Unlike Asuncion, you, dear reader, are reasonably
likely to wind up one day in Argentina’s northernmost province of Misiones. Puerto Iguazu
is the jumping off point for the National Park that offers spectacular views of
the world’s greatest waterfall and it's also the richest birding region of Argentina.
I know we're here for birds, but some quick thoughts on the waterfall are in order. In reality, Iguazu is a sprawling complex of
more than 100 individual cascades. Extensive networks of boardwalks on both
Argentinian and Brazilian sides give visitors terrifyingly close views of so
many gushing torrents. So much water vapor hangs in the air that every view is
inevitably embellished by a perfect rainbow adding to the overall sense of
magic to the place.
It's hard to do this place justice with photos, but here's a small part of Iguazu Falls
The magic is somewhat dampened by the crush of crowds. We
happened to visit during an Argentinian holiday, so families with noisy and
unruly children were especially dense. We were able to circumvent the worst of
the frustrations by queuing up at the entrance prior to opening. And despite the throngs, the park was
actually rather birdy.
Eared Pygmy-Tyrant, Iguazu Falls
Plush-crested Jays are trash birds at Iguazu. Literally. They stand on the railings hoping the tourists will feed them trash.
One bird highlight are the Great Dusky Swifts which are endemic to the area.
Great Dusky Swifts nest at Garganta del Diablo (the Devil's Throat), the most intense part of the falls, accessible from the Argentinian side via a long elevated boardwalk. Obsessive birders justify visiting the waterfall by the opportunity to tick this unremarkable birder's bird.
But for some more serious birding we knew we would have to
get off the beaten track a bit. After suffering with no guide in Bolivia and an inept guide in Paraguay, we were keen to make the most of our time in the
Atlantic Forest of Misiones and coughed up some serious cash for a 5-day tour
with Ornithologist and renowned bird guide, Guy Cox.
Our 5-day route with Guy Cox, starting in Puerto Iguazu (A), birding the Iguazu National Park (B), camping at Parque Provincial Urugua'i (C), a cushy stay at Reserva Karadya (D), then backtracking north to lovely Surucua Lodge (E), then a long haul south to Guy's place in San Pedro (F) for birding in Parque Provincial Araucaria just behind his house and nearby Cruce Caballero (G). After we left Guy we stayed a night at the inferior San Sebastian across the road from Karadya (D) before crossing into Brazil back at Puerto Iguazu (A).
Guy, his doggie, us and his unreliable van
A quick aside about the Argentinian economy: the nation is
still suffering (or at least was in July 2016) from the latest in what seems to be a never-ending series of
economic/financial crises. I had always heard about how these tend to make
things cheap for anybody possessing a much-coveted stable foreign currency, but the
situation appeared to be the opposite, with everybody charging based on what
they anticipate to be the diminished value of the peso 3 months down the road.
Basically most things cost about the same as the would in North Carolina,
except that the largest denomination note, the 100 peso bill, is worth about
$7. So one must carry around absurd wads of cash. 21st century hyperinflation!
After getting a handle on the actual cost of Argentinian
goods and services, we realized Guy wasn’t completely ripping us off (as I had
wondered when he first sent the quote). And for birds, he’s certainly the real
deal. Guy has decades of experience with ornithological work in Peru and
Bolivia, rubbing elbows with the late great Ted Parker. He’s somebody whose
identifications can been trusted.
We asked Guy for the cheapest tour possible, which meant we
cut quite a few corners in terms of food and accommodation. We signed up to
stay one night camping and one night sleeping on the floor of Guy’s house. The two other nights were spent at rather
luxurious eco-lodges, so the contrasts were rather stark. Guy’s strengths
certainly lie with birds and not hospitality, so I’d certainly recommend you
weigh your wallet and options carefully before making the arrangement we did.
Before the tour began, we visited the Jardin de los Picaflores—a
can’t miss, for the birder or photographer.
Swallow-tailed Hummingbird, the coolest and rarest of the eight regular hummers present at Jardin de Los Picaflores in winter
Guy picked us up at our aptly named ‘Swift Hotel’ in his
boxy green van to bird along the old Iguazu park entrance road. This is
ideal for birding as the road gets little traffic and offers great views of the
forest edge and canopy. But just an hour into our tour the wheels literally
fell off the wagon. While navigating a three-point-turn, Guy announced a
problem and jumped out to investigate. His gentle English lilt didn’t break,
but when he sputtered his third consecutive “Oh dear…” we knew there was a
serious problem.
Guy's van, even while at peak performance isn't exactly a dream boat. The inside reeks of diesel and burnt oil and the cacophony from the motor make conversations difficult, which is a shame because Guy's an interesting guy to talk to. He told us he's looking to unload this box and get a new bird-mobile (we wish him luck with that!!)
