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Arrived into Caracas airport several hours late. Took heed of the Lonely Planet which and warned about being approached by men in official looking uniforms asking to see you passport, money, tickets etc. Sure enough, while I was still in Customs (the bare-faced cheek of it!), 3 guys came to me separately and asked me for my passport, how many dollars I was carrying etc. I feigned ignorance (you can do that quite well when you're blonde!) and just kept walking. Got through unscathed to be met by the loveliest lady, Veronica, who is probably in her late 50 or thereabouts. She spoke English with a very thick German accent but is Venezuelan. Turns out she learnt most of her English whilst living in Vienna! She had 2 very British boys in tow who were ever so helpful (what-ho!) and rushing around trying to grab my bags for me. They had just graduated and were on an adventure trip but theirs soon paled into nothing after they asked what I had been up to - yet again I was named a hero, something that is happening quite a lot lately!? They had met Veronica a few weeks ago through a tour and were planning to sleep in the airport that night so she said she would take their bags back to the hotel for them so they didn't have to worry about getting robbed (yes! It's that bad here!). Anyway, she left me at the hotel and 15 minutes later Zam turned up. Zam is the guy who I have been emailing for the last couple of months to get this tour sorted out. He was super cool - used to be married to an American who worked for Aveda and they lived in London for 2 years (Notting Hill no less!), he's in a band and was just an all-round genuine nice guy. I had pre-arranged to exchange some money with him as I could get a better (read black market) rate. The official rate is about 4 to the $ but he gave me 7. You can get this rate (and there were rumours recently of 10 to the $) on the street but it's not overly safe to deal with these people and you may end up with fake notes. None of the ATMs work here so the only way to get around is to carry copious amounts of cash around.
Anyhoooo, I was picked up at sparrow's fart on Sunday by Veronica who had a German girl in tow. Honestly, I was starting to think that Veronica was some mind of guardian angel, helping waifs and strays. It turns out that she found this girl at the airport earlier that morning and she had been robbed - by the very official-looking men you are warned about! She was obviously very naïve and hadn't done her research so frankly probably shouldn't really have been travelling to a country like Venezuela but anyway, I felt sorry for her. This guy had asked to check her money as he wanted to ensure it wasn't fake. She had handed over all of her money (that's stupid to start with!) and immediately lost something like $1,500! Veronica was trying to contact her travel agent so that she could lend her money until she could get it sent over from somewhere. Nightmare. So, by this point, I had money stashed all over the place and had been rehearsing my answers to any questions I was asked by officials or non-officials!
Flew to Maturin where I was picked up by Carlos and we drove an hour to the Orinoco Pier (let me sail, let me sail). A boat was supposed to be waiting for me but an hour later it still hadn't arrived. Carlos had to be somewhere else so he left me under the watchful eye of the owner of a shack that sold cream soda and not a lot else but he was very nice and could speak English which always helps. As I was the only whitey within a 100 (or more) mile radius, I was the centre of attention and all of the customers kept stopping to chat to me where they were told that I had been abandoned and was waiting for a boat to come and collect me! People seemed very concerned but there wasn't really anything they could do about it as there were no boats at all, there was no mobile phone reception, no landlines and therefore no way of contacting anyone - Zam or the lodge I was supposed to be staying at!
3 hours later as I was losing the will to live (and a bit tired of being offered beer - very kind but really, no thanks) and wondering if I should hitch a ride to somewhere that either had a public phone or mobile reception, the boat appeared! Hurrah! Turns out the engine broke and none of the other boats had fuel (or something like that - my interpretation of actual events may be slightly skewed!). My driver (and guide it turns out) was Marco, a 22 year old who liked to drive the boat fast. No problem for me as it meant I was cool for the first time that afternoon! Arrived at the lodge which was to be my home for 2 nights. It consisted of individual huts, to be shared with whatever creatures felt like joining me that night, with mosquito-netted beds and a bathroom - of sorts. The most disconcerting thing about this place was that I was the only guest, except for an Italian couple on the 1st day but they struggled to muster up the manners to say hello, or even smile. This meant that all of the staff would just sit and stare at me and watch while I ate. When I tried to speak to them, they just giggled. Shy I'm sure but it didn't make me feel too at home! To make matters worse, Marco kept lurking around my hut. I would hear him and when I would open the door and ask 'what?' he would say that he was just checking I was ok. Well, knock on the door and ask then instead of sneaking around! I'm sure I had nothing to worry about and it's not like me to get unnerved by something like this but I did feel a bit vulnerable, particularly as I had no contact or means of contact with the outside world, should anything go horribly wrong! And nobody really knows where I am!
