No posts for a long time because I am having a nice time and when you have a nice time you don't give a shit about going on a computer.
Alright, so I took a 24 hour bus from Ciudad Bolívar to Mérida, an Andean Venezuelan city with copsmopolitan (well, as far as Venezuela goes) atmosphere. Set in a valley at about 1800 meters elavation, Mérida has a much differnet feel than the other Venezuelan cities I've encountered. I arrived with the two Englishboys, Jesse and Joel, hereinafter refered to as Dingus and Dingus. We met their buddy, a Torontonian named Glan, hereinafter refered to as Dingus, in Mérida and the scene was set.
We took the teleférico up to the top and then back down to the second-to-last station. The top station is at 4800m. You start from about 1600m altitude, so this is the tallest and longest cable-car in the world. We hiked about four hours to an isolated little town of about a hundred people called los Nevados. After some rum and tuna in the evening, the next morning mules were ordered and it was on their backs that we made it back to the cable-cars to come down.
Not much time, so I'll leave it there.
13 June, 2008
02 June, 2008
Canaima National Park and Saltó Angel
On Friday morning I took a one hour six-seater Cessna flight to Canaima, a small Pemón native village accessible only by air. The landscape slowly changed from dry hills to intense green valleys and massive tepuís, table-top mountains. My diverse and fun group for the tour consisted of 3 Brits, 5 Venezuelans, 1 Kiwi, 1 German, 1 French, 1 Spanish, and me. There, I went swimming in Canaima lagoon, which is fed by several large waterfalls. We took a traditional canoe, with a 70hp motor, accross the lagoon and then hiked to a nearby falls that was fed by the lagoon. There, we walked under, and a little bit through, the falls to rocks on the other side. In the evening, we stayed in Canaima town and drank the rum we brought with other travellers and the locals.
The big day was Saturday. We travelled up the river from Canaima towards the falls, flanking the Auyantepui. Stopping for lunch, we took a dip in the river, knowing the falls weren't far off. As it appeared in the distance, we approached with anticipation the hike to the falls. After a 45-minute scramble up the path to the lookout, we made it and saw Angel Falls in all its glory.
There is not much I can say to give you a true understanding of the magnitude of the falls. By about 20% of the way down, the water is already a thick mist. Any attempt at following the trajectory of a large drop is in vain. An amazing sight that must be seen to be understood.
I will leave it to the photos to explain...
29 May, 2008
Por Puesto Taxi from Puerto la Cruz to Ciudad Bolivar
I went to Playa el Agua on my last day on Isla de Margarita. Very beautiful beach lined with patio chairs, parasols, bars, restaurants, and palm trees. On the way back to Porlamar, I passed a Chavista rally in Plaza Bolivar. The mood was festive, but my stomache was empty, apart from the rum and Soleras, so I didn't stay long.
The next morning (yesterday) I awoke early and caught a bus and then a ferry to Puerto la Cruz. I taxi'd to the central bus station to be informed that the 16:00 bus has already been filled. I questioned the factuality of this, but checked with a few companies in the chaotic bus terminal and confirmed what I had been told. A por puesto taxi to Ciudad Bolivar for 50BsF, marginally more than the bus, leaving as soon as it found one more person, was offered to me by an agressive old man. So I went with the old guy who presented me to the driver, asked the driver to show me the other people in the group, a tired-looking old lady and a clean-cut middle-aged man, and off we went.
Traffic was heavy through Puerto la Cruz and Barcelona (which, although I have never been to its European counterpart, I am sure does not resemble in the least its Spanish namesake) and we pulled off for gas. Three Bolivar Fuerte (about CDN$1) to fill the little Fiat's tank up. The driver dodged cars, hawkers and motorcycles in the congested traffic as his played with his cell phone, trying to charge up its credit.
As we hit the highway, it became apparent that he was more than your average Venezuelan driver. I chewed my gum faster and with greater force as we made pass after courageous pass on the 2-lane barrier-less road. Then the rain started down hard. If the car in front was not doing 160km/h, it would be passed at the earliest possible moment. The compact Fiat's tachometer never dropped below 5000 RPM. My gum became plastic and my jaw started to hurt.
