Lake Iberá |
The vast marshland, lakes and floating
islands of the Esteros del Iberá occupy a significant percentage of Corrientes
province in north eastern Argentina.
“Iberá” means “brilliant waters” in Guarani—and Lake Iberá
certainly lives up to its name.
I learned about the Esteros from my
contact at the car rental agency in Buenos Aires, then followed it up with an
on-line search for a place to stay.
After reviewing a few options David and I selected the Irupé Lodge in
the village of Carlos Pellegrini, right in the middle of the Esteros. Our contact warned us, when we told her we
would be driving down from Iguazú Falls, that the last 140 km. were not paved
and would slow us down. That proved to
be an understatement.
Itakva Restaurant, Posadas |
Met at the door by Facundo, the manager,
we were ushered into the large, modern-rustic, and welcoming reception area,
which also includes a sitting area and the dining room. We were offered drinks, which we happily accepted,
then shown to our room—one half of a cottage, built over a marsh area. The
suite was huge, with large bath and deck overlooking the marsh and lake. Before the evening was over we decided we
would stay an extra night and cancelled our reservation at an estancia outside
Buenos Aires where we had planned to spend the last night before arriving in BA. Irupé was the most relaxing place we had seen
in a very long time.
Dinner and all the meals that followed
were 5-star. The owner is a chef and
works with the two cooks to prepare innovative and delicious menus based almost
entirely on local produce. There are no
TV or radios in the lodge or the rooms, so the entire world could blow up and
we would not have known it. What a
treat!! Exhausted, we retired early so
we could arise and enjoy the early morning boat tour on the lake, together with
a walking tour of an area that is home to a family of howler monkeys, and is
located near the park rangers’ HQ and visitors’ centre. We were lucky to see several normally shy howlers
perched on branches a few metres above us.
The boat tour around the floating islands
and edges of the lake lasted almost two hours and brought us up close and
personal with a wonderful array of wildlife: caimans (the South American
alligator), Capybaras—the world’s largest rodent, and an amazing variety of
water and land birds. If you are a
birder, add this spot to your “bucket list.”
Back to the lodge for lunch, then an
afternoon tour of Pellegrini in a carro, with Nené, a priest in an
earlier life, who has a charming wife and several horses. Now, we were surprised when Nené arrived
because “carro” means “car” in Central America. In South America, “carro” is a horse-drawn cart. Nené showed us
the sights of Pellegrini, the house where the oldest resident lives, the
central part, named for Gen. José de San Martín, the great Argentine liberator,
and the cemetery. What could be interesting
about a village cemetery, you might ask.
Well, political parties define people in these parts, so many of the
tombs are painted or covered with coloured tiles that reflect the political
party to which its inhabitant belonged.
The most interesting was a pair of tombs, husband and wife, in different
colours.
After that, a dinner that made us linger
much longer than usual at table, then another early night.
The next morning two other guests and I were
off for a day with a gaucho family in Uguay, about a 45 minute drive from
Pellegrini. There was horse-riding
involved and David opted out. We arrived
at the home of Ramon “Chacho” Ojeda, his wife Mercedes, and their three
daughters, mounted up and headed into the countryside. The first stop was at the home of Eustacio
Gonzalez, an 83-year old who looks years younger and has resisted his
children’s entreaties to move to one of his several houses in Buenos Aires. Chacho told us that Don Eustacio did try it,
but moved back to Uguay within two weeks.
Uguay is not a town in any real
sense. It is an area with 95
inhabitants, all living on farms, that has an elementary school and a
clinic. Chacho has 31 hectares, 7
horses, 4 cows, and 23 sheep. In 2011 he bought a black face sheep to introduce
a new strain because the black face has more meat. He plans to expand his herd in the coming
years.
Next stop was Chacho’s mother-in-law,
Victoriana, who was born on her farm and has lived here her entire life. She greeted us with mate, the traditional
Argentine tea, fried bread, and crackers.
She is a weaver and we saw her loom, spinning wheels—one made from the
base of an old sewing machine—an ancient iron, and wool shears, made about a
century ago by England’s
Sheffield.
In this part of the world, Victoriana is well off: she has 76 hectares,
56 cows, 6 horses, and 90 sheep. Her
husband died a few years ago, so Chacho, Mercedes, and a grandson help her run
the ranch.
The ride out and back was easy and, to my great surprise, my legs and I didn’t suffer any after-effects from three hours
on horse-back. Going and returning we
were treated to the sight of South American Great Rheas eating among the
cattle, burrowing owls, and the South American vizcacha, another, smaller rodent
that lives in burrows.
We arrived back at the lodge in time for
the afternoon bird tour by boat to a different part of Lake Iberá. More birds, caimans, and a brief sighting of
a marsh deer made this a completely different experience from the morning tour.
Before dinner a great white egret landed on the lawn and proceeded to devour a
just-caught fish, which mesmerized me for almost half an hour. It began with a
pristine beak and ended needing a bath.
Three days after arriving, we packed our
bags and headed south. On the way we
stopped to visit the main shrine to one of Argentina’s popular saints, Gaucho
Gil. Now, by “popular saint” I do not
mean one of the usual Catholic saints whose names are familiar. I am talking
about ordinary people who, in death, achieved status as a “saint” in the eyes
of the people. Gaucho Gil was born in Mercedes, 90 minutes south of Carlos Pellegrini, achieved
a reputation as a 19th century Robin Hood—stealing from the rich to
give to the poor—and was ultimately killed for his efforts. Along roadsides throughout north eastern Argentina and
elsewhere in the country, red flags signal a GG shrine. We have encountered them in Chubút, on our drive out to the Peninsula Valdez, and in Mendoza.
No comments:
Post a Comment