Rosie and The Operator walk towards the Port of Tigre, a town of 31,000 one hour north of Buenos Aires, to catch a local ferry to take us up the river to Tres Bocas, a riverside community in the heart of the Tigre River Delta.
This day trip was a recommendation from a local café owner who was the only English speaker in Tigre we came across, truth. Over a perfectly crafted flat white she recommended we forgo a tourist trip up the river and take the local passenger ferry to Tres Bocas which she described as a unique small town in the Delta. Rosie can say it was one of the best tips from a local we have ever had! Although it wasn’t quite as we expected when we got there…
Having already discovered the one and only person in the whole of Tigre, who speaks English Rosie busted out her pigeon Spanish and bought two return tickets from the small boat station ticket counter. She was careful to ask also what the return times were to Tigre….Rosie wasn’t planning on getting stuck out of town by missing the last ferry back.
Rosie looks at the map of the Delta, hmmm there could be multiple ways to get to Tres Bocas, I wonder which route the boat will take? I should have asked the ticket man. So, Rosie asks the question in her best Spanglish to a man who has just bought a ticket for the same boat and is sitting in the waiting room next to her.
He looks at the map and starts to gesture all over the show rapid firing Spanish at me. Whoa whoa whoa….sorry I don’t speak Spanish said Rosie. Okay….he said, the only word Rosie recognized in our whole exchange. He then proceeded to explain again, in Spanish, but this time talking very, very slowly, while gesturing all over the map…Yip got that (NOT). Rosie nodded and smiled giving a thumbs up. Gracias. Rosie guesses our journey will just be a surprise.
Its mid morning the Ferry Station in Tigre is pumping with people arriving and leaving. Ques of people come and go as quickly as the boats dock and leave. People are carrying multiple huge bags of groceries, boxes, bikes and gas bottles which all sit on the dock and wait to be loaded onto the roof of the ferries. All supplies must be bought from the town and transported up the river as this is the only town for miles.
The Delta covers an area of 14,000 square kilometers and its system of rivers and streams is a wetlands originating from the Parana River that drains down to the River Plate. The Plate is the huge River that separate’s Argentina from Uruguay before emptying into the sea. The islands are home to some 200,000 people, all living in an area only accessible by boat, some with limited electricity, no running water or sewerage.
The supply boats that service the river communities are tied up in the dock, loaded and ready to head out. On board is water, LPG bottles, charcoal for cooking, beer, bags of onions and potatoes plus other staple supplies. These boats ply the deltas waterways like floating shops where you pull beside them on your own small craft, order and pay for what you want and it is transferred over to you.
The ferries bob in each others wake and line up side by side, sometimes two boats wide. Passengers board sometimes across one boat to get to another and the ferry workers hand load the luggage onto the roof of the ferry. Its all done so quickly and then we are off. Bouncing along the river in the wake of other boats coming and going.
The river is not attractive, it is brown from the alluvial soil of the delta and has an earthy aroma to it. The river swirls and whirls with unknown eddies and you are non the wiser as what is below the surface. The windows of the boat are open, the air is fresh and Rosie and The Operator are bopping to the large, loud sound system that the driver has cranked up and enjoying the view, there is so much to see!
Small motor boats with families on board, single kayaks and even a couple in a wooden rowboat share the river with the ferries and tourist boats and pass by our windows.
On the banks of the river, wharves jut out into the water. Most have little shelters with seats so the owners can sit in the shade or dry and wait for a water taxi or unload their own boats. It is surprising how far some of them stick out into the water. The houses that are at the end of the wharves are set back from the riverbank and most stand on 6 foot high stilts to protect them from the floods that regularly occur.
The Delta is made up of hundreds of low lying mud island made over time by the deposits of silt that wash through the river and accumulate. Sediment is deposited at a rate of 200 million tonnes a year causing the delta to grow in size by 70 – 90 square meters a year. Surrounding these islands are a network of labyrinth like waterways, we pass offshoots on the ferry and they look so mysterious and narrow tapering off into the leafy distance with boats moored up them.
This river network is sadly, for all its beauty one of the most polluted areas in Argentina. Over 12,000 industrial factories dump their untreated waste into the river and, coupled with no sewerage system…all the crap, pun intended, goes straight into the river and is pretty much like a highly toxic open sewer. Rosie wonders if the water glows at night…if anything is living in there….you certainly wouldn’t eat it.