Sitting diagonal to the driver, in the back, I looked over at him before one particularly gutsy pre-hillcrest pass of a line of moving trucks to see him making a cross with his right hand accross his chest. It was clear that he was reassured in teh knowledge that Jesus would guide our way past the line of vehicles. I was notably less reassured. My Trident gum was a rock and I my jaw began to throb.
Eventually the rain let up and two lanes became four on the highway. The noble Fiat mangaged 190km/h downhill, and maybe 170 up.
We arrived at Ciudad Bolivar in under three hours, a trip that, for the average fearless Venezuelan driver, takes four.
I am now staying in Posada Amor Patria, the greatest and cheapest place I've stayed so far in Venezuela. Central Ciudad Bolivar is well-restored and very beautiful.
Tomorrow: Canaima and Angel Falls!
The next morning (yesterday) I awoke early and caught a bus and then a ferry to Puerto la Cruz. I taxi'd to the central bus station to be informed that the 16:00 bus has already been filled. I questioned the factuality of this, but checked with a few companies in the chaotic bus terminal and confirmed what I had been told. A por puesto taxi to Ciudad Bolivar for 50BsF, marginally more than the bus, leaving as soon as it found one more person, was offered to me by an agressive old man. So I went with the old guy who presented me to the driver, asked the driver to show me the other people in the group, a tired-looking old lady and a clean-cut middle-aged man, and off we went.
Traffic was heavy through Puerto la Cruz and Barcelona (which, although I have never been to its European counterpart, I am sure does not resemble in the least its Spanish namesake) and we pulled off for gas. Three Bolivar Fuerte (about CDN$1) to fill the little Fiat's tank up. The driver dodged cars, hawkers and motorcycles in the congested traffic as his played with his cell phone, trying to charge up its credit.
As we hit the highway, it became apparent that he was more than your average Venezuelan driver. I chewed my gum faster and with greater force as we made pass after courageous pass on the 2-lane barrier-less road. Then the rain started down hard. If the car in front was not doing 160km/h, it would be passed at the earliest possible moment. The compact Fiat's tachometer never dropped below 5000 RPM. My gum became plastic and my jaw started to hurt.
Sitting diagonal to the driver, in the back, I looked over at him before one particularly gutsy pre-hillcrest pass of a line of moving trucks to see him making a cross with his right hand accross his chest. It was clear that he was reassured in teh knowledge that Jesus would guide our way past the line of vehicles. I was notably less reassured. My Trident gum was a rock and I my jaw began to throb.
Eventually the rain let up and two lanes became four on the highway. The noble Fiat mangaged 190km/h downhill, and maybe 170 up.
We arrived at Ciudad Bolivar in under three hours, a trip that, for the average fearless Venezuelan driver, takes four.
I am now staying in Posada Amor Patria, the greatest and cheapest place I've stayed so far in Venezuela. Central Ciudad Bolivar is well-restored and very beautiful.
Tomorrow: Canaima and Angel Falls!
26 May, 2008
Puerto La Cruz & Isla de Margarita
I partied until dawn with Frane and friends on Friday night, drinking Diplomático rum with club soda and dancing reggaeton in the sala de fiesta of a Caracas appartment building. And then I missed my morning bus and took a later one from Caracas to Puerto La Cruz. Buscamas, bed-busses, are very comfortable. I arrived in Puerto la Cruz at night and checked into a fairly derelict hotel on the main strip. I walked along the boardwalk at night, but there wasn't too much to see there. In the morning I caught the express ferry to Isla de Margarita, Venezuela's most frequented tourist spot.
