Our last day in the town of San Ignacio, in the Province of Misiones. And we still had quite a bit of time left. We woke up early and packed our bags. Then we headed down for breakfast. The female employees were gathered with the owner having a chat, and while we were quietly eating breakfast a couple of tables away, the conversation between the owner and the staff took on surprised expressions with comments like “how terrible!” “how can things like that happen?” and similar phrases. The owner of the lodging was holding a newspaper, and she was the one passing the news on to the employees. It wasn't long before we found out about the news that was causing such a stir. Someone had assaulted a tourist couple. The tourists were traveling by car on a road toward the river; the criminal had placed a log blocking the way, and when the tourist got out to move the log, the criminal tried to rob him. Faced with the tourist's resistance, the assailant struck him and shot at the car. Even though there wasn't much more information than that, vox populi had already determined who the criminal was. He hadn't been caught yet, and they only had the tourist's statement given at the police station, which was passed on to the press, and the press communicated it to the population through the newspaper. One of the readers—the owner of the lodging—read the news and shared it with us. Not only that, but she told us who the robbing criminal was down to the last detail! According to her, she connected the dots and deduced that the criminal was none other than the prisoner who had escaped a week earlier from a prison in a nearby town, a news story that had also appeared in the newspapers the previous week. And just when everyone believed the fugitive had crossed the border and left for Paraguay, the lady reassured us by saying that he would soon be caught since he must have stayed put, and having no money, proceeded to assault those tourists on that remote, solitary path covered in vegetation. An isolated incident. And luckily for the owner, case solved; he was already cornered and identified, they just needed to catch him. You could tell the lady was anxious to instill a certain sense of peace in the tourists. Let's say they care about taking care of tourism, the source of their income. Luckily, the concern over this terrible event between the owner and her employees was soon forgotten when they read the carnival news: the comparsa that had already won on previous occasions won again, and this sparked suspicions among those present.
The fact is that once we finished breakfast, we were going to set off for Club de Río. And when we mentioned this to the lodging owner, unease gripped her once more: Club de Río is reached via an isolated, solitary path covered in vegetation, and it was on that path where they tried to rob the tourist. Madam, do not worry. It's daytime, there is more traffic, and everyone is on alert for the criminal and his misdeed; besides, he attacks at night and only targets tourists traveling alone. Ultimately, it was nothing more than an isolated incident, a robbery that didn't escalate (thankfully), and nothing more. Here, criminal events happen every day, and many are serious; a day goes by without reading a crime news story is a rarity. We are used to it.
We had to check out of the lodging by 10:00 AM and our bus was at 7:30 PM. It was impossible to rent the lodging for a few hours since everything was already fully booked; as soon as we left, new tourists were checking in. Peak season was in full swing. We asked the owner for permission to leave our bags for the seven or eight hours we were going to be out, and she kindly allowed us to leave them at her house. She always treated us very well.
We called a taxi and set off; it’s a 15-minute trip.
Along the way, we passed by the Virgen de Itatí Plazoleta. You can barely make out the small shrine with the Virgin. And two signs: one indicating the name of the Plazoleta and the other pointing toward the Teyú Cuaré National Park. That sign indicates Ranger Station 7km away; to get to Club de Río, you take the same road until it forks at a certain point: one way goes to Club de Río and the other toward the Provincial Park. To Club de Río it’s 3,500 meters, meaning 3.5 km.
I remember we also passed another square or Plazoleta—I didn't take pictures, but I remember seeing the bust of Güemes, and it is likely of him and not someone else, since Avenida Martín Güemes passed right through there.
In these cases, if you are going to get around by remis (private hire taxi), it is advisable to check the cost beforehand; some remises stop at the Terminal, while others stop on the block where the Church is located. There are probably more stops.
We arrived at Club de Río. The entrance fee is 95 per person. We arranged with the remis driver to come back and pick us up at 5:00 PM. At the entrance there is a booth, one or two people collecting the entrance fee, and a barrier.
