Falling a Little Late

The sea lions of Cabo Palonio (more explanation later)



Travel Tip 012: Don’t give up on your blog. Writing and reflecting after adventures are the last scintillating nuggets to top a great study abroad experience. You will be busy. You will want to take the next bus to any and every other travel destination possible; to see the white sands, the hand-shaped monument, the vineyard, the Brazilian hospitality, the world renowned waterfalls and then some. But keep writing about them. I am a great example of the downside to keeping up with a blog throughout one’s travels because I let my experiences far exceed my reflections of them.

Because I have failed to post any of my recent experiences in South America, I have a lot to summarize. First, set to the date of April 2nd – 3rd, Cabo Palonio: part national park, part tourist community, and part super small destination sensation, Cabo is another chill summer location known for the fact that it has so little going on. Traveling with three French ladies, three representatives of Germany, and running into three ladies from el país Vasco, Cabio Palonio became exactly the type of adventure we made of it. Some of us went horse-back riding, others trekked through the sand dunes, and one of our party consumed a pizza sized “bomb” made up of sugar coated sweet bread wrapped around oozing dulce de leche, told horror stories about the origination of Cabo beneath a full moon en español, befriended a stray dog, lost and recovered his camera case, and spoke with sea lions (guilty). But whether waking up to a prime quality breakfast in the same hostel that uses beer bottles for landscaping, attempting to get in cover from the rain in a place that has no shelter, or placing one’s self directly in the path of a speeding cuatro y cuatro (open roof vehicle), there was never an empty moment.

Skipping ahead to the following Saturday, April 9th, I found myself traveling to el Cerro del Pan de Azucar with Manue and Ferley from France, Kelsey and Nicole of the United States, and Daniela of Germany. The theme here was la naturaleza >> nature and free space. Finally escaping the condensed streets of Montevideo and evading some of the more typical tourist locations, my friends and I headed to the Indigenous Wildlife Preserve and mountain (actually a hill but “mountain” sounds much more adventurous) of el Pan de Azucar. The base of the mountain was devoted to a zoo: a circuit of cages enclosing mountain cats, alligators, furry pig-like creatures, birds of all shapes and sizes, turtles, badgers, and jaguars. We found the zoo depressing: there were mountain cats pouncing on the corner of their cage, a solitary hare shaking in the corner of its cage, and a massive jaguar prowling a limited, highly restricted hut. However scaling the mountain was an amazing turn toward freedom and coexistence with the la naturaleza. Balancing on mossy tree trunks, scraping my legs up and over rocks, sneaking through a bat cave, and following brightly painted directional markers, I felt like a miniature board piece on a “Find the Buried Treasure” board game. The reward at the top: la vista (view). Panoramic views are much better when they include a long rest on a rock after a quarter day’s climb. We lunched on a variety of awkward snacks like champions.

The top of el Pan de Azucar



I realize this blog is getting a little long so I’m going to wrap up with a brief description of the Iguazu Falls I saw during la semana santa, the Easter holiday between April 14th and April 23rd. I should comments; the Iguazu Falls are a system of massive waterfalls located on the borders of Argentina, Brazil, and Paraguay. Like Niagra Falls but BIGGER and spread out.

Swirling mists of corporeal gas cut toward the end of the world while hidden dragons poke nostrils out of their caves to snort explosive fumes. Water is everywhere in one form or another, enveloping everything within a Petri dish. You feel small. And soggy: soggy rice peering at the long, voluminous, egg-white, and wheat-brown spaghetti strands of water carving straight down, down, down. A constant and inescapable Shhhhh accompanies the moisture like a hail storm. Wet, musky, shining green plants give off a taste of citrus and dew. You will remember the high population of people, the cramped catwalk, the butterflies landing on your arms, the dense humidity, and the urge to free fall.