Unless you have witnessed and breathed Iguacu falls, trying to describe the experience is like explaining the sensation of falling snow to an indigenous sub-tropical tribe.
A large plane from Buenos Aires, the seatbelt sign had been illuminated for 20mins when the pilot blurted something loudly in Spanish. In my valium blur I watched eyes enlarge excitedly.
The announcement promted instantaneous applause, yes applause, amongst passengers. Rows of people unbelted and stood up, scurrying to the windows, some grasping small children.
Waking from an hours nap, Marias eyelids slid open like the cream shutters I was lifting. Strong light beamed through temporarily blinding me.
Slowly adjusting our eyes, we were low over dense jungle. I watched across the canopy. Was the airport really here?
Circling, it suddenly became clear what all the fuss was about. The crafty pilot was doing a lap of Iguacu! Bloody Latin boys, such show- offs.
As cameras flashed, held tight against the windows, we sat like gaping salmon.
A cavernous fissure of EPIC PROPORTION spilled a shifting sea of long coffee-streaks into a bottomless, white abyss. Plumes of cappucino froth whisped and curled upwards and outwards on a colossal scale. The size was such, that everything appeared in slow motion. Or maybe the valium had a part in that?
I discovered on landing that we had flown over a group of 275 separate waterfalls.
Nothing could have prepared us for the Garganta del Diablo (Devils throat.) The first and most impressive of all the waterfalls within Iguacu national park, it defies description, although I shall attempt to convey some of my emotions.
Disembarking from a slowly acending jungle train we followed raised walkways over parting river channels. Like King Kongs roar, we heard the sound from some distance.
Like some earth shattering larynx the casm ahead began to drown our voices. Talking more loudly to compete the noise grew stronger. Over more walkways and past motionless caimans in the backwaters.
Rising white clouds above trees and silhouettes of creatures we had never seen.
Crashing, thundering sounds everywhere now. We walked the last few yards cautiously for ahead lay the unknown. Finding ourselves perched on a cliff top some 80 metres up, we were positioned over a cataclysmic void of pure white vapour. There was NO bottom. All around us was collapsing.
As we approached the edge, a 3km horseshoe of constantly falling, raging, white walls quickly made us feel powerless and insignificant. We were so minute. Unimaginably large torrents of persistent fury were being unleashed. An anger so powerful, that 1800 cubic metres of water, bombs and explodes here every second.
No words. Just dropped jaws for several minutes. Our heads turned panoramically, trying to comprehend the spectacle.
Black vultures rose and circled on the spewing vapours as every vertical surface moved. It was like the earth was swallowing everything up. Gods plug hole?
Undoubtedly one of the most amazing sights of our lives and the pinnacle of 2 days in the Arhentine north.
Forget all other waterfalls. This is Niagra on Viagra.
