2 days later, we were to be in plastic kayaks on the river above this inferno, hoping our guide
would keep us well upstream.
The atmosphere was steamy, to say the least; humidity 100% plus. Sunny day to start with, but by noon we were hammered by a proper tropical rainstorm which lasted until evening. Because of the extant sweat and spume, it didn't make us all that much wetter, but our marinade was completed in a suicidal boat with mad bosun who took us in under the falls, laughing while we cried and gasped for O from the H2.
Here you can see Yoko Ono with an American tourist posing as me and pretending to be unafraid on the precipice. Lots of the views were from rusty catwalks somehow planted into the raging cliffs, so I crawled along from time to time while the other jolly jaunters joyfully japed across.
By teatime we were plastered like when you fall in a pool in all your clothes. The finale was an hour's drive in back of an open truck under the forest canopy which couldn't take any more. Our trusty guide Horacio failed for a further 2 long wet hours to find us transport back to the fabulous Hotel Panoramico.
All this was to be repeated tomorrow, as the Brazilians insist that the falls are superior viewed from THEIR territory. To be fair, all the ridiculous butterflies (mariposa) & Kamodo dragons did come out in the sunshine, to enjoy slurping my salty sweat.