The 2 days at the Delta were nice and relaxing but it was too much on my own. There's not a huge amount to see and do. The river was beautiful though - it was like a rich chocolate sauce and when the light changed as the sun went down, it was so flat and still, it was like a mirror. When you looked directly down, it was almost as though you were flying upside down. Amazing.
On the 2nd morning I was feeling fairly proud of myself. I had survived a night on my own in the jungle (I'm bad enough when there are people there I can call on for help so imagine my stress when there was only me?!), I had single-handedly got rid of a firefly that had somehow got inside my mozzie net and scared the s*** out of me just after I'd gone to bed and was trying to read (whilst hearing all sorts of noises!) and I had managed to get up in the middle of the night and go to the loo, with no dramas! But, it couldn't be left at that could it? Oh no! What should appear at breakfast time but a bloody great tarantula. Fantastic! I managed to take a few photos and also some video - you can see how much I was shaking and then when it leapt of Marco's hand, I almost ran on water! The great thing about all of this, of course, is that a year ago I couldn't even look at a spider on TV without getting palpitations, let alone be this up close and personal with the hairy variety. I have decided though, that it's because tarantulas move so slowly that I can get so close (except when they jump of course!). The smaller ones that scurry or those awful huntsman things still put me in a complete state!
Anyway, my 2.5 days in the Orinoco Delta were spent being zoomed around at top speed on a boat, stopping in random places in the middle of the river while Marco asked me random questions (mainly about my 'boyfriend' (who's getting more perfect by the day as I think of more features to add!) and why I'm not married, surely I must have children by now, etc etc…you get the picture). Twice he announced that he really fancied a swim and thought he might go in naked and twice I asked him not to and to take me back to the lodge! We went to some Indian villages where I felt like I was in a zoo staring into people's homes (which were really just a roof over some hammocks) and I resented being asked for money to buy some of their wares when a) they weren't even interested in saying hello to me or answering my questions and b) they can't be that short of money for food when they all have satellite dishes and TVs in their shacks!! Harsh I know, but fair. One of the families had a pet monkey, and you know I hate that, but it did make me laugh to hear that he had the grand name of Jose Antonio Perez!! We also went for a walk in the jungle but there were too many mozzies so I cut it short as I was being eaten alive. On that note, by the way, I have been bitten ALL over! They've nibbled my arms and legs to death, they've had a great feed on my bum, my face, my ears, my boob. Hell, they even got me on my eyelid!
On the last morning we went piranha fishing which was pretty boring. I think fishing is probably one of the most boring things on the planet anyway but sitting in a boat with Casanova trying to catch the 6 fish that live in this part of the river whilst dodging the strong sun for 10 minutes and then the torrential rain for another 10 minutes, was not really my idea of extreme fun. Anyway, he caught all 6 but they were all tiny. I felt a bite on my line at one point and yanked it, to find a rather large piranha clinging onto the end. In my excitement (it's all relative!), my line got caught in a bush and back into the water he plopped!
I finally rid myself of Marco and was picked up by Giovanni who seemed much more sensible. He drove me 3 hours to Ciudad Bolivar where I would be spending the night. He asked if I had an ipod and then insisted that I play it. Now, I don't normally like to play people my music as it normally gets boo'ed off but I gave it a shot. He seemed to like the eclectic mix and was drumming away on the steering wheel. I had presumed I would be staying in the town and be getting some sort of exposure to civilization but as we turned off onto a dirt track full of gigantic potholes, I feared I might be disappointed! I was - I was staying in a posada in the middle of bloody nowhere! It was nice though with a pool and an area full of hammocks and the owner was very nice and spoke great English. Still, TV and a bit of internet wouldn't have gone amiss…….
- comments
Kerenza Brown OK....so I think that's the first time your blog has scared me a little.....!!! Men waiting to rob you on arrival....pesky tour guide and no one else around for company except mozzies......I don't know how you do it!! You'll have to share more about your 'boyfriend' - he's going to be the perfect man by the end of your trip....!! Must be fun though being so inventive...! Glad the river itself was impressive though - sounds beautiful.