So we left Guy to sort out his broken axel strut and
continued birding along the road on foot. Thankfully it was pretty birdy, so we didn’t
have to roll our eyes at each other to entertain ourselves. Incredibly, Guy
managed to get a taxi into town for the replacement part, make it back to the
vehicle and get it mended in about 3 hours, so we were back on track without
too much of a loss. Give him some credit for resourcefulness.
This Rusty-breasted Nunlet tried to keep us entertained by sitting completely still (as nun/puff-things are want to do)
This Streaked Xenops was a bit livelier, giving us some nest excavation action.
With the van mended, we headed for Urugua'i, an important area for some targets that like dense bamboo thickets.
This site has some sort of weird microclimate going which reminded us that we
were no longer properly in the tropics. It was cold and foggy, so terrible conditions for photos, but the birds were interesting. We had a Sharp-tailed Streamcreeper working a concrete edge just by the highway overpass and saw Rufous Gnateater along the trail loop.
We weren’t well-prepared for camping in
near-freezing conditions and so had a rough night huddled together under filthy
blankets in the back of Guy’s van (he stayed in a tent). This was after an
uninspired dinner of canned sardines. Guy’s a far better birder than he is a
chef. Thankfully Natalia had anticipated this problem and bought some crackers
and soup earlier (she hates canned fish).
In the morning we were treated to some sunshine and a beautiful pair of Blond-crested Woodpeckers made a happy interruption to our breakfast. After birding the trails at Urugua'i and getting some targets, like the Blackish-blue Seedeater and White-eyed Foliage-Gleaner (both regional endemics and bamboo specialists) we
continued onward.
At Bio Reserva Karadya the manager and resident birder, Julian, rolled out the red carpet for us. He served us a delicious lunch and then showed us to our tower room, which has a
roof deck serving as a canopy tower. The
moment we arrived, a mixed species flock happened to be working the area.
The VIP canopy tower penthouse at Karadya. Highly recommended.
Instead of American Robins there are Rufous-bellied Thrushes in Misiones.
We didn't score a ton of specialist/target birds at Karadya for whatever reason, but the food was so good we didn't care. This Variable Antshrike put in a special effort to make us happy and that can go a long way.
It turns out Julian is an ornithologist himself, and in between serving
up insanely delicious meals would lead us to spots for tricky target species,
like Planalto Tapaculo or White-shouldered Fire-eye. While we ate he would
tell us about the Harpy Eagle nest he used to monitor—the last known breeding
record for Argentina. Sadly the nesting site has since been abandoned. He also showed us a frozen carcass of a
Violacious Quail-Dove, which crashed into one of the lodge’s windows. Once
accepted by the authorities it will be Argentina’s first official record of the
species.
Argentina's first record of Violacious Quail-Dove. More proof that inanimate objects are better field biologists that people.
We would have gladly stayed several days with Julian, but we
had other sites to see, so no time to delay.
Luckily we found our top target in the gardens behind the lodge at the
last minute: a flock of Saffron Toucanets.
This Saffron Toucanet showed up with a flock in the gardens at Karadya, the only ones we saw on the tour.
Our next stop was the Surucua Lodge, named for the Surucua
Trogon.
On the road to Surucua there were some fruiting trees loaded with Toco Toucans (at least 20), so we stopped for the obligatory picture of this common but iconic bird.
The male Surucua Trogon for which Surucua Lodge is named.
Female Surucua. Trogons are just as easy to photograph in Argentina as they are in the rest of the Americas.
This lodge is gorgeous and
boasts an extensive network of trails through pristine forest abutting the Iguazu River as the trogon flies, not too far upstream from Iguazu Falls. The
food was exquisite, rivaling that of Karadya and the couple who own/manage the place bent over backwards
to make sure our every need was met. Laura did the cooking and Adrian came out with us birding. It always helps to have a local birder on hand
to help with targeting and we knocked off many of the species that had eluded
us in previous days.
Bertoni's Antbirds never stop moving, so it took a good bit of effort to catch one in frame without stick-face
This Gray-hooded Flycatcher decided to come sit on a branch within 5 meters of us, so I was able to catch a decent shot despite the poor light.
Band-tailed Manakin is arguably one of Misiones' prettiest birds. Thankfully, they're fairly common.
A puddle next to the Surucua Lodge has an attendant Rufescent Tiger-Heron (juvie)
Large-headed Flatbill... maybe it's the angle of the photo, but the head didn't seem to be especially large. One of those names an uninspired taxonomist with calipers came up with.
Best of all was the Spot-billed Toucanet, which I finally
managed to spot in the canopy after we had been frantically trying to locate an
unseen calling bird overhead.