On the ferry I met a Russian who spoke marginal English but was nice enough. We decided to go splits on a room in Porlamar to save some cash (2-bed room is marginally more expensive than a 1-bed and there are no hostels in Venezuela). We went to check out the beach near the hotel and when we got there, I was horrified to see my new Russian friend in a blue Speedo. Somebody needs to tell this sect of Europeans and Russians how wrong Speedo's are. At the Olympics, yes. At the beach, no.
Speedos aside, I met some of the other travellers at the hostel, a group of 3 Québécois that I has seen on the plane a week ago. We took a short tour to the Spanish castle at nearby Pampatar, and then were dropped at the massive Sambil mall. Venezuelans like their malls and this one was massive, but a comparison of prices of some items such as boardshorts and sandals revealed that this duty-free island is not such a good deal for anyone. Venezuela, unlike any other country in South America, has a parellel exchange market (mercado negro) for currency. Due to political instability, an official exchange rate of 2.15BsF to 1 US$, overwhelming economic reliance on oil prices, and harsh limitations on foreign currency for Venezuelans, the prace that can be had on the street for the Benjamins fluctuates. It was about 6 to 1 in December (pre-referendum), and prices in this touristy area were raised accordingly, but is now about 3 to 1, making a 90BsF per night hotel less of a steal. But the high prices cannot take anything away from the island's beauty. I have yet to see the "best" beaches. Photos soon...
On the ferry I met a Russian who spoke marginal English but was nice enough. We decided to go splits on a room in Porlamar to save some cash (2-bed room is marginally more expensive than a 1-bed and there are no hostels in Venezuela). We went to check out the beach near the hotel and when we got there, I was horrified to see my new Russian friend in a blue Speedo. Somebody needs to tell this sect of Europeans and Russians how wrong Speedo's are. At the Olympics, yes. At the beach, no.
Speedos aside, I met some of the other travellers at the hostel, a group of 3 Québécois that I has seen on the plane a week ago. We took a short tour to the Spanish castle at nearby Pampatar, and then were dropped at the massive Sambil mall. Venezuelans like their malls and this one was massive, but a comparison of prices of some items such as boardshorts and sandals revealed that this duty-free island is not such a good deal for anyone. Venezuela, unlike any other country in South America, has a parellel exchange market (mercado negro) for currency. Due to political instability, an official exchange rate of 2.15BsF to 1 US$, overwhelming economic reliance on oil prices, and harsh limitations on foreign currency for Venezuelans, the prace that can be had on the street for the Benjamins fluctuates. It was about 6 to 1 in December (pre-referendum), and prices in this touristy area were raised accordingly, but is now about 3 to 1, making a 90BsF per night hotel less of a steal. But the high prices cannot take anything away from the island's beauty. I have yet to see the "best" beaches. Photos soon...
22 May, 2008
Teleférico, Altamira, and Central Caracas
Photos (from the top)...
Caracas
I am thoroughly enjoying my first couchsurfing experience and have seen a great deal of Caracas thanks to my host, Frane. We went to Altamira the first evening to have a few beers and rum with some of his friends and to make an appearance at the Venezuelan International Poetry Fest. Altimira is a nice district and we were at ease having beers on some steps outside a building.
Yesterday, we went up the teleférico (cable cars) on the mountains north of Caracas. The trip takes about 15 minutes and gives a really good view of almost the entire city (looking South), as well as the ocean (looking North if there are no clouds). We took a few beers at the bar of a restaurant at the top. The temperature was notably colder than down in Caracas, but still was around 20C. It was fairly cheap too, BsF15 for students (about CDN$5). On the way home I got to experience the chaos that is Caracas rush hour. With gas prices locked in at about US$0.05 per litre, a lot of people are on the road!
Today was a day spent walking. We went to Central Caracas via bus and metro (busier than Montreal's metro, but not quite on par with the punctual chaos of Tokyo's). We toured around el Centro, much of which is undergoing restauration. I went to the Plaza Bolivar, Bolivar's place of birth, a Bolivarian Museum, and the Caracas Museum of Contemporary Arts (which has several Picasso originals in its collection). It was all very cool to see. We walked east from the Bellas Artes metro and I conquered my fear of the Sabana Grande police! The trip ended with catching a bus just outside the Canadian embassy to go back to the Baruta district.
