Photo courtesy of ustung.
Many in our group were wary of the walk we had in front of us, unsurprisingly. We still had a couple minutes walk to the Devil’s Throat, and there were some serious doubts about the precarious-looking bridge. I figured, if millions of people have visited Iguazu, like Diego had said, and the park hasn’t been closed, then this walkway is safe enough to walk on. Throughout my walk though, I couldn’t ignore the strong wind beating against my windbreaker and the fast pace of the water below me. The thought of falling in and being swept away and off a rocky edge was pretty much the only one in my head. I could tell the same was true for my friends, especially because one kept reminding me every ten seconds how easy it would be to slip and topple over the waist-high railing.
water under the bridge. photo by Jessie Sherman.
Thankfully, that never happened. We took one last turn, and La Garganta del Diablo revealed itself. Walking onto the tourist platform, I almost tripped over my own feet. All my attention belonged to the powerful white water throwing itself off the edge of the waterfall, exploding into mist as it did so.