The last of three mini blogs from Uruguay:
Two weeks ago, Chris and I went on a multi-national trip up to see the world famous (I’d never heard of them before!) waterfalls on the border between Brazil, Paraguay and Argentina, staying a night in each of two hotels, one in Brazil, and the next in Argentina. The falls, now counted as one of the seven natural wonders of the world, can only be reached on the Brazilian side by a seven kilometer special road, so we hired a taxi for the day, and ended up by hiring the driver again the following day. The temperature was up in the high 30s C, and yet they said they had had no rain for a month. This, our driver said, would make the falls more visible. In the height of the rainy season you can see nothing for the spray.
I’d recommend the Brazil side, where you walk for about an hour along the side of the river and get up close and personal with a lot of water. The Argentinian side seems dominated by the need to take little trains, two of them, to get within a mile of the falls. You then have to tramp across endless metal walk ways. The main problem was the heaving crowds of people, jam packed all the way there and back. I was astounded by all this human endeavour. The falls were large, wet and noisy. I am even going to break the habit of all these blogs and try to upload a picture to show you. This may be the start of more illustrations. You never know! (Sorry, but the picture has now fallen to the bottom of the page as I haven’t discovered how to do wrap-around text here yet.)
The following weekend we went down to Colonia de Sacramento, a sleepy and attractive little town on the river and finished by driving two hours inland and staying on an estancia where the horses were lovely and the food was dreadful. Included in the price was a two hour horse ride. Chris, being too tall and with a busted shoulder, stayed behind but I went out with a group of six led by an over weight gaucho, who spent most of the time on the phone, and his two dogs who managed to catch an armadillo and a green snake in the fields. This caused a lot of shrieking from some of my fellow riders.. It was quite an adventure as we were then caught in a thunderstorm, complete with forked lightening, torrential rain and thunder all around us.
We came back after three hours in pitched darkness at 9pm, but intact, thanks to my very sensible and steady horse. A TV crew were making a film about this touristic experience, but we avoided being in it, as they weren’t going to wait out in the rain for us. I was soaked to the skin and had to get off my horse by step ladder, but proved there is life in the old bones still. Very good scheme, riding on a sheepskin! I have no photographic proof of this experience, as Chris too did not stay out in the rain to record our return.