What gorgeous terrain on the way to Cachi. And what a stunning girl next to me.
"Schumaker." She jokes as she pushes the tental car around tight corners fast enough to make the safety conscious Swedes in the back seat moan. She laughs in pure pleasure at the effect she has on them. After we lunch at a wide and shallow river (whats mine is yours typical european hospitality. I enjoy the rich dark bread) the scenery soon becomes fascinating. Breaking away from rainforest we start toward the mountains and the desert. The road is cut out under a cliff follows the river. Spiderwebs clump like the fallen nests of eagles on the other side. The tree shadow beneath them is thick and dark. After we cross the rusted iron bridge the quality of the road is noticably worse. Soon a landslide covers the road. The path cut around it is covered by several black horses and one palamino with its palamino foal. The contrast is remarkable. Dutch Femca the Swedish brothers Sara the Suizia Shumacker and myself jump out of the parked car. They rush to take photo´s and capture the somewhat surreal experience and I do my best to commit it to memory. The first passing car in over an hour breaks the spell by forcing the horses off the road. So back in the car we jump. And how we wind and wind, further and furhter upwards. Tiny houses with rose gardens make tiny highway villages. Luckily for us this Schumacker lives up to her name. Her father bought her snow driving lessons for her last birthday.
"I thought it was a stupid present at the time, but I appreciate it now."
"If you´re so scared of hights stop looking of the edge." Dutch Femca berates Joel. His brother david defends him with "He´d rather look fear in the face." The joy in Sara´s laugh makes the day brighter.
We run over a couple of giant spiders and the road gets truly tough before we make the plateau. It is incredible when we do as well. What is so much space doing up so high? Beautiful yellow flowers grow in the short grass and we all leave the car to bathe in the horizons. Stretching our legs and eyes I wonder how these rocks cactus cattle road grass and wildflowers came to sit up here on the roof of the world. The awe I feel for these deserts valleys cliffs mountains and plants is nothing next to the inspiration of this girl.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Igauzu falls
THE poetry that gushed from my mind in the presence of Igauzu. Words falling from my mind like the wieghtless beauty of the water. It never stops raining at the devils throat. The spray leaps terrified into the sky escaping the violence of the tons and tons of water that mercilessly follow eachother over the edge. It then softly falls all around replinishing the grass that grows on small rock islands and the soulds of tourists who stand like me, arms out and head back all throaths and smiles and relief.
The great width of the river falls again and again at igauzu. Firstly at the devils throat. All but the very extremities of the river are drawn to fall first circle down one three metre drop and than than another much taller. It and the two waterfalls to the left and right are are least half as wide as the Brisbane river. All around are much taller but thinner waterfalls each remarkable by itself but its the combination that leaves people speachless. These falls only manage to add atmosphere because of the outrageous volume of the three biggest falls each next to eachother. How enough mighty enough to carve 50 and 60 metre scars down sheer red rock is beyond me.
Further down the river the water is punished again and again. through rapids and down more and more falls, each worthy of thier own national park.
The swarms of butterflies add almost as much wonder as the falls themselves. Drawn to the salty sweat they cover the hand rails like fingers. While people converge to drink the beauty the butterlies eagerly drink our sweat. Landing on our hats, hands, backs, the hand rails and flying round our heads. The vibrant colours flitting in and out of vision are like a psychedelic trip. Red and black, pink and black, purple with orange spots, black and grey subtlety, blues, blues, blues and the racing number 88 enclosed in concentric circles. The same species as two of the alphabet poster in my childhood bedroom. If the falls don't cause you to laugh at the sky the kaleidoscopic colour sprawls will.
What a heaven.
The great width of the river falls again and again at igauzu. Firstly at the devils throat. All but the very extremities of the river are drawn to fall first circle down one three metre drop and than than another much taller. It and the two waterfalls to the left and right are are least half as wide as the Brisbane river. All around are much taller but thinner waterfalls each remarkable by itself but its the combination that leaves people speachless. These falls only manage to add atmosphere because of the outrageous volume of the three biggest falls each next to eachother. How enough mighty enough to carve 50 and 60 metre scars down sheer red rock is beyond me.
Further down the river the water is punished again and again. through rapids and down more and more falls, each worthy of thier own national park.
The swarms of butterflies add almost as much wonder as the falls themselves. Drawn to the salty sweat they cover the hand rails like fingers. While people converge to drink the beauty the butterlies eagerly drink our sweat. Landing on our hats, hands, backs, the hand rails and flying round our heads. The vibrant colours flitting in and out of vision are like a psychedelic trip. Red and black, pink and black, purple with orange spots, black and grey subtlety, blues, blues, blues and the racing number 88 enclosed in concentric circles. The same species as two of the alphabet poster in my childhood bedroom. If the falls don't cause you to laugh at the sky the kaleidoscopic colour sprawls will.
What a heaven.
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