I arrived at Iberá by chance, it wasn't planned, but a friend had told me about its beauty and the magnetism of the place.
Its name alone, of Guarani origin, already has its own charm: I-water-, Bera-shining-. I wasn't expecting much, just to find water, mosquitoes and plenty of hot days. Luckily, I was wrong….
Getting to Colonia Carlos Pellegrini (the base town for the Esteros) is already an adventure in itself: 2 to 3 hours of travel on a dirt, gravel road with quite a lot of unevenness, starting from the city of Mercedes, a place I had reached after an 8-hour trip from Buenos Aires.
Along the way, the wildlife was already welcoming us with an endless number of herons, great kiskadees, kingfishers, and the friendly capybaras, or “capibaras” as the Yankees call them.
I arrived very tired at the place where I would be staying that coming week to experience new adventures, but the simple joy of being surrounded by so much greenery made me forget that there, under the blazing sun and heat in the late afternoon, absolutely EVERYONE takes their celebrated siesta, even the animals.
Either way, with all these factors against me, I set out on one of the park's trails. The sun was blazing, the sound of insects could be heard everywhere: crickets, cicadas and little flies kept me company.
From the first lookout point, a giant blanket of water lettuce and duckweed covered much of the lagoon's surface, making it look like, instead of water, I was standing before a beautiful meadow of vegetation. And suddenly, in that majestic green, I spot something strange peeking out from the vegetation, a mix between deer antlers and a cute little Bambi… but swimming in the middle of the water? Yes, that's right. It was the legendary marsh deer, the largest deer species in South America, which has the unique ability to swim and to hear for several kilometers with its huge ears.
Amazed by this discovery, I kept making my way toward the end of the trail when, right in the middle of the path, I came across one of the park rangers moving a two-meter branch against the ground. Surprised, I asked him what he was doing. –It's because the caimans cross right in the middle of the path and are in danger of being stepped on–, he answered. And sure enough, as I heard those words, I saw this prehistoric animal, a meter and a half long (a relative of the crocodile), moving toward the water just a few meters away from us. Wise nature only defends itself when attacked, and this wasn't the case, since this animal knew it was for its own good and therefore never tried to harm us.
Day after day, Iberá kept amazing me, not only with its wildlife, but also with the peace and kindness of its people, who at every moment were more than willing to lend a hand, share a mate, or simply offer a lovely smile.
Finally my week came to an end, but not in just any way. The night before my departure, I managed to cross the beautiful Iberá lagoon from shore to shore by boat. The dark, glittering blanket of the sky accompanied me on this crossing, reminding me once again of the fitting name that its native people had given it long ago….Shining Waters….