Further along the river we come across the ‘Glass House’ glinting in the light. Yes, Rosie your eyes do not deceive you, that is a huge glass box completely encasing an early style river house.
This famous house was the former abode of the 7th President of Argentina, Domingo Sarmiento, known as the ‘Father of the Classroom’. During his tenure he instigated ambitious policies regarding education, the training of teachers and building new schools. He opened libraries and guaranteed that all education be free to everyone and separate from religious teachings.
Sarmiento lived in this house after his presidency with his family from 1855 until he died in 1888. The Delta at that time was uninhabited, Sarmimento encouraged people to move there and colonise. He planted the first wicker trees which today, is still used for the manufacturing of baskets and furniture and is one of the main income streams of the Delta inhabitants . The trees he planted are still on the property and the house, enshrined for its historical protection still holds some of the original furniture. It is quite an amazing sight from the river and Rosie must say, the windows are sparkling clean.
We stop at various jetties along the way which are official ferry stops. The transfer of passengers and their goods are swift. The wharves along this main stretch of river are subject to the huge flow and ebb of the ferry boats as they pass on the river. The swell crashes into the river banks and most of the boat owners have hoists that they sit their boats on above the river to stop them getting knocked around as they would if they were moored with a rope. It is a pretty awesome sight seeing the boats hoisted up on their sometimes wonky jetty.
We arrive at our destination, Rosie hasn’t seen a sign, its just a jetty that is as innocuous as the hundreds we have already passed. If it wasnt for the captain calling the name of the stop Rosie and The Operator would be non the wiser.
A riverside restaurant that borders the wharf is closed up for the winter and Rosie and The Operator follow the crowd that has just debarked. They must know where the town is, we will follow the leader. Down a narrow concrete path we walked bordered by a hedge and abandoned houses in the fields on either side.
We come to a fork in the road and Rosie is immediately distracted, there is a rickety wooden bridge crossing a tributary straight ahead and to the left is a path that meanders along the small creek. Rosie loves this place already, and immediately starts taking photos…then turns around to The Operator and asks where everybody went? The paths are completely empty, the only noise is the sound of dogs barking somewhere in the distance.
No one went across the bridge said The Operator they all followed the river path….we conferred that that must be the way to go to get to town. What a beautiful walk in the dappled warm sunlight that filtered through the tall trees. The riverside path was thin and on the right were small low jetties sticking out into the river from the bank.
Rosie stepped out onto one to take a picture up the creek….it sagged and groaned under her weight….by the time she realised it probably wasn’t safe she already had her other leg on it and was wobbling away as the wood flexed and groaned. Rosie was too scared to move and feared she was going into the murky river….Ive got you said The Operator, leaning in and grabbing me. Retreat the way you came, next time look at where you are planning on stepping! Across the other side of the path to the left were small wooden houses in large yards, some had a small boat tied to their dock, others had kayaks and canoes lying in their yards with abandoned outdoor furniture with various shades of moss growing on them.
Rosie saw no people but there seemed to be at least one dog to every yard and they were all roaming free. At one stage there must have been five dogs following us down the track….barking in advance to announce to the next yard our pending arrival. Rosie couldn’t understand where all the people had gone…out of about twenty folk that got off our boat and came this way….it was like they all had just melted away. Never mind said Rosie we must come to the town soon, we have been walking for ages.
We came to another fork in the road and looked up new tributaries into nothingness….what the hell?! This is crazy said Rosie, where is the town? I don’t think there is one said The Operator. You have got to be shitting me!!!! Rosie’s voice echoed out into the silent world around her. I looked up restaurants on Tripadvisor back in Tigre, said Rosie, we had one picked out for lunch! Oh, that was across the bridge when we first arrived said The Operator. Why didn’t you tell me! yelled Rosie. You didn’t ask said The Operator.
Rosie spun around, nearly tripped over a dog, and stomped back down the track. The Operator was lucky, Rosie’s grumpiness didn’t last for long, the scenery was too beautiful and tranquil and more photo ops on the return trail were beckoning.
As we headed closer to civilization and Rosie presumed, The Town. Small boats were buzzing up the creek making a small bow wave and rocking the boats tied up to jetties. Everyone was friendly and waved as they motored past…Rosie reckoned under her breathe they were probably wondering where the hell we were going.
Back at the bridge we still haven’t passed another soul walking along the track and it was suddenly as quiet as a tomb, the birds had stopped singing, the dogs had stopped barking and had totally disappeared and the river was still and eerily ominous.
