Enjoy the legroom now folks, there's 12 hours of the flying DMV, a.k.a. Aerolineas Argentina, coming up. Before Bill de Blasio implements his soaring vision of Two Cities becoming One, harmoniously joined hand-in-hand in an enormous bread queue, he should be consigned to the same Aerolineas economy class experience. The difference between socialism and reality is equality versus equally miserable. Stick with Big Hair dude, not Big Government.
Letting a socialist government run an airline is a lot like letting a socialist government run a health insurance exchange. Both have problems taking off.
But all that is quickly forgotten as the verdant jungle surrounding the fabled Iguazu Falls slips into view beneath those taxpayer-funded wings. Actually they're funded by junk-grade sovereign debt, but let's not let technicalities get in the way. After all, the government didn't let mere trifles, like say blatant illegality, slow them down when they decided it would be nice to seize an oil company or two.
The sleepy jungle town of Puerto Iguazu is the perfect place to chill out after 12 painful hours in socialist class.
The local market is buzzing despite the oppressive regim... tropical heat.
Argentina blends the best of European café culture with a relaxed, fun-loving South American vibe. Add in a penchant for ice cold cerveza and you've got a winning combination.
Salud!
Sometimes it's nice to escape the hype and breathless what's-hot-this-moment restaurant scene in New York. A simple skirt steak grilled right on the street with a touch of olive oil and salt hits the spot. The only molecular deconstruction here is happening in Rock's stomach.
Beer always tastes better surrounded by palm trees.
The good thing about soaring levels of unemployment is the café strip is packed at all hours of the day.
Get your swimming in now, because tomorrow's destination features the kind of infinity pool that doubles as an eternity pool for those who venture too close to the edge.
Empanada mamas.
Seems no one needs to be up early for work tomorrow. Funny that, because the official unemployment stats say everyone has a job...
Big Two, the Official Game of Team J00ster. Loser rides the falls in a barrel tomorrow.
Looks like they've nationalized the railroads too. Oh wait, that's the idea in a National Park.
Garganta del Diablo. Apparently too terrifying to translate into English.
The mile-long boardwalk that leads to the brink of the precipice allows anticipation to build to a suitable fever pitch.
Hang on, the loser is supposed to be carrying a barrel. He must be going down au naturel.
The Smoke that Thunders. Hang on, wrong continent.
He stared the Diablo in the eye and lived to tell the tale. Which is rather unfortunate because now you have to finish reading this post. And the six more to come.
Unlike Victoria Falls, you can't actually swim in this Devil's pool. That's a shame, because South Americans sure do know how to rock a bikini. If they bother with one at all.
Careful, they're rather loose with where they plant that flag. Covet that nifty oil rig over yonder? Plant the flag and it's yours.
That's a lot of water. And even more water photos.
Coke Life comes in a green bottle with an all natural sweetener. It must be healthy because it sucks compared to the Real Thing.
This infinity pool seems to lack a swim-up bar. Apparently they had a problem with clientele forgetting to settle the bill before getting... uhm... swept away by the scenery.
Who's up for a little white water rafting? Looks like a lazy class III there.
Ok, maybe a 3.5...
There's a pot of gold at the end if you've got 300 feet of rope and nerves of steel. Hey when inflation is running at 25% it's either that or mining bitcoins.
When you're ready for a different perspective on the falls, take the low road.
With temperatures hitting the 90s the decrepit electricity grid is under such a strain there's rolling brownouts across the country, and rolling protests in the streets. Fortunately there are alternatives to aircon out here. There's also alternatives to setting trash cans on fire to try to get the lights to turn on. It's called capitalism. It doesn't always work, but it's better than something that always fails.
That's a little boat for a big falls. Tighten up those life vests folks, we're going in hot.
We're going in... we're going in full throttle, that ought to keep those fighters off our back!
It won't keep the water off your backs though. The sheer weight of water pounding down as the boat plunges into the falls is staggering. It's almost as heavy as the steaks we've got lined up on the other side.
The local raccoon-ish creatures have a hankering for empanadas, and they're not afraid to do whatever it takes to get one. Rock is taking notes.
Hey, stealing you dinner is better than slurping flies out of the air.
Beware, there's always room for desert after empanadas...
...and they start training the young 'uns early.
You know next door in Peru they have pans just the right shape for you fellows.
Back home on the range. Just in case 1,800 cubic meters per second isn't enough water for one day.
Those plates look like they're itching for a juicy red Argentinian steak. Forget the plates, what about those stomachs?
For a different perspective on the falls one has to cross the river, and incidentally the Brazilian border.
The competition between Brazil and Argentina goes well beyond the football pitch. You have a jungle train? Well check out our ginormous double decker jungle buses. You have 15% inflation? We've got 25%!
Aren't you a little overdressed for this side of the border?
It's ok, because the wet t-shirt competition judging is at the end of that walkway.
Wet and wild.
Hotel des Cataratas is an oasis in the steamy jungle, a relic from a more glamorous age when guests arrived by BOAC flying boat. You know, before the dark times, before Aerolineas Argentinas.
Why didn't we stay here again?
Time to eat again? Is this a great country or what?
Is that the malbec speaking?
Vegetables in Argentina are about as common as reliable electricity.
No comments:
Post a Comment