OK, back to the four month trip through South America. Sorry for the month long delay.
At the border of Brazil and Argentina, after my long nap at the resort-like hostel, I decided to spend the remainder of the day checking out the Brazilian side of the falls at Iguazu. The people at the hostel's front desk pointed out a bus stop in front of the building where I could pick up transportation to the main road and to the bus going to the falls. The bus was two dollars. No mistakes this time.
When I arrived at the Brazilian side of the falls, I found a large complex with thousands of people roaming the grounds. I immediately went looking for the ATM the hostel employees told me would be here. There was one there. But it wouldn't accept my card. Brazil was really starting to annoy me. I had $10, enough to get me in to see the falls, but not enough to get me back to the hostel. What to do? Chance it.
After I paid my way in, I went looking for the buses to the falls. On board the only open seat was next to an Israeli named Yonatan, traveling through South America after fulfilling his conscription duties. He had found a map of the area and thus had me following him around the park the rest of the afternoon. The Brazilian side of the falls offers the "grand overview" (where the Argentine side allows you to see the falls up close). It didn't take very long to see everything there was to see. Thankfully because with the humidity here it felt like Savannah, GA, in June. Yonatan and I snapped pictures and dodged the throngs of tourists there. You know all the white trash that clutter most theme parks? That is not a U.S. phenomenon. Theme parks in Brazil bring the scaries out too.
The Falls were pretty amazing. And at one part of the trail, the path went right out over the water to get a close up view of one of the many falls. The water spray was a source of excitement and refreshment for everyone looking to cool down a bit. After taking it all in, Yonatan and I made our way back to the bus stop. The Israeli had flown in on his way to Rio and had a layover for a few hours - deciding to make the most of it by seeing the falls. I told him my predicament about no bus fare and he told me the airport had several ATMs. He gave me two dollars to get to the airport and there I found six ATMs, only one of which would accept my card. What is it with Brazilian ATMs?? With money to pay for the hostel and my fare back, I thanked Yonatan and went back to catch the bus.
It was 5pm when I arrived at the hostel. The "community" dinner I signed up for wouldn't be served until 8pm. So I hit the bar by the pool. Here I met everyone. It started with two French-Canadians. Then an Brit and his Venezuelan girlfriend (gf for the time they were at the hostel). Then a Mexican, followed by three guys from Norway juggling a soccer ball between themselves. It was that trio that started the World Cup game in the hostel's large, lighted soccer field. They recruited as many of us at the pool as they could. Soon 19 of us were walking out onto the field to start a game. After two people were deemed captains, players were picked from a line up. Amazingly I wasn't picked last. If only they knew how well I played.
The game was fun, fast paced, and exhausting. As the only U.S. citizen on the field, I wish I could say I represented us well. I wish I could say that I brought us honor and praise. I wish I could have run for longer than a few minutes at a time without falling back on defense to catch my breath. I gave it my all - about 20% of what everyone else seemed to have. And I played for a solid hour and a half. Then the teams started to fall apart (thankfully) and people left for dinner. Suddenly our team had three more layers than the other team and I used this as my excuse to sit out and watch. And hyperventilate.
I cheered from the sidelines - until two Australians walked into the game. Then I was suddenly needed again. I stood up, stretched, did a half turn, and walked to dinner. Go Team U.S.A.
That night went well beyond dinner as people ultimately shuffled back out to the pool bar. The soccer players were all there, as were several of the "fans". I found a table with some of the original peeps I met when I first came to the bar. We chatted for hours - A Portuguese guy, the two French Canadians, the Mexican, the Brit, and Japanese gal. Round after round of drinks arrived at our table seemingly without request. When I was sufficiently intoxicated, around 4am, someone reminded me that the tour of the Argentine side of the falls left at 8am. This meeting of world partners was done. It was time for 3 hours of sleep - packing would wait until the morning.
To see pics of my time at Iguazu, follow this link:
http://flickr.com/photos/15233918@N00/sets/72157603820470641/
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