Rosie was starting to feel abit freaked out when all of a sudden, appearing out of the bushes came three kids…each carrying a huge bottle of water on their shoulders…Rosie asks the oldest if we are going the right way to get to El Hornero. Si, he said and pointed up the track in front of us. Thank goodness for that Rosie sighed.
After a few more twists and turns along the narrow river bank path we burst out into a clearing. To the left was the riverside restaurant looking very quiet and abandoned….across the river to our right was a petrol station! Serious! Built on the riverbank and accessible to the river traffic. Awesome.
There were a couple of houses close by that we could see and after that the river just stretched on with more jetties poking out into the water like we have seen so far. Where the hell is the town? said Rosie…I think this it said laughed The Operator, lets see if this place is open, time for a beer.
El Hornero was open, thank goodness, there were a few locals inside having a coffee and a yak we sat outside on their patio in the sun watching the river and the goings on at the petrol station. Believe me, it was humming with business. Only one boat at a time could come up to the pumps and pump gas into their boat. Sometimes there was a queue of about three or four people waiting, all having a chat and catching up as they all seemed to know each other. When they had finished, off they would buzz, up or down the river.
Its winter in Argentina yet the sun, whilst low, is golden yellow and bright in the clear blue sky. Its rays warm you when you are in the full sun, yet, in the shadows you can feel the icy cold. There was not a breath of wind and the warmth just makes you smile. All thoughts of town were forgotten as we basked in the watery glow where we sat, and the silence, well, it was next level awesome. It was so beautiful here, just being in the moment and enjoying sitting and watching this sleepy hollow world unwind around us. This wee restaurant must jump in the summer, this is the picture of the packed terrace on a flyer we found on the table, Rosie was kind of smug we had the place all to ourselves.
A barge with a lifting hook, droned past. Of course building and moving goes on up the river just like in normal life and because the only access is the river…you adapt. The water police parked up at the restaurant dock for coffee in the café. A kayaker slid up and took a table for lunch as did a couple of other guys in a shiny brand new boat that looked like it was on its maiden voyage. The two guys in the boat also looked like it was their first voyage ever and were having great trouble tying a suitable knot to keep the boat secured to the dock.
Next minute Rosie’s gang of dogs had crossed the bridge and rediscovered us! They lay in the sun a few feet away after some unsuccessful scrounging until another dog wandered in from the opposite direction. The pack of four jumped up and all had a dog fight right by the boating newbies dinner table sending it crashing to the ground with glasses and bottles smashing. It gave us a hell of a fright but they seemed to take it all in their stride and never even jumped out of their seats.
The dogs disappeared, the sun was still shining, the glass was cleared away and order was resumed, well said The Operator we had better start walking back to catch our ferry home.
Rosie made a quick trip to El Horneros loos out the back before the journey home…no paper down the toilet, please use the bin provided and if its yellow let it mellow, read the handwritten sign…
Rosie is still not sure what all of these people do out here on the river. None seem self sufficient surrounded by orchards or huge vegetable gardens from what Rosie can see peeking into their smallish yards from the riverside. Some run B&Bs and home stays, a lot of houses are shut up like they are holiday homes, some have kayaks, that have seen better days, for rent. There seems to be nothing going on here…the river is polluted and yuck, you couldn’t while away your time sitting on your dock and fishing. It is totally isolated and when the river is high, goodness knows how you would get by, you would certainly need a lot of supplies for times the river is not passable. I guess if you like the quiet isolation…this is the spot for you.
The thing that Rosie did not expect at all is that there was perfect 4G cell coverage here, and the abundance of personal surveillance cameras attached to the crumbling houses….Rosie guesses the main pastime here is Nexflix then.
What a great day we had exploring this out of the way area of the Tigre Delta and seeing how others live (kind of) off the grid. We had a great walk in the silence, Rosie enjoyed taking pics in the dappled light filtering through the trees and sitting having lunch in peace, watching this part of the world glide by on the river. We still to this day do not know if there is a town…we think not, we are no way disappointed though and are so glad we opted for this option over the one hour tourist trip around a small circuit of the river. Thanks for the recommendation Tazzi!
Tomorrow, we head back into Buenos Aires and plan to have a cruisey afternoon wandering around our suburb of San Telmo and exploring the giant out door Sunday Flea Market, an early night is on the cards in preparation for an early start the next day when we are off to see the mighty Iguazu Falls.
Check out my related blog about Tigre, Argentina – River Port on The Delta