Caracas may have smacked me in the face when I first arrived, but I am starting to get my bearings in the city and am enjoying getting to know the people here. I am prolonging my stay to go rumbear tomorrow night. Isla de Margarita soon...
- My couchsurfing host, Frane, and me at the base of the Teleférico in Caracas
- Bolivar Statue in Plaza Bolivar in Caracas
- View of some of Caracas from the Teleférico
- Plaza Altamira, Caracas
Caracas
I am thoroughly enjoying my first couchsurfing experience and have seen a great deal of Caracas thanks to my host, Frane. We went to Altamira the first evening to have a few beers and rum with some of his friends and to make an appearance at the Venezuelan International Poetry Fest. Altimira is a nice district and we were at ease having beers on some steps outside a building.
Yesterday, we went up the teleférico (cable cars) on the mountains north of Caracas. The trip takes about 15 minutes and gives a really good view of almost the entire city (looking South), as well as the ocean (looking North if there are no clouds). We took a few beers at the bar of a restaurant at the top. The temperature was notably colder than down in Caracas, but still was around 20C. It was fairly cheap too, BsF15 for students (about CDN$5). On the way home I got to experience the chaos that is Caracas rush hour. With gas prices locked in at about US$0.05 per litre, a lot of people are on the road!
Today was a day spent walking. We went to Central Caracas via bus and metro (busier than Montreal's metro, but not quite on par with the punctual chaos of Tokyo's). We toured around el Centro, much of which is undergoing restauration. I went to the Plaza Bolivar, Bolivar's place of birth, a Bolivarian Museum, and the Caracas Museum of Contemporary Arts (which has several Picasso originals in its collection). It was all very cool to see. We walked east from the Bellas Artes metro and I conquered my fear of the Sabana Grande police! The trip ended with catching a bus just outside the Canadian embassy to go back to the Baruta district.
Caracas may have smacked me in the face when I first arrived, but I am starting to get my bearings in the city and am enjoying getting to know the people here. I am prolonging my stay to go rumbear tomorrow night. Isla de Margarita soon...
20 May, 2008
Corrupt Venezuelan Police, a.k.a. My First Ride on a Motorcycle, a.k.a Bienvenido a Caracas
Caracas, Vargas, Venezuela
Last night I arrived at 11:30pm in Aeropuerto Maiquetia, a few dozen kilometres away from Caracas. I was interested in exchanging money a fuera in the airport, but feared I would not find anyone who wanted to change dollars for bolivares. Stupid me. The first security guard I saw upon my exit from the secure zone in the airport took me aside and promptly swapped me a few hundred bolivares fuertes (Venezuela's new currency since January) for my American cash. Not the greatest rate, but it was OK, I had cash. Then, the (apparent) friend of the money changer/security guard offered me his taxi services. Much obliged, I took him up on the offer, making one crucial mistake, not agreeing on a price before embarking on the trip.
After passing an ambulance with his lights on at 140km/h uphill I arrived at a hotel in Sabana Grande, Hotel Alse. I paid my surprisingly high fee and entered my room where baby cockroaches scurried away. It was clear that I was one of the few hotel customers who had not taken the hourly rate.
The next morning (today) I woke up and went to eat breakfast on the Plaza Venezuela in Sabana Grande. I had a decent breakfast on the plaza, declined an offer to exchange Bolivares for dolares from the waiters, and took a slightly different route back to the hotel. I was wearing a brown collared shirt and pants. No backpack, camera, fanny pack, whatever, to be seen.
I was passing a fruit stand when two men yelled to me to stop. They got down off their blue motorcycle and proceeded to flash me their ID's and ask for my passport. One of the men was uniformed, the other not. I was sceptic so I said in my rusty Spanish, "Why are you not in uniform and why the fuck are you stopping me?"
