After a day of travelling and border crossings my husband, Bryce, and I gratefully collapse in front of the gateau, load our cake forks with chucks of creamy cake, and scoff. The water falls can wait for the moment. Sheraton Iguazu Resort and Spa is the only hotel situated in Argentina‘s Iguazu National Park, positioned at the edge of one of South America‘s most spectacular sights, Iguazu Falls. The river borders Argentina and Brazil‘s vast sub­tropical forest and dramatically drops 72 metres from a basaltic plate at a phenomenal 1.7 cubic metres per second. The falls spread across two kilometres in a myriad of individual continuous cascades, the largest, and most impressive being, Garganta del Diablo, the Devil‘s Throat. UNESCO named Iguazu National Park a world heritage site in 1984 because of the outstanding beauty and biodiversity of its subtropical forest. With high humidity and warm summer temperatures the forest is richly endowed with 2000 identified species of native flora including orchids, bromeliads, ferns and palms. It‘s also the habitat of 450 different birds, 80 mammals of which five are from the feline family and countless butterflies. The enormous floor to ceiling windows of the hotel bar, lounge and dining room allow views beyond the pool and across a canopy of evergreen forest. There is a dense cloud like spray billowing up as if from a boiling cauldron.

At eight in the morning, when the park opens, we stride along the lower circuit path, leading down through bush towards Iguazu River. It‘s calm and everything appears still but we hear the sound of rumbling water in the distance. Small, vibrantly coloured birds flit across branches and tiny lizards dart off the path while a small ginger­coloured squirrel dashes up a tree trunk and out of view. The path rises slightly onto a metal walkway and through its diamond­patterned base we view the ground under us. What appears to be moving foliage is an iguana lizard, cleverly disguised and merging with shades of decaying leaves. After pausing to look at us it scampers out from under the track churning dry leaves in its wake. Black vultures, with turkey­like faces and saggy necks peer down from high branches as the track turns past Lanusse and Alvar Nunez falls, both spilling volumes of glistening water from gullies above and pounding down onto worn rocks metres below. The path leads into a clearing and the vast enormity of Iguazu opens up to us; it‘s a picture of breathtaking beauty and power. San Martin Island is positioned between two sides of the Iguazu River. The left side forms half of a deep gorge spilling with waterfalls, while on the other side the gorge is bound by cliffs on the Brazilian border. Up­river, at the base of the gorge, there is the spectacular semi­circle of high, gurgling, spurting spray from the Devil‘s Throat. To the right of San Martin Island, framed through trunks of palm trees, we see a wider semi­circle of cascading waterfalls, each separated by glossy green grass and jagged rocks. The pure white billowing falls of San Martin, the most powerful in this grouping, is tucked into the side of the island. A toco toucan, one of five toucan species in the park, flies overhead. Its bill, tropical shades of red, orange and yellow, looks almost equal in length to its body, which is covered in black and white plumage. A grating sound behind us is from a coat muzzling its snout into a rubbish bin. It‘s like a racoon, except for its long nose and tail. It realises it‘s being watched and scuttles away into the trees. The track continues towards the wide semi­circle of falls ending at the base of Bossetti Falls, where cascading water sprays across the lookout deck. From the platform we are mesmerised by San Martin Falls continuously dumping huge volumes of water in an ever­changing pattern, while below us brightly winged butterflies flit about and a hovering hummingbird sucks nectar from a funnel­shaped flower. A catwalk on an upper circuit takes pedestrians above the cliff ledge. On one side we see a flat but fast­flowing river while the other side hovers over the sheer drop of spectacularly falling water. The two tracks link to a train junction, the main arrival point for those staying at Puerto Iguazu the fall‘s closet town. It‘s buzzing with excitement as visitors draped with video recorders and cameras arrive in a small train from the park‘s main entrance. Guides wave quirky umbrellas high above their heads signalling for their tour parties to assemble and an empty train arrives from the other direction, waiting to transport people to the Garganta del Diablo.

Its metal wheels grate and squeak past continuous greenery but it‘s not long before we disembark from the train and take a catwalk across Rio Iguazu‘s horizontal fastmoving surface. Excitement heightens on the walkway and those returning from Garganta del Diablo have dripping hair, spray­dabbled faces and broad smiles. The roaring from the falls becomes deafening as we reach the viewing deck and we are awe­struck by the vastness, the enormous volumes of water and the energy as the torrents pour over the cliff edge. It‘s impossible to see the base as crashing water and escalating spray constantly erupts from below. Dusky swallows turn and curve like ribbons, diving under sheets of falling water, gracefully emerging moments later. Perched on top of wooden ladders in the centre of the deck are photographers wearing khaki­coloured outfits, holding out samples their images, protected by plastic­covered sheets. Honeymooners, families and friends lean back against a railing posing as the falls bucket­down behind them. The photographer lifts a piece of card protecting the lens front from spray, for one second, just long enough to catch a snap. Every few minutes a gentle wind sweeps spray over the deck prompting squeals from caught spectators. Near the end of the day, when the park begins to empty, I spot four coatis up a tree. Their heads poke out among leaves as they gorge round, yellow fruit, discarding their leftovers to splat on the track below. A toucan buries its bill deep inside a palm while an iguana scuttles across grass. We walk on through the forest where, peering through jiggling branches above, we see the coca­coloured faces of capuchin monkeys as they duck and dive overhead. Twigs and leaves scatter onto the path. We leave the park overwhelmed by its energy and beauty. Back at the hotel it­s time for pre­dinner drinks, and we sit and watch the Devils Throat in the distance before it disappears into dark. When we can‘t see it any more we remember the chocolate gateau. Back in our room we make a bigger dent in the cake and drink a toast to an unforgettable birthday.