Brazilian Waterfalls: Is Bigger Better?

The disproportionate size of top-models and 3,000-member samba schools in Rio's Sambadrome parade may explain why such mega-spectacles seldom fascinate me. Smaller-scaled, more accessible women and carnival street processions enchant me more. The same is true for waterfalls. A unique spill of water over rock can, for me, transcend even the sensation offered by Iguaçu Falls.

Sure, Iguaçu is breathtaking. But its scale keeps you at a distance. Aren't less stupendous waterfalls that massage your back, shower off your sweat, give you a swimming hole, more inviting? After all, what’s the point of spending hours hiking to a falls that you can't get wet in, can't interact with? Isn't it similar to the difference between ogling a celebrity and being seduced by someone you've just met?

In Jaciara in Mato Grosso state, I was lured into a cave by a voluminous gush of water which fell through a hole in its ceiling into a big depression created by the pounding falls. All that pounding had created a frothing cauldron of bubbles that fit seven people. Iguaçu offers a lot, but not a natural jacuzzi, unless you have a death wish.

What made the Cachoeirinha waterfall in the Ibitipoca state park in Minas Gerais so enticing was its color and its context. Mineral deposits give the park's rivers a sparkling, dark-golden hue enhanced by limestone beds. And because Cachoeirinha, a Coca-Cola-colored stream falling over a cream-colored ledge, requires a four-hour trek through dry, barren savannah, it is an oasis.

Cachoeirinha made me a waterfall freak, a human bloodhound sniffing around the countryside for these sporadic pieces of paradise. And because I have no preconceived image of paradise, each version of it I find is a revelation and an exclusive vision - because nearly everyone else is at the beach.

"Indiana Jones,” a falls near São Pedro da Serra in Rio de Janeiro state, was one such revelation. As I waded around the bend of a river canyon, three round, evenly-spaced, boulders - the size of the one that chased Indiana Jones - bridged its narrow walls, carved out by the falls behind them.

A falls in the Serra da Bocaina, which borders Rio and São Paulo state, also left me with my mouth open. After hiking through Atlantic Rainforest to a stream flowing over a precipice, no perch existed for seeing the falls. So I floated in the stream and waited for the clouds to lift. When they did, they unveiled the entire Angra dos Reis bay, its many islands, and Ilha Grande in the background.

Many of the world's marvels, natural or not, are not monumental. These little jewels are bewitching because their reduced scale invites you to interact with them and wake up your senses. Marvels - be they waterfalls, carnival processions, or members of the opposite sex - don't need to be "mega" to make you say "wow!" A vertical column of water can even be more enchanting if it is exclusive, if the only other person with whom you share it is also a marvel.

Michael Kepp, a U.S. journalist living in Brazil for over two decades, is the author of a book of essays "Sohando com Sotaque: Confissões e Desabafos de um Gringo Brasileiro," (Dreaming in an Accent: The Confessions and Critiques of a Brazilian Gringo), published by Editora Record. Order Sonhando com Sotaque from Livraria Cultura (in Portuguese). Learn more about Mike Kepp and his work on his official website. This article first appeared in the Brazilian daily newspaper Folha de São Paulo on February 7, 2008

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