Spot-billed Toucanet way up in the canopy at Surucua
Surucua Lodge was another spot where we would have been glad
to linger for several days, but on we went to Guy’s House in the ramshackle
town of San Pedro. The trash-strewn dirt street haunted by stray dogs gives the
area a bit of an un-enticing appearance. The aesthetic of Guy’s house matches
that of the surrounding town. As he attempted to make order of the chaos inside
and meet the demands of his wife and two children he advised us to find
something to cook ourselves for dinner. His guest quarters are a mattress on
the floor with dirty blankets and he struggled to find us towels so we could
shower.
I’ve certainly done my time living in squalor and wouldn’t
begrudge Guy for helping us save money by letting us stay at his place, but the
conditions were a bit of a shock following on the heels of the pampering we had
received at Karadya and Surucua.
The reward for enduring a stay at Guy’s place is that his backyard is,
literally the entrance to Parque Provincial Araucaria, one of the few remnant patches of
Dr. Suess-like Araucaria trees. Long favored by loggers for their tall,
straight and branchless trunks, these trees have been all but driven to
extinction (97% loss). A few obligate bird species cling to existence in the remnants,
such as the Vinaceous-breasted Parrot, an endangered bird that exists
almost exclusively behind Guy’s house.
Araucaria angustifolia or 'Candalabra Pine,' a critically endangered tree
The park behind Guy’s house also contains a few rare patches
of cane, where, if you can dodge the truant children, loose dogs and mentally
ill bums, you might be able to glimpse the Canebrake Groundcreeper. After some
persistence and playback we were able to get decent looks at one.
The only place we had Red-breasted Toucan, the last toucan we needed in Argentina, was in Guy's yard.
Red-breasted Toucan were flocking to the planted fruit trees near Guy's house
San Pedro is just down the road from another important remnant of Araucaria trees at Parque Provincial Cruce Caballero. We birded here on our final morning with Guy and were disappointed to find the trails dead silent. Where were all the birds? Of course when we returned to the parking lot, the activity was manic, proving one of Natalia's favorite birding axioms: the best birds are always in the parking lot to reward the lazy.
Our third Rusty-breasted Nunlet of the trip. We couldn't seem to avoid these things.
Here we had the most special of specialists, the Araucaria Tit-Spinetail.
Araucaria Tit-Spinetail is completely dependent on the critically endangered Candalabra Pine, and yet the bird is only listed as Near-threatened... c;mon IUCN; what the hell.
We also scored a pair of Pavonine Cuckoo thanks to Guy's keen ear.
Singing Pavonine Cuckoo through the tangle
After one more swing through the Araucaria our tour with Guy ended, inconveniently enough with us stranded in San Pedro. Guy was nice enough to give us a small refund for the delay on the first morning, which ended up being just enough to buy us a taxi ride part way back north toward Puerto Iguazu. We had an extra day to bird, so we stopped at San Sebastian de la Selva, the across the street competition to Karadya.
The food at San Sebastian has nothing on Karadya or Surucua, but bird-wise it filled some important niches that the other sites had left empty. The layout is totally different than other places we had visited, with the gardens surrounding the cabins and lodge mostly open with a network of ponds of various sizes teaming with Capybara. Rounding a bend you would hear a terrifying splash only to realize it was just one of the gigantic pig-rats plunging into a pond.
Anyway, the water and surrounded shrubs attracted different types of scrub and edge birds (not lifers, but new for the trip) and then the feeders outside the dining area were very well-managed, providing some excellent photographic opportunities while waiting for lunch.
Blue-and-yellow Tanager, a feeder bird at San Sebastian
Chalk-browed Mockingbird, another feeder bird
Green-headed Tanager, gem of the San Sebastian feeders
The good forest with important bamboo patches takes a bit of hiking uphill to reach, but if you arrange with the resident guide, Nene, he'll drive you up in his 4x4. Nene is clearly used to taking out hard core birders, as he knows how to tape out the specialist species. He showed us Variegated Antpitta and the Ocellated Bamboo-Wren (we dipped on the Speckled-breasted Antpitta, though). But Nene's a bit unpolished as far as guides go. His speaker system was belching out skull-splitting static, so he ended up using our iPod/speaker setup to call birds (lucky we had it!). But far worse was when he left us waiting shivering in the pre-dawn cold for him to emerge to take us birding. Why set a meeting time you aren't capable of making? When he did finally show up he didn't even seem to realize he was late or that being late was a problem.
Generally, the experience one has staying at San Sebastian is one of irrelevance. Nene and his wife seemed completely ambivalent about our presence or happiness. I guess that's what happens when the owners of a place are absentee and leave others behind to manage. The price certainly doesn't reflect that this place is several notches below the other local lodges. Nevertheless, we still picked up six lifers here in 24 hours after five days of birding the region and it's got the best feeder setup.
We were able to catch a bus back to Puerto Iguazu and make our way into Brazil for a series of flights back to the US.
This concludes our post-graduation tour of South America. I hope you've enjoyed the arm chair ride!
