From My Notebooks In 1974: San Ignacio
27th September 2026 |
I crossed the river and entered Argentina with a minimum of fuss and took the road south through the heavily forested State of Misiones, where the Spanish Jesuits had established some of their missions in the 17th century.
September 11th
Customs on both sides of Iguaçu are minimal. Not interested in my papers at all. What a contrast with Fortaleza.
Dirt road starts at T-junction with tar road joining Foz with Cataras and gives little trouble except dust for 30 kms or so. Ride south on dirt road through forest. Birds with split tails hover above. Prices about half, it seems. Loose stones on road, heavy red dust clouds. Strap breaks on tank bag. Hit a swarm of bees. Notice how slow my reflexes are, or seem to be.
Soldiers stop me at wooden bridge, but quite regular. This is obviously a timber producing area, just like second half of Paraná. Lorries loaded with logs pass by, there are cleared areas in forest, some also replanted with coniferous saplings. Pass a sawmill on right.
Before Eldorado I see sign “Permitido Acampar.” Not quite sure what it means and assume it’s offering a piece of ground on the right just before a bridge over a river. Across road is a bar/comedor where I could eat and I go across there to see if I could get some supper. Three dark and uncommunicative people sit by open window on far side. I ask about “jantar” forgetting that in Spanish it’s “cenar” They seem to understand and nod. They say I can camp here, pointing to grass at back with see-saw and swings, and landscaped terrace leading down to river. They show no interest or enthusiasm. I can’t help expecting some trick. Perhaps they’ll charge for camping. Maybe food’s rotten.
Down to river – Paraythini – to splash water on my dusty face. Into restaurant. Group speaking German. Place has huge wooden ceiling, unsupported. Delicatessen-type cold cupboards. More Germans. Dinner has German style salad. Blonde people rush in – men with widow’s peaks. Boys close-cropped golden hair. Then music blasts out – German ballads. I’m in Germany.
Talk to owner in German. Grandfather came after first world war. Also a bit of Swedish. Says 80 per cent of population of Misiones is European and majority are German, with some English, Italians, etc. German schools. He comes from Paraguay didn’t speak Spanish till he was 7 years old. Says since a year everything has gone to pot. Fixed prices, fixed wages. Wife has 60 hectares of the best oranges in the world left to rot because can’t afford labourers’ wages. Has to buy wine at 4.70 pesos and sell it at 4.50. Result, no wine. Says can’t get oil, meat, screws, all sorts of things. Says he hears that it’s the Jews in the South who own the basic industries – iron, copper, etc – who are running the economy for their profit. Believes that Argentina will split in two, like Vietnam. Agricultural North can’t work without Industrial South. Dictatorship is the answer. [He got his wish – be careful what you wish for!]
Happy to talk. Gives me whisky.
Next morning I was shown the roof. It’s made entirely of six -inch rough planking and nails. Planks are in sandwiches of three. [I made a drawing of it.]
September 12th
Shook dew off my tent and fly-sheet, packed up, shaved in empty motel room, had breakfast (5 pesos) and left for San Ignacio [Famous ruins of a mission]. Passed many orange groves, lemons, tea fields (like fields of clipped hedges). Lorries with sacks of green leaves pass by – probably yerba. Also oranges in trucks. Cattle on rough pasture, with shallow pools of water, Ibis and similar larger bird and many varieties of other birds, hawks, owls, kingfisher, plover, many waterbirds, storks (rather grubby, black and white) little birds all red or yellow with red faces, etc. etc.
San Ignacio as I saw it. It’s a UNESCO world heritage site now.
