Fly, my pretty!

The premise of this blog, that every day brings reminders of and connections to your travel, does mean that there have been a lot of references to world events that are less than cheerful. Terrorist attacks, floods, cyclones, earthquakes, pollution, eruptions... they've all featured here, and will doubtless continue to pop up at fairly depressing intervals. But today we'll take a break.
Today, I saw the first of the seven monarch chrysalises that I've been overseeing hatch into a beautiful butterfly, and I was as delighted and proud as if I'd birthed it myself. Her, in fact - the spots on the wings are the giveaway. It's been a long process, watching them first as hungry caterpillars, munching relentlessly through my swan plants, getting bigger and bigger. Fearful of wasp attacks like those that nixed them all last year, I brought them inside, to be astonished at the volume of poop - frass! - that they produce. Then, suddenly and always while I was looking elsewhere, they became pupae, in elegant green and gold. Long wait, then a colour change, and today, finally, I saw one that had emerged and uncrumpled its - her - wings, getting ready to fly. Magic, and a miracle, and a marvel, truly.

And of course, it reminded me of somewhere I've been: Iguassu Falls in Argentina/Brazil/Paraguay, where the magnificent, astonishing, overwhelming size and volume of the waterfalls were offset by the small, delicate and dainty beauty of the yellow butterflies that flocked to drink from a muddy puddle beside the path.

Dam fine

More cute coatis on the way to breakfast this morning. I'm soldiering on through epic jet lag and off-the-scale blood iron thanks to a paleolithic intake of red meat: possibly a connection? Who knows. Anyway, after yesterday's 'Whoa, nature showing off, here' moments with the waterfalls, today was about how man can whip up the odd marvel too, given some time and co-operation. So we were taken to the Itaipu Dam, 65 storeys high, 18km long, 20 turbines using 10 times the volume of the Falls... er, an hour? a day? The statistics became a blur, after a movie, a bus tour, the commentary - what is more impressive, is that it's a bi-national project by Brazil and Paraguay, the river forming their border. The construction, the maintenance, the power, they're all split 50:50 in a shining example of international co-operation.

Then lunchtime brought another revelation: my first churrascaria, a barbecue restaurant where you fill your plate with a selection of fresh salads and vegetables (or chips) and then a succession of waiters arrive at your table with what could be a heart attack on a stick, but is so delicious, who cares? We were offered from long skewers every type of barbecued meat imaginable, and some not (like chicken hearts) - filet mignon, rump steak, pork tenderloin, lamb, plus onions, cheese balls, sausages... all hot and crusty outside and meltingly tender inside. Delicious! And afterwards the completely unnecessary dessert selection recalled the very best in children's parties, with every permutation of sugar and cream possible. And it was only lunchtime!

At the bird park my zip toggle was gently examined by a toucan with his huge orange beak; a rhea came rushing excitably up to the fence and immediately fell asleep leaning against it; blue and yellow macaws swooped low overhead; we were frowned at by a harpy eagle and, happily, ignored by a large hairy tarantula; we went crazy trying to focus on super fast-forward hummingbirds and were draped with an anaconda; and my camera got into a snit and let me down, sniff.