We went to a security kiosk on Sabana Grande and a man with a rather large gun confirmed that these two dodgy fuckers were indeed cops. I proceeded to empty my pockets onto the table provided. There were all to pleased to inspect my documents (read: US dollars) and note my possession of a room key to a nearby hotel.
So I was instructed to hop on the motorcycle and told that we would ride to my hotel. I was sandwiched between the two of them, riding along the sidewalk. Then, we turned left towards my hotel. One issue: the road was 5 or 6 lanes and was one direction (the opposite direction of ours) only. No problem for these guys, we dodged cars and pedestrians riding the wrong way up this road in central Caracas until we arrived safely at my dodgy hotel.
I then declared my utter opposition and surprise at this "random" inspection. They explained to me that it was regular and frequent in Venezuela. To prove their point, they demanded a nearby Venezuelan to produce his identity card, which he did. Then, the four of us, passerby included, went up to my room where the police proceeded to take everything out of my backpack and strew it about the bed. I soon realized, after their repeated naming of my books and clothes (and even maple syrup candy) as "cocaína and marijuana", that they would certainly not fuck off without some kind of prize. ¿Que quieren? Dolares. Claro. They asked for $50, but after negotiations, left with US$10 and smiles on their faces. Bastards.
I texted Frane, the guy I met from CouchSurfing, asking if we could meet up quickly after that. He arrived shortly after and gave me a beer to calm me down! He's a really nice guy who is on the same level as I am and has just returned from a long trip through Europe. This afternoon we went to El Hatillo and then, this evening, to Altamira with his friends. It was an excellent time and I can now say that even with the corrupt police, I am very happy to be here in Venezuela. Que fino.
Last night I arrived at 11:30pm in Aeropuerto Maiquetia, a few dozen kilometres away from Caracas. I was interested in exchanging money a fuera in the airport, but feared I would not find anyone who wanted to change dollars for bolivares. Stupid me. The first security guard I saw upon my exit from the secure zone in the airport took me aside and promptly swapped me a few hundred bolivares fuertes (Venezuela's new currency since January) for my American cash. Not the greatest rate, but it was OK, I had cash. Then, the (apparent) friend of the money changer/security guard offered me his taxi services. Much obliged, I took him up on the offer, making one crucial mistake, not agreeing on a price before embarking on the trip.
After passing an ambulance with his lights on at 140km/h uphill I arrived at a hotel in Sabana Grande, Hotel Alse. I paid my surprisingly high fee and entered my room where baby cockroaches scurried away. It was clear that I was one of the few hotel customers who had not taken the hourly rate.
The next morning (today) I woke up and went to eat breakfast on the Plaza Venezuela in Sabana Grande. I had a decent breakfast on the plaza, declined an offer to exchange Bolivares for dolares from the waiters, and took a slightly different route back to the hotel. I was wearing a brown collared shirt and pants. No backpack, camera, fanny pack, whatever, to be seen.
I was passing a fruit stand when two men yelled to me to stop. They got down off their blue motorcycle and proceeded to flash me their ID's and ask for my passport. One of the men was uniformed, the other not. I was sceptic so I said in my rusty Spanish, "Why are you not in uniform and why the fuck are you stopping me?"
We went to a security kiosk on Sabana Grande and a man with a rather large gun confirmed that these two dodgy fuckers were indeed cops. I proceeded to empty my pockets onto the table provided. There were all to pleased to inspect my documents (read: US dollars) and note my possession of a room key to a nearby hotel.
So I was instructed to hop on the motorcycle and told that we would ride to my hotel. I was sandwiched between the two of them, riding along the sidewalk. Then, we turned left towards my hotel. One issue: the road was 5 or 6 lanes and was one direction (the opposite direction of ours) only. No problem for these guys, we dodged cars and pedestrians riding the wrong way up this road in central Caracas until we arrived safely at my dodgy hotel.
