Please be sure to read the previous installments of the story before continuing with this one.
Day 31 – July 10, 1991
After precious little sleep (in the wee hours, the band had finally quit playing below us), we packed up. I was fit to be tied, and Johanna was mad because I’d caused us to move out of our quiet, clean, comfortable room into this Brazilian slum. I phoned my friends in Río and told them we wouldn’t be coming to see them after all (I lied and said Johanna was sick). Also, we didn’t relish the idea of a 20-hour ride as a captive audience to smokers on a bus. Our minds were made up – instead of heading east, we’d head west.
A family I had met in Tierra del Fuego 6 months earlier lived in Asunción, Paraguay. They were German, and the husband, Joerg, worked for a German company that offered its services to foreign governments. I don’t recall exactly what he did, but I think it had something to do with forestry. During the intervening months, I had kept in touch with them and they had invited us to visit. Now that we had made a major change of plans, I needed to call them. We called a cab and rode to the bus station (still on the Brazilian side) and found a phone. Joerg was very receptive, and told us to make our way to Asunción right away. I told him we were in Brazil and with any luck we’d be there late in the day.
Then began a comedy of errors. At the bus terminal, they wouldn’t sell me a ticket to Paraguay – I was traveling on a Canadian passport, and they said I’d need a visa from Paraguay in order to buy a ticket. Johanna had a US passport, and for some reason didn’t need a visa to buy a ticket. It took me hours to get a visa from the Paraguayan consulate, as I had to have photos taken and even produce my international vaccination booklet. What a hassle, it was enough to piss off the Pope! Finally, we took a cab to the bus terminal in Ciudad del Este in Paraguay, where we bought 2 tickets to Asunción.
We had traveler’s checks in US dollars, Argentine cash in the form of Australes and even Brazilian cash in the form of Cruzeiros, but no Paraguayan Guaranis. The 5-hour ride was comfortable and relaxing, and we arrived after dark. Joerg picked us up and took us to his home.
Days 32, 33, 34, 35 – July 11-14, 1991
The next 4 full days were spent in the company of friends – Joerg, his wife Ziggi, his son Phillip and his daughter Alexandra. They were renting a large home in one of the finest parts of the city, and had 2 maids. It looked like his job paid very well. We saw much of the city, toured the surrounding countryside, played tourist, but mostly just spent quality time with this very congenial family. I have written in detail of our time spent here in a story on this website under the title “Asunción”, which you might enjoy reading.
Day 36 – July 15, 1991
On this, the last day of our stay in Paraguay, we said goodbye to the kids and Joerg, then Ziggy drove us to the bus terminal. This had been a restful haven after the terrible night we’d spent in Brazil, and now we were ready to carry on and have some fun. We bought tickets for $7 US each, and boarded immediately. The bus was clean and comfortable, the ride was restful. During the 5-hour ride, we stopped briefly in a couple of towns – street vendors were there, hawking their wares. We ate fresh chipas (small, baked, cheese-flavored rolls – delicious!), as well as yogurt, tangerines and cokes. For our traveling entertainment, they showed some goofy French movie subtitled in Spanish. The trip passed very quickly, and before we knew it were back in Ciudad del Este, Paraguay.
In the pouring rain at the bus station, I found a cabbie who agreed, for the sum of $22 US, to take us across the river to Brazil and then to Argentina. We had to clear customs twice as we crossed borders, but that was part of the deal with our driver, no matter how long it took. It wasn’t the few miles, but rather the waits to cross the borders that took the time. Finally we arrived, and I had the cabbie take us right to the Residencial Lilian, the wonderful place we’d stayed before. It was full, so I had him leave us at the Departamento de Turismo.
The town, it turned out, was even fuller than before. They did suggest one place – I walked over, but the one room they’d had was taken just before I arrived. The lady asked her sister-in-law at a nearby shop if she’d let us stay with her. She said yes, so I walked up to her third-floor apartment with her to check it out. it seemed fine, a double bed in one bedroom of her 3-bedroom apartment. She asked $20 US per night, and I jumped on it. I went back to where Johanna was waiting patiently and told her we had a place to stay. A nice guy offered to pile us and our luggage into his pick-up and drive us the few blocks, and wouldn’t accept anything for his help. We moved in to our room, then headed out for some supper at the bus station restaurant. Afterwards, we bought some groceries and walked around in the town. It was a Monday evening, early, yet all the shops were closed. It seemed crazy, the tourists had no place to spend their money. It was raining as we walked back to our room.
Day 37 – July 16, 1991
After a week away from Iguazú, we were back for a fresh start, and looking forward to it. We caught the 10 AM bus to the falls, only as far as the Hotel Internacional. On the lower walk, we took a boat to Isla San Martín, a short ride on this warm day. We walked along a sandy beach, then climbed many stairs through lush vegetation to the top of the island. We leisurely walked the paths and spent time transfixed by the powerful San Martín Falls. As spectacular as it was, it was only one of the 275 separate waterfalls that make up the Cataratas Iguazú. Back to the boat and then over to the mainland, we walked back up hill to the viewing tower. It was worth the effort for the views to be had. Next, we took the upper walk, where you can see the falls from their brink. The spectacle of the falls never grows old.
