Foz Do Iguazu

Straddling Brazil and Argentina is a stretch of river. A massive one. Its waters pour over several giant steps of magma before tumbling thousands of feet into the ever deepening valley below. Like any natural wonder of the modern world, The Igauzu Falls have of course become a major tourist attraction - with all the trappings that entails. To view the whole lot takes two days - such is the velocity of the water.

The two countries are somewhat competitive about their ´ownership´ of the falls. ´Look what we have!´ shout the Brazilians on their side, while the Argentinians - boasting, as they do, the lions share of the banks, display their ownership via the efficacy of their viewing platforms - which dangle you over the edge of the falls so you feel the spray on your face.

Watch the water until you see a circular rainbow appear, the sun catching the endless fall of fine mist. Birds plunge in and out, to and from the rock face behind the colossal sheet of water. They drop away from the rock, falling towards the cauldron below before soaring upwards, in pairs, diving and swooping through the rainbow. It´s like watching a Disney film. Butterflies swirl idiotically close to the spray, some of them clipped unluckily by a droplet and being torn down by the force, others circle lazily, their wings getting wetter and wetter, their flight lower until they are taken by the water - or else perform some incredible feat and power out of the cavern.

The trees and vegetation are so absolutely green they almost hurt your eyes. Getting bathed in a constant fine mist must be the most luxury life for a plant.

Admiring another country from the top of a waterfall, you can see the tiny figures doing the same from across the river. We stand there feeling the spray, hearing the thunder for a very long time. I faze out the American tourists around me, ignore the shouts of the photographers desperate to sell you back your image. Dizzy with vertigo, watching the incessant tumble of the water, feeling the vital force.