This was another tourist town. The other major thing to see in Argentina aside from Glacier Perito Moreno in southern El Calafate. I have now done both! I arrived in the afternoon of the 17th. March 17th being St. Patricks day. Now I have only met a couple Irish on this entire trip, but there just happened to be one at this hostel. When I arrived he was sitting by the pool (oh yeah, there was a pool!) drinking of course, as the irish do best. After going out and exploring the town, which I soon discovered there was nothing to explore, I came back and found he hadn´t moved, but there was a different pair of people around him, the person prior must have gotten bored. Anyway I got changed and hopped in the pool immediately after resurfacing I was offered some beer by the Irishman, Ritchie was his name. The two girls were Danish and getting good fun out of his strong, gibberish of an accent and asking him why he said the work ¨fucking¨so much. He replied with ¨Its because I´m fuckin´ Irish, what you never met an Irishman before¨ They confessed that they had not. I myself confessed that my best friend was Irish and also that his father was born in the motherland and said the national word a fair bit himself. Ritchie replied ¨there ya go¨. Now Ritchie did have a considerably strong Irish accent, and I consider myself pretty good at understanding foreign accents. As could be expected he was already ¨pissed¨ and the beer did not make his accent any easier to understand, rather it made everything slurr into a jumble of indeciferable gibberish. Anyway the four of us kicked it off talking about St. Patrick´s day, its celebration and history. Ritchie explained to be a bad-ass saint that came to ireland and killed all the snakes. So now the celebration is over-intoxicating the body for one night. I admitted that it was the same culture in eastern USA and where I live in Canada. We spent the night hanging out and then went out to a restaurant for more beer and food.
The next day I got up early and went to the National Park to see the falls. Well if I had missed tourists before by the end of the day I had had my fill once again. The park entrance was filled with buzzing foreigners struggling to get in. Suprizingly lots of Asians respectively with their large cameras. The likes of which I hadn´t seen since Machu Picchu. I casually stode in and found the tour that I paid to get on with. It was named the Great Adventure. A trip on a truck through the ¨jungle¨ for 20 minutes after which you hop on a boat and ride up the Rio Iguazú, see the falls from probably the best view point, then carry on to be immersed several times under some of the many water falls. Again, this was one of the first tours I have paid to do in a while, some are worth the money and some are not but I will admit that this, although only lasted an hour, costed 50 dollars or so, was very exciting. The truck section of the jungle was aimless, but coming of the river was great with the boat often sailing up into the air of rapids. I was at the very front so I had the best ride. The view was incredible with the falls slowly showing themselves as we came up the river very mystical. Then all of a sudden they are just everywhere in front of you, the entire field of your vision. The sounds is extremely loud next to the screams and cheers of the boat passengers. Immense clouds of mist constantly sitting overtop of the water. The endless streams of white falling water varying in width and height. This was an enchanting place. I couldn´t help imagining if you were the first indigenous tribes that came upon the place through the thick jungle greenery. There are several different trails that go around yet 2 major ones, the upper and lower. The former being from above, on top of the falls and the later being below. A boat can be taken (included in entrance fee) across the straights and to an island that sites in the middle of it all. This offered the best views in my opinion.
All in all it was impressive and exciting. Yet by the end of the day the extreme heat and sun had beaten me. The endless noise and crowds of people forcing their way closest to the railing to get the best view grew tiresome and sickening. I left a bit earlier than I was expecting to but I was exhausted! I came back to town and rested that evening and spent the entire next day lazing about (ther was a pool!) waiting for my arranged bus that evening to San Miguel de Tucuman in the Northwest where I would catch another bus 4 hours north of Tucuman to Salta to see the famed colourful mountains of Red, Green, Blue and Purple. Everyone I had met who had been has only spoken of wonder and amazement. I went expecting to encounter the same.
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