PUERTO IGUAZU: WATERFALL AND BUTTERFLIES
From the Brazilian side, I had seen the overall view of the falls from a respectful distance.
On the Argentinian side, we were walking right ON TOP of the falls, the tremendous force of water gushing down at our feet.
At each viewpoint, I stood mesmerized, a silly grin on my face.
At the last viewpoint, which was right in front of the top of the Garganta del Diablo (the day before, I was at the bottom bit), I was staring at a profanely copious amount of brown water crashing down, mere metres from me. I felt weak in the knees in view of such power. Tears smarted in my eyes. I'm so lucky to be alive to see this, I chanted. I gagged for breath. I was choked for words.
I looked around for someone and a woman (I learnt later from Ecuador - sweet dear) next to me returned my look and we connected, we knew.
I walked around the platform, like a confused person, shaking my head in disbelief and then, raising my head to face the sight in front of me again.
Yes, believe it, dear. The Iguacu Falls had shared its magic with me. I felt like soaring in the sky like those crazy swifts below.