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7/7/08: This was not the start of a holiday that I was hoping for. My plane arrived in Caracas a little after 5am. None of the 4 ATMs at the airport would accept my card. So I had to resort to exchanging cash. I thought that $50 was plenty to get me through the taxi ride, breakfast and lunch until I could find an ATM in the city. The taxi driver dropped me at the hotel and when he told me it was Bs170 ($85) for the 18 mile journey, I thought my Spanish was failing me. When he confirmed that I did understand him correctly, I was convinced that I was being ripped off. I told him I did not have enough Bolivares on me and would need to exchange some more cash at the hotel. The hotel receptionist informed me that Bs170 was a reasonable rate, and he directed me to the closest ATM. (I later found out that due to high inflation and the continued devaluation of the Bolivares, the government had just issued a new currency Bolivares Fuentes (strong Bolivares) which resulted in a doubling of the exchange rates).
I apologised to the taxi driver, and asked if he would wait whilst I withdrew some cash. I found the ATM, but also found that it did not open till 8am (it was 7am then). A very kind lady directed me to a 24-hr ATM one block away, one of those where you had to swipe your card to be let in to a secure ATM area. Unfortunately, my card did not work at this ATM either - very frustrating! And because my day was not going badly enough, I found I could not let myself out from the secure ATM area..... I kept pressing the Exit button by the door, but it would not release the lock on the door. I figured it was because I had sneaked in as another customer was exiting, and as I did not swipe my card on entering, that the security system had registered me as an intruder. As it happened there was a police trailer parked right outside the ATM kiosks about 20 ft away, and the last thing I needed was to draw attention to the stupid foreign tourist stuck behind locked doors at the ATM. So I thought I would wait for the next customer to pop in to get my chance to sneak out. 3 minutes later, and still nobody came. So I swallowed my pride and waved to a passerby, gesturing to her that I was having trouble getting out. She gestured to me to press the Exit button - I gestured back that I did (that was all I was doing for the last 3 mins). She shook her head "No" and gestured that I should hold down the button and push on the door at the same time ..... aahhhh, if all my problems were as easily resolved as that!
In the meantime, the cab driver had probably thought that I had done a runner, and when I reappeared 15 mins later still without the cash, he was a little less than pleased. He was patient enough (well actually, he did not have a choice) to wait whilst I walked to the foreign exchange kiosk a few blocks down, which I had spotted on the ride in from the airport ........ except, that was not yet opened either.
Unsurprisingly, the taxi driver had completely lost his sense of humour at that stage. I offered to pay him the balance in USD, but he was not having any of it - either I paid the entire sum in Bolivares, or in USD. (All of this was being negotiated in Spanish, so I felt somewhat disadvantaged!) So I am now down $140 of the total $250 cash that I was carrying. I was getting very worried that I had not brought enough cash with me if I were to encounter similar ordeals over the next 5 months. I was relieved to hear later on from my tour leader (a Brazilian) that once we are past Venezuela, I should not have any more problems with my ATM on the rest of my trip, and I can even withdraw USD in many of the countries.
I had only managed to get about 2 hrs sleep on the plane (because I had to make a connection in Houston), so I was really looking forward to a shower and a little nap before I explored Caracas. Given how my day was going, I should not have been surprised that they would not allow me to check in until 2pm. So I left my backpack at the hotel, and knackered that I was, I spent the next 6+ hrs on the metro, walking and exporing the city sights. It is one of the most uninspiring cities I have ever visited. Many of the historic buildings have been torn down to make way for ugly commercial buildings, most of which are pretty run down. The one good thing that came out of the day is that I have definitely build up my confidence in using my pidgin Spanish and was very pleased that I actually managed to understand most of the responses as well (although it was probably more their gestures that I was interpreting).
I have met the others in my group - there are 7 of us plus the tour leader for the first leg, a 42 day trip to Rio, and I am by far the grandmother of the group - the rest are in their 20s, and my roommate is 19! They are a nice bunch - 2 English girls (one yet to arrive), 1 English chap, a Swedish girl, an American chap, a Kiwi girl, myself and our Brazilian tour leader.
I am looking forward to start the tour proper tomorrow where we take an 18 hr bus ride to Ciudad Bolivar and into the Canaima National Park, to see the Angel Falls.
8/8/08: The last member of our group, Katy, arrived at 1am this morning after her initial connection from Miami was cancelled, and after spending 3 hrs at the airport to report her missing baggage. When we met at breakfast this morning, I started regaling horror stories of how Miami Airport / American Airlines have such an appalling track record with lost baggage - how James's did not turn up for a week; how Elizabeth's never reappeared again. It was only when she paled that I realised that her baggage still had not showed up, and I clammed up immediately - oops! It made my ordeals from yesterday seem petty in comparison. When she called at midday, they still had not located her bag. Given that we were leaving Caracas this evening, and there was a likelihood that her backpack may not arrive in time, I took her out shopping for the few key essentials, myself acting as her translator (oh dear!). We then went to a foreign exchange bureau so she could cash some traveller's cheques. We were the only customers but the entire transaction took us a good 30 minutes. You would have thought she was a criminal, the way they finger printed her, photographed her, photocopied her passport then scanned it into their system, called up to validate the cheques, asked her what her salary was (and when I told them she was a student, they asked what her father's salary was. "Why?" I asked. They shrugged and said that was the process.) Maybe we should have just gone with the old man outside touting our business, and offering us "very good rates" ...... but I have heard too many horror stories of forged notes being circulated - so we refrained, and I am sure all the finger-printing business was all for good reason!
After all that preparation, the good news is Katy's backpack just showed up, and hour before we were about to leave. And she is all smiles again as we prepare to depart from Caracas.
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