At the same time, this club has a few cabins available for rent to tourists. It is the most complete place in terms of a tourist complex, and it is also one of the most expensive. We went inside and headed straight to a place where there is an Information office. A woman assists you and explains the different areas of the complex. Then she gives you a brochure with information. Right there, there is a small restaurant and, right next to it, an area where they sell some nautical and beach clothing. We came out and headed to the beach sector. We took an internal street that led us to the beach area. The sand was clean, and there were large umbrellas, which they call "palapa-style umbrellas." There were also "wooden carts" that you could adjust however you wanted, allowing you to get comfortable sitting or lying down. That's how we set up our spot; it wasn't noon yet, the sun was hitting hard, and people were starting to arrive.
A bit further ahead, about 70 meters from the shoreline heading out into the river, there is an artificial island, and upon it, they built a resto-bar fittingly named "La Isla" (The Island).
Although we didn't go into the restaurant, we walked around it since it also functions as a viewpoint.
This club is one of the most complete; it offers much more. It has the cabin sector, a conference room, a sector with quinchos (thatched gazebos) and grills, another camping sector, and everything related to recreation. Lots of trees and quite a few palm trees. By noon it was filling up with people. It even had a parking lot.
In another area, but below ground level—meaning, going down a flight of stairs—was the swimming pool, surrounded by tables, chairs, and umbrellas. The pool was divided into two parts to separate the deep end. Showers were located on one of the sides. There was also a bar there that sold fruit smoothies. They offered various fruit blend options. There was another bar on the beach as well; we bought two smoothies to share since they were large sizes. We also had a grilled lomito (steak) sandwich for lunch, which they made right there. It was impressive to watch the bartender at the river bar handle the fruits (all sweet) plus sugar, with bees and wasps buzzing all around. They landed on his hands, the rims of the glasses, and the bottlenecks, yet he just kept right on working.
This club offers several alternative tourism and recreational activity options. We weren't going to leave without doing something; had we had more time, we probably would have done even more. Among the activities offered were: * Trekking and hikes for bird and wildlife watching, climbing the small hill, the Osununú Reserve, and the Pindoity indigenous village. * Canopy tours (ziplining). * Rappelling, Ziplining, and SUP. * Archery, Canoeing, and Climbing. * Mountain Biking. * Full Moon: Hiking, Ziplining, and Canoeing under the full moon. * Beach Party. * Bonfires / Karaoke. * Water Excursions.
The offer was interesting. What to do? It turned out there was an area where a group of young people hung out, and they dedicated themselves to all these activities. They organized them for those interested. So we walked over to ask them about it. For the activities, you had to form small groups of at least four or five members, you paid, and off you went. Around noon, all the organizers were already set up; they were just waiting for people to arrive, and it took no more than two minutes before the activities began.
In archery, a father brought his young son, and there they were, both competing at the target. The zipline seemed short; it came from the island resto, crossed a stretch of the river, and arrived where the organizers were. The hike up the hill scored points and we wanted to do it, but it took several hours, which conflicted with our schedule. A group of five or six young people formed and set off on the hike. These organizers were well-prepared people; the group set off with their guide. We decided we could go canoeing. And that's what we did.
We paid the organizer and waited for other people who wanted to canoe. Five minutes later, two more couples approached wanting to hop into kayaks. Perfect, the group was formed. We had a couple of carry-on backpacks, and they allowed us to leave them in the archers' box until we got back. The activity lasted about an hour. One of the organizers approached us—who later told us he has a degree in Tourism—and put life jackets on all six of us. We also had to leave our sneakers there. Then they handed us our paddles and took us down to the boat ramp. For this, two other assistants and guides were placing the kayaks in the water. Now the guide got us semi-organized and, standing in front of us, gave us the instruction class: the paddle is handled like this and like that, to turn like this and like that, to brake like this. And please, if we end up next to the rocks, do not push off with the paddle; always use your hand. Ready. Last piece of advice: if you fall into the water, don't worry, the boat floats, the paddle floats, and you float too. Now then, into the water. Great. A couple of paddle strokes and we were already out in the Paraná River. The guide took the lead, others lagged a little bit behind, and paddle, and paddle.
The guide is respectful and not annoying at all. He simply lets us go at our own pace: some move fast, others stay behind, others get stuck among branches, others crash—the usual natural occurrences—and the guide says nothing, neither getting annoyed nor bothering any of the sightseers on the journey.
