Thursday, July 21, 2011

Iguazu Falls and the Sex lives of Travellers


My Brazilian visa was sorted and safely stamped to my passport; I had a lovely time on the Argentinean coast and a good last few days actually enjoying what Buenos Aires has to offer. It took me a while to like this city but it left quite the lasting impression. I was however very happy to be leaving and traveling again. I was even happier to be getting out of Argentina and onto Brazil. First however there was Iguazu falls which I could not leave South America without seeing. Just like every bus in Argentina I got on a 20 hour bus to get to Iguazu from BA. I thought I had book the champagne bus with the seats that turn into beds but when I got on all I was greeted with was a candy and had more Alfajores to look forward to.

I was excited to see the scenery as we got into the north of Argentina close to Brazil and Iguazu falls. It was green, lush and tropical; hmmm...Argentina has been holding back this beautiful north from me!! I had to change buses a few hours before getting to Iguazu and arrived on a bus full of young Israelis. I promised myself to go in the opposite direction of this large Israeli group. As the bus pulled through the main street of Iguazu I was hit in the face with heat and humidity and my hair went into instant afro. It was hot! The bus passed a hostel that had a pool with hammocks and beside was a girl reading a book; I knew this was where I was going to stay. It turned out it was the same place my friend max recommended, Iguazu Falls Hostel which is an HI hostel and against my religion but I went anyway to price it out. I left decided to check around but I just ended up walking up and down the street trying to decide. What happened to my amazing traveller instinct and my knack for finding amazing hostels?? Tracy, focus here! I went with my gut and returned to the HI.

The Iguazu falls were impressive and I was glad to see them up close and personal from the Argentinean side. The motor boat ride practically took you right under the falls. I roamed around on my own comparing the falls in my head to Niagara which are also impressive but not as big. Niagara however is not in nature and suffers from the eye sore that is Clifton Hill a street of souvenir shops, haunted houses, hotels and casinos. Anyone who thinks going to Niagara Falls for their honey moon is romantic probably got married in Vegas or is stuck in the 1960’s. This place invented the word tacky.

Iguazu is no stranger to the tourist but the park is so big you can take your time and really take in the majesty. I was however at yet another amazing world site on my own doing the ol’ hand in front of face camera pose...pathetic! I noticed a couple who looked British or Australian and was going to go over and say hi but shied away. I continued through the park and was surprised to see the couple again it was hard to miss the guy with a dread locked rat’s tail hanging down his back. He approached me to make some comment about the large breasted woman. Stupid me thinking he was trying to make friends continued with the conversation but he looked at me shocked. He got me confused with his friend and was really embarrassed. Especially because of his breast comment which would have seemed odd to any other person but me who was eager to accept a new friend.

He got passed his embarrassment and didn’t think I was a complete weirdo; I was introduced to his friend who he actually met in line to enter the park. They were both traveling alone and staying in different hostels. She was from England and he was from Australia. We got on well, spent the rest of the day wandering together and agreed to meet back at his hostel.

I hadn’t planned on drinking especially since I had to leave the next day for Brazil but at it happens when you travel and you meet people it’s never just a beer. We sat in the lobby of the guy’s pousada as they weren’t allowing guests in the pool area to drink. Next thing I knew the bar was lined with our empty litre beer bottles. They were both really cool people and also had travelled a lot but they weren’t your average traveller, they were nomads like me who had adventures in different countries and stories to tell. As it does when drinking mass quantities of beer, the topic of conversation turned to sex, traveller sex. Alcohol has a way of relaxing the mind and lubricating the lips releasing your secrets and information. I am a bit of a romantic, a free spirit and a lover of men but I realized in the traveller world I would be considered a nun compared to the wild antics these two got up to. When it comes to sex, love and romance it’s a whole different ball came when you are travelling the world but that’s a different unwritten blog or how my Argentinean friend would call it, “the naughty Tracy blog.”

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