I then declared my utter opposition and surprise at this "random" inspection. They explained to me that it was regular and frequent in Venezuela. To prove their point, they demanded a nearby Venezuelan to produce his identity card, which he did. Then, the four of us, passerby included, went up to my room where the police proceeded to take everything out of my backpack and strew it about the bed. I soon realized, after their repeated naming of my books and clothes (and even maple syrup candy) as "cocaína and marijuana", that they would certainly not fuck off without some kind of prize. ¿Que quieren? Dolares. Claro. They asked for $50, but after negotiations, left with US$10 and smiles on their faces. Bastards.
I texted Frane, the guy I met from CouchSurfing, asking if we could meet up quickly after that. He arrived shortly after and gave me a beer to calm me down! He's a really nice guy who is on the same level as I am and has just returned from a long trip through Europe. This afternoon we went to El Hatillo and then, this evening, to Altamira with his friends. It was an excellent time and I can now say that even with the corrupt police, I am very happy to be here in Venezuela. Que fino.
19 May, 2008
Adieu Montréal, Hola Caracas
I passed the last two weeks in Montréal visiting friends. Ca m'a fait du bien de voir (presque) tout le monde and I was fortunate enough to catch the first Picnik Electronik of the year. But now the real trip begins.
I will arrive tonight in Caracas around midnight. This arrival time seems particularly dodgy, especially since I would like to change some dollars for Bolivar Fuerte with some guys who hang around the airport. The official rate in Venezuela is 2.15 BsF = US$1, but on the black market you can supposedly get 3-5BsF. The black market rate is so common that you can even follow it online. Time to finish packing...
I will arrive tonight in Caracas around midnight. This arrival time seems particularly dodgy, especially since I would like to change some dollars for Bolivar Fuerte with some guys who hang around the airport. The official rate in Venezuela is 2.15 BsF = US$1, but on the black market you can supposedly get 3-5BsF. The black market rate is so common that you can even follow it online. Time to finish packing...
14 April, 2008
Five Weeks to Go...
Being someone who normally shutters at the word "blog" and all other words whose root is "blog," I am somewhat reluctant in opening this page. However, in my research for my upcoming trip to South America, I have found many other traveller's postings very useful and hope that at the end of my trip, my experiences can be of aid to someone else. It will also function as a place where I can update friends and family about what I'm doing, rather than in a mass email. Great. Now I feel I have justified getting a blog. Man I hate that word. But I digress...
My trip will take place 19/05/2008 to 19/08/2008, starting in Caracas, Venezuela and ending in Lima, Peru. I plan to visit four, possibly five, countries: Venezuela, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, and maybe Bolivia if there's time. I have been keeping up to date with the situation in Colombia and Venezuela and have not the slightest fear of troubles with FARC. Any possible problems will take place in the streets of major cities, I'm sure. But with the helpful advice of people at Lonely Planet, I will be sure to avoid putting myself in any great peril.
I might try to do some couch-surfing, as per warm recommendation from my sister. I also have a friend in Bucaramanga, Colombia, with whom I will travel with for a little bit. Those who know me know that I'm not too regimented, so in place of an itinerary, I've got a shortlist of things I want to do and places I want to see in my three months:
My trip will take place 19/05/2008 to 19/08/2008, starting in Caracas, Venezuela and ending in Lima, Peru. I plan to visit four, possibly five, countries: Venezuela, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, and maybe Bolivia if there's time. I have been keeping up to date with the situation in Colombia and Venezuela and have not the slightest fear of troubles with FARC. Any possible problems will take place in the streets of major cities, I'm sure. But with the helpful advice of people at Lonely Planet, I will be sure to avoid putting myself in any great peril.
I might try to do some couch-surfing, as per warm recommendation from my sister. I also have a friend in Bucaramanga, Colombia, with whom I will travel with for a little bit. Those who know me know that I'm not too regimented, so in place of an itinerary, I've got a shortlist of things I want to do and places I want to see in my three months:
- Salto Ángel / Angel Falls
- Meridá (not the Mexican one)
- Bogotá
- Ciudad Perdida
- Cartagena
- Cotopaxi
- Machu Picchu
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