Dos. Las Cataratas de Iguazu

For those who don't know, Iguassu has three parts where bordering countries Brazil, Argentina, and Paraguay all claim ownership to the falls. 

The argument continues over which country offers the best experience, and after staying on the Brazilian side within the National Park itself, it's hands down Brazil for me. 

The sister hotel of the Copacabana Palace in Rio, named Hotel das Catatatas was our home for the next two nights. Both part of a larger group of Orient-Express Hotels. A company inspired by the original train service, running from Paris to Istanbul which was stopped in 2009.

Who'd have thought that our stay here could be an improvement on the last, but this was special. What is now the Hotel was once the first ever house to be built within miles of the falls, in the days when to get there took months on horseback. Now it remains the only Hotel which sits within the National Park. Except for on the Argentinian side where they have built one which looks like a cruise ship.

The highlight being of course unique access to the falls during hours when it was closed to the public. Yes that's right. Early morning runs without a soul in sight for miles. Only toucans. And the sound of thundering water. My idea of heaven.

Realising I had made a smart move going with my parents to Iguassu, I was soon proved right when I got to take this shot from the front seat of a helicopter flying directly over the falls.

Devil's Throat

If it means visiting less countries in South America, it doesn't matter. Just get yourself on a helicopter.

We did also go to the bird sanctuary, where we saw lots of birds.

This one chose to chew on Mum's shoelace, and not mine.

That evening we made our way down to the falls from the Hotel just before sunset. This was breath taking and has definitely been the highlight of my trip so far.

As for the Argentinian side I thought it didn't quite capture all the commotion from the 'Devil's Throat', as it's called. Whilst it owns the biggest side, it trails along the top of the falls, missing the dramatic, thundering of water going on down below on the Brazilian side. Of course still magnificent.

Typically before I parted from Brazil on Sunday night to head down to Buenos Aires alone, I had already managed to fill the remaining space in my rucksack with Havaina flip flops.