Iguazu Falls

In a word: wow. There is something extremely humbling about standing on a narrow sliver of concrete walkway while millions of gallons of water swirl and roar around you. You stand on the precipice and look down. Water tumbles and crashes over the edge. A salty breeze rises up and licks your face. You’re engulfed in mist and spray. A full circle rainbow appears. The sound is deafening. All that raw, ceaseless, natural energy, and you find yourself smack bang in the middle of it, feeling pretty tiny.

The Iguazu Falls straddle the border between Brazil and Argentina. The whole area has a primeval feel - dense jungle, oppressive humidity, psychadelic butterflies and bugs, coatamundi (google it) running around, mist from the falls rising up through the valley, vultures circling above. The falls themselves aren’t particularly high - the highest drop is about eighty metres - but it’s the sheer volume of water that makes this one of nature’s greatest spectacles. The falls are roughly J shaped, with a 2.7 km long edge and islands that split the falls into hundreds of different channels and cataracts, giving the impression of a landscape that is bursting at the seams. The largest of the falls is called Garganta do Diabo - the Devil’s Throat - where the massive volume of water pouring over the edge makes it look like a long white curtain. And right into the thick of it is where that narrow sliver of concrete takes you.