more than a mile to walk there, it felt like an expedition. When we got back I lay down on the bed and slept for over an hour, and even I-need-no-sleep Mike ‘rested his eyes’, as he sometimes puts it.
I went for a swim and then we ventured out for a late dinner. The first place we tried was full but the second was almost empty. Yet again steak was up for discussion, and this was one was more in the 8.8 region. I have often had as good and occasionally had better in Dublin.
In recognition of another early start ahead, we were tucked up in good time, with the hum of the air conditioner providing gentle background sound.
