Wetlands, Islands, and Wildlife
The Paraná—or Tigre—Delta covers a vast area, about 5,500 square miles. It is a place where its eponymous river splits into many narrow waterways, creating a large network of wetlands and islands. The area in and around the town of Tigre, a pleasant provincial town on the fringes of the Buenos Aires, is especially scenic, not to mention cool. That’s why I’ve chosen to spend the day here.Tigre is tantalizingly close to Buenos Aires, easily and painlessly reached by commuter train in about 45 minutes. Yet just a handful of visitors make the trip. Case in point: I didn’t make it out here until my sixth or seventh visit to Buenos Aires.
Like many historic areas, Tigre has lived many lives. This region was wild once, roamed by stealthy jaguars—early settlers mistook these fierce felines for their striped cousins, and they became the namesake “tigers” of Tigre. The British cultivated crops here, and in the late 19th century, the area served as a refuge for those escaping yellow fever in Buenos Aires. Tourism has ebbed and flowed, but in the past decade or so, development has attracted a more monied crowd, drawn to upscale resorts and spas built on the more remote islands.
Remote or Cosmopolitan: You Decide
On the day of my visit, I saw just a fraction of what the Delta in Tigre has to offer while on a morning boat cruise. We rolled away from the developed parts of town, which remain rather touristy, complete with high-rise condos and a theme park replete with rides and rollercoasters.But soon we were in a world of blue and green. We passed several grand buildings, including a Belle Époque castle, and all kinds of half-timbered hulks left behind by the British. A guide narrated the fact that the Delta includes some 30,000 islands.
Between 7,000 and 8,000 people inhabit them, completely cut off from roads. These people have their own lifestyle, one that in many ways is almost entirely aquatic.
“There are about 20 primary schools on the islands,” she noted. “So we don’t have a school bus. We have a school boat.” Making our way along a wide waterway—Main Street, if you will—lots of long, low boats passed us in a hurry to get to their destination. Soon we curled off the primary passage onto a sort of residential drive.
The guide shared that she had lived on these islands and that a home here could be purchased for just a fraction of the cost in the city. But life isn’t easy. There’s no running water, and electricity is usually harvested from solar panels. “And you need to repaint your house twice a year,” she said. “Because of the humidity.”
Each place we passed was its own unique universe. Some houses were grand, others were humble. Each had a dock. It was clear that no zoning laws or homeowners’ associations had a say over the design—the homes’ colors spanned every shade of the rainbow and were built in every architectural style imaginable. People fished, swam, and played with their dogs. They sat with their legs dangling off the dock and waved at us as we passed. We also saw chapels and schools and museums.
We rounded another corner and the rollercoasters loomed back into view. The little cruise was almost finished, but I still had so many questions. What fish were those guys catching? What could I order at the waterside restaurants, for brunch, or lunch, or dinner? Could anyone get a beer off the supermarket boat, or do you need to live here?
The super-heated streets of Buenos Aires awaited me. But one thing remained absolutely clear: I would need to return for more than just a day’s voyage. I needed to answer all those questions and fully enjoy the pleasures—both refined and wild—of Tigre.
