Puerto Iguazú – Day 3: The Mother of All Waterfalls
PUERTO IGUAZÚ
Day 3: The Mother of All Waterfalls
February 27, 2023
Needless to say, my trip to Puerto Iguazú had one main goal. I was here to visit one of the New 7 Wonders of Nature – the Iguazú Falls.
By this point in time I had a difficult relationship with waterfalls. My near-death experience back in Santa Ana, El Salvador at the Trail of the Seven Waterfalls had me feeling like I could do without more of those damned things for the rest of my life. In fact, by the time I got to Boquete in Panama, I briefly toyed with the idea of visiting the Lost Waterfalls Trail before admitting to myself that I was kinda fed up with waterfalls. But this? This was gonna be different. This was the mother of all waterfalls. And spoiler alert, it was well worth the detour.
Named after indigenous words meaning “big water”, the falls form the largest waterfall system in the world, dividing the Iguazú River into upper and lower sections. With a maximum height of 82 metres and a width of around 2,700 metres, the average annual flow rate surging through the falls is an astounding 1,750 cubic metres of water per second. The staircase-like cascades are carved into basalt rock and dotted with islands and canyons, all wrapped in a dense subtropical rainforest.
Iguazú Falls - The Natural Wonder
A short walk from the visitors’ centre – which is infested with coatis thanks to tourists feeding them leftovers (tsk tsk tsk) – marks the start of the Green Trail. From here, I took a path that winds through the jungle before reaching the Upper Circuit – a catwalk roughly half a mile long that runs along the top of the falls.
Imagine walking through lush, overgrown forest along a wooden walkway that’s already a sight in itself, only to emerge into a clearing where the foliage frames a series of colossal waterfalls. Millions of gallons of muddy, roaring water thunder down below, the sheer force of it throwing up a cloud-like mist that gives the whole scene an almost seraphic feel.
The waterfalls of Iguazú absolutely live up to their reputation, a sight so overwhelming it feels reserved for the holiest of people once they reach their long-anticipated heaven. I’m not exaggerating. Standing there, staring at the sheer scale of what lay before me, I genuinely wondered whether I’d died and somehow ended up in paradise, or whether my mind was playing tricks on me. It felt unreal, too beautiful to exist, let alone be put into words. Once again, I found myself questioning my agnosticism, wondering how on earth something like this could exist through pure randomness.
Every few steps revealed a new vantage point, each one somehow better than the last. One moment I was facing a waterfall head-on, the next I was standing right on top of another, mesmerised by the power of the current plunging beneath my feet. At the furthest viewpoint, the scene reminded me of a Japanese garden, scattered rocks and shrubs sitting motionless amid fast-moving water. Between taking a few thousand photos and defending my spot at the front of the viewpoints from the hordes of relentless tourists, I couldn’t help but stare in pure awe. I felt a sense of gratitude and privilege unlike anything else.
More Than Just Waterfalls
After a couple of hours of gawking, I finally tore myself away and headed towards the Lower Circuit, a longer trail packed with viewpoints and winding paths. Here, beyond even more jaw-dropping panoramas of the falls, I got to properly appreciate the surrounding flora and fauna.
The forest, with its moss-covered trees, vibrant orchids, and wildflowers, is one of the most impressive I’ve ever seen. Spider monkeys leapt playfully from branch to branch, digging insects out of tree bark, while plush-crested jays with pitch-black plumage, yellow chests, and striking blue eyebrows looked permanently surprised. And then there were keel-billed toucans, a bird I’ll never, ever get tired of seeing.
Unfortunately, the pièce de résistance, the Garganta del Diablo, also known as the Devil’s Throat, was closed and wouldn’t reopen until the day of my flight – the universe spitting in my face yet again. This is the section where over half of the river’s flow plunges into a vast, roaring chasm.
That said, I still left the park feeling nothing but gratitude for everything I’d been lucky enough to witness. Not to mention, this was the final waterfall I had planned to see on my trip, and I can safely say I went out with a bang.