A few kilometres from Buenos Aires, at the North-West of the city, is the town of Tigre : more exactly at the mouth of the rivers Paraguay and Parana. Place astonishing and completely disorientating for Europeans we are. If the town of Buenos Aires is inspired, by its urban architecture, from the European and North-American megalopoles, Tigre plunges us in the middle of South America: that of large forests, multicoloured huts drawn up on their piles, hardly emerging from a choking and luxuriant vegetation.
In the middle of the tentacular roots, the rivers seek a passage to emerge in Rio, formed by hundreds of arm (streams), in a delta which does not have anything to envy the bayou of Louisiana. During November 2005, we had visited this place under an overpowering heat, a deep blue sky: we had returned dazzled from there. We are gone back there this time whereas the storm threatened. Result: a completely different vision, but always same fascination.
In the middle of the tentacular roots, the rivers seek a passage to emerge in Rio, formed by hundreds of arm (streams), in a delta which does not have anything to envy the bayou of Louisiana. During November 2005, we had visited this place under an overpowering heat, a deep blue sky: we had returned dazzled from there. We are gone back there this time whereas the storm threatened. Result: a completely different vision, but always same fascination.
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