However, every now and then he makes a stop. He waits for all of us to gather and then we continue the trip. Along the way, two or three times he gathers everyone and gives us interesting commentary about the place. For example, on the other side of the river is the neighboring bordering country of Paraguay. He points out its coast and shows us elevations in the terrain resembling small hills, which they call "el hombre muerto" (the dead man) because of the shape the terrain takes when viewed from the Argentine coast.
Right here, when we stop and everyone gathers, he tells us, "at this point the river is 30 meters deep." By the time we reached this point, we had been paddling for quite a while and had moved a good stretch away from the coast. We turned and set a course back toward the shore.
He points out the cliff. It’s the Peñón del Teyú Cuaré (Teyú Cuaré Cliff). A rocky, forested hill. This hill in the Provincial Park has a height of 120 meters. The guide tells us that Teyú Cuaré in Guarani means "Lizard Cave." Then he brings us closer to the rock and points out a fissure in the stone. Something looked "streaked," and a tiny squeaking sound could be heard. He explains to us that those are bats. Bats inhabit those holes in the rock. He tells us that "there are about 11 species in the Teyú Cuaré region. Only one is blood-sucking, and the rest are all insectivorous. He also mentions that one species exclusively inhabits those spots and can only be accessed by arriving from the river."
From there, and after a brief rest with conversation, we started our return journey. This was made quite a bit easier because we were going with the current in our favor, until we veered closer to the center and all the sightseers ended up single-file in an area full of branches, where we got sort of stuck. After sorting ourselves out and managing to get out of that spot, each of us set course again toward Club de Río.
Once the canoeing was over, we returned the paddles, boats, and life jackets, and picked up our backpacks and footwear. We continued wandering around Club de Río as the time for our return approached. We found a good spot to relax in the shade of a palm tree overlooking the river on a couple of lounge chairs we found on the beach.
A few minutes before 5:00 PM, we made our way back to the entrance, where the barrier is. The guy who was receiving incoming visitors and charging the entrance fee offered us a couple of chairs while we waited for the remis. Hard seeds or fruits from some trees were falling to the ground—I don't know what plant it was—and you had to stay to one side to avoid getting hit on the head by one.
After a little while, the guy in the booth got a phone call asking about "the two people sitting at the entrance"; he replied that they were "waiting for a remis." Evidently, they had some security camera and a central station from where they were watching us.
The remis arrived, and we went back to the lodging to pick up our bags.
At the lodging, we said goodbye to the owner. And we walked all the way to the Terminal. I don't remember if we went back via Marcelo T. de Alvear Street or Uruguay Street. A dirt street, narrow, full of potholes, in bad condition, unpleasant for walking. We walked the five blocks to Avenida Sarmiento and from there, crossed the highway to reach the Terminal.
In the photographs, you can see a characteristic anthill of the type that rises from the earth forming an elevated mound; they are tall, dome-shaped, and can be found everywhere, all around San Ignacio, even in the city itself. This particular one was on a corner.
The truth is, I don't know specifically what kind of ant it is or what these anthills are called; they might be the ones called tacurú, but I don't know for sure.
I was only able to find a few links on the web to read up a bit, though it didn't fully satisfy or quench my curiosity.
Having concluded our visit to this city, it remains to be said that much was left unexplored and unseen, from tasting the local gastronomy—something we didn't do but would have been nice—to visiting a yerba mate plantation, touring the Teyú Cuaré Provincial Park, the Osununú Nature Reserve, an indigenous village, Puerto Viejo, and perhaps some of the nearby towns. There is also another area of the city, not marked as having tourist attractions, further out that we didn't get to know.
On the way back, coming from Puerto Iguazú, the Via Bariloche buses arrived: one was running an hour late, and the other was on time, with a 10-minute difference from the delayed one. The one on time was ours. In San Ignacio, at the Terminal, the agents for this bus company—I don't know if the others do the same—could be seen taking a photo of the passengers every time they boarded, from the office located a few meters further back. Why could that be? The way they found to substitute for a security camera? Whatever the case, we boarded and it brought us back to Federal Capital.
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