We caught the bus back into town, early for a change. This was the feast day of the town’s patron saint, so everything was closed all afternoon. Something we’d wanted to do was to see where the 3 countries met. It was close enough that we could walk out to the Monumento de Tres Fronteras. It was pretty cool – all 3 were easily visible from there. The actual spot where the countries touch each other is out in the water, out where the Iguazú and Paraná Rivers meet. We stood in Argentina; to the west across the Paraná River was Paraguay; to the north across the Iguazú River stood Brazil. I can’t say I’d ever been to such a spot before, where 3 countries come together.
There were nearby artisan shops and we purchased nice little souvenirs and gifts for the folks back home. The sun set, and we walked back into town through empty streets – well, almost empty. There was a big crowd by the church, listening to the bishop give a speech – we didn’t stick around, and headed back to our room.
The family with whom we are staying is interesting. The mother and her 2 daughters all speak both Spanish and Portuguese. She said that her daughters learned to speak Portuguese simply by watching the 3 broadcast channels from Foz on the Brazilian side from the time they were infants, as the mother didn’t try to teach them. They also received 2 channels from Argentina and 1 from Paraguay – I’m sure that all of this gave them an interesting perspective on life. We sat and watched a Mexican telenovela with them, dubbed in Portuguese. It had been a long, fun day and it was good to be back at Iguazú.
Day 38 – July 17, 1991
I have a confession to make, although you may have already had a glimpse of what I’m about to tell you. Every day, and every place we went, we were looking at birds. I had become a birder a few years earlier, and couldn’t go anywhere without focusing on them. From the day we landed in Argentina, birds attracted our attention and we tried to identify them. We relied on people who lived in each place to tell us what they were. Sometimes we learned their English names, but usually the Spanish names were offered to us by locals. Rarely, a knowledgeable person might know the Latin name, which of course was the truest measure of the bird, transcending both Spanish and English names. We never stopped looking and asking, and if we couldn’t identify a bird when we saw it, we’d take notes and photos to help us later.
So far on this trip, here is a list of new birds seen:
austral parakeet; lesser rhea; Chilean flamingo; chimango caracara; snowy sheathbill; blue-eyed cormorant; rock cormorant; austral gull; kelp gull; steamer duck; giant petrel; crested caracara; brushland tinamou; great kiskadee; white-winged swallow; Amazon kingfisher; toco toucan; black cacique; black vulture; chestnut-eared aracari; squirrel cuckoo; plush-crested jay; southern lapwing; red-crested finch; epaulet oriole; field flicker; great dusky swift; giant cowbird; golden-crowned warbler; cream-bellied gnatcatcher; buff-fronted foliage gleaner; green-barred woodpecker; glittering-bellied emerald hummingbird; snowy egret; great egret; yellow-fronted woodpecker; Chopi blackbird; rufous hornero; great grebe; brown-hooded gull; monk parakeet; eared dove; cattle tyrant.
The first thing we needed to do today was to call Aerolineas Argentinas to check on our flight, and upon so doing we learned that our flight isn’t until Friday instead of tomorrow (Thursday). Good news, an extra day here. Our plan for today was to focus on birds. We took the bus back to the Hotel Internacional at the falls, then went to the research center for some lunch. All the while, we were looking at birds. I borrowed a field guide for the birds of Argentina and Uruguay and found it to be excellent, so then I wanted to buy one for myself. The hotel wanted $50 for a copy – yikes! A bit later, I was in the park visitor center, and they too had a copy for sale. Theirs was in English, which is what I really wanted – I talked them down to $40.
We birded for hours, then took the bus back into town. We paid Mirta for one more night in her home, then set out for some sightseeing. A side road took us down to the old port along the Iguazú River, which sits some distance below the falls – a pretty spot. We then walked back to the Tres Fronteras viewpoint with its tourist shops – we spent the last of our Guaranis on souvenirs. To finish the day, we walked back through town to the bus station where we ate a big meal and drank too much wine.
Day 39 – July 18, 1991
This was to be our last day at Iguazú. After a purposely-late start, we caught the 11 AM bus to the research center. Today, we’d try the Macuco trail for some variety. The day was overcast and we weren’t seeing many birds, when we met 2 British birders. These guys were good, and they introduced us to 3 new birds in one spot. We walked about 3 miles to the end of the trail, down past the falls and right to the bank of the Río Iguazú. It was very humid and sticky. On the walk back, we passed right by a group of Capuchin monkeys, very cool. Folks in the know had told us that howler monkeys inhabited the area, but we never saw any. Once back at the center, we met Rosalyn and Kathy, the 2 American girls studying there, and went with them for a beer at the Dos Hermanas bar.
For the last time, we caught a bus back to town, then ate some supper in our room and turned in early. Altogether we’d spent a week around the falls and felt ourselves very fortunate to have had such quality time in a world-class place.
Please stay tuned for the final installment of this story.