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Posted by: perry on 01/07/2009 12:09 PM
Updated by: perry on 01/07/2009 04:47 PM
Expires: 01/01/2014 12:00 AM
Running Out of Time in Venezuela

After spending far too much time in Caracas, bored to death, and waiting for a package that never came, we found ourselves with just over two weeks to cover about 1000km to get out of the country before our visa's expired. We could have chosen a quicker route which took us back exactly where we came from, but who wants to do that? Plus we'd heard so many great things about Merida that we both decided that it was the way to go.


The last couple days in Caracas were filled with boredom and at the same time some really good experiences. Luckily I'd found a guy who sells second hand books and had a lot of them in English. I got back on my reading kick and spent days reading. I picked up a book by Ken Follet about the revolution (1978-79) in Iran and how Ross Perot was involved. It was really interesting to read because I don't know all that much about the revolution and because I was living there at the time too.

We'd made a few friends in San Antonio and for our last night we were invited to a bunch of different places. We ended up going for dinner with Michael, Glorimar and Jacqueline at their parent's place and having an excellent gnocchi dinner made especially vegan for Austin. Then we shared a bottle of rum and went back to the marmoloria for the night. The next day we thought we'd have a ride a bit out of town around noon, but the ride didn't show up until a few minutes before it got dark. Well, we took the ride anyhow and ended up camping along the autopista under the protection of the national guard (weird place to stay). The next morning we got on the road and after about 2 hours got stopped by the police who said we couldn't ride on the autopista, but I convinced him that it was safer and quicker for us to stay on that road because the old highway was in BAD shape, doesn't have a shoulder, incredibly busy, and is hilly. He struggled with it a bit then I laid it down hard with "hey, we've been on the road traveling by bike for 9 months since Mexico, we know what we are doing, and we know where we are going." With that he just shook our hands and wished us luck. Hehehe.

So, our first day cycling brought us to Maracay and as we were entering the city we started to think about a place to crash for the night. Last time in Maracay we slept in the city park at the baseball diamond. We were headed that way when a car slowed down to talk to us (Usually I hate it when cars do that because it's dangerous for us and them. I don't know how many time I've heard brakes squeal behind me while the car next to me has some idiot hanging out the window with the cell phone camera). But they were really nice and asked us where we were going and I said we were searching for a place to pass the night. Well, we got invited to stay at their house. We got showers, food, and lots of beer all along with a great time talking with four generations which live in a huge house together. The Ochoa family really took us in and made our first night on the road relaxing.

The next day we stuck with the old road, now that we were further out from Caracas, which also avoided a tunnel (tunnels suck). About half way we got another interesting carload of locals who were out having a fun time. But they were smart and pulled over on the road ahead of us, in the shade, and were out of the car before we approached holding cold beer for us. They also had some instruments and were singing impromptu songs for us about crazy cyclist vagabonds. We decided to all get off the road and head to a bit of shade where we could get some more beer. We exchanged information and promised to stay with them when we got to Valencia. We also got an invitation from Johnny to spend xmas with him in San Carlos. Excellent. But when we got to Valencia, the numbers for the people there didn't work. While in our dismal state of not knowing where we would sleep, a farmer offered to let us sleep on his farm. We tossed our bikes into his truck and went with him to his beautiful farm. It was a good place to pass the night.

The next day took us most of the way to San Carlos. We ended up camping at a bus terminal which was still under construction with a beautiful view of distant mountains turning from brown to orange to pink as the sun set. We also arranged a cheap meal of spaghetti and veg from a roadside street vendor for a good price (well good for Venezuela where the dollar is undervalued and we loose a lot in the exchange at the ATM).

After that it was just about a 1 hour ride to San Carlos. We were still there early and decided not to contact Johnny quite yet. We'd heard about a nearby river, Boca Toma, and went there first to take a swim in the nice, cool, clean water. When we got back into San Carlos, we called Johnny and his son, Gandhi, met us and took us to his house. Johnny is blind and it was really cool to get to know him. We spent some time talking, ate some dinner (Chinese food for xmas while in Latin America, what a great idea), then headed with Gandhi (age 14) to the main drag in town to walk around aimlessly for a long time. It was kinda stupid, but not too bad a the same time. The kid was fun, and his friends and Austin had a great time buying firecrackers and blowing shit up.

The next day I played a game of chess with Johnny. I fucked up early in the game, I was ahead and got careless, and ended up loosing. It was interesting playing with Johnny as it was the first game I'd ever played against a blind man. But it was fun too. He's got a great sense of humor and can really go with the banter while playing. Then Gandhi rode with us to the end of town and saw us off on our way. The ride was descent and we asked along the way for a cool place to spend the night. Everyone told us about Agua Blanca, so we went there. It's a cold fresh mountain spring coming out of a cave which is full of crazy idols and candles and offerings of fruit and veg. The water was so clean and tasty that I just sank into the water and drank it for a while. We set up camp there, with permission from the police, stole a bit of food from the idols, and had a nice dinner then got totally stoned.

The next day we had the wind on our backs pushing us at 40km/h for a lot of the day. We ended up breaking our single day distance record and covered 125km averaging 25km/h for the day. Since the wind was so strong we stuck to the autopista and let the wind take us away. It would have really sucked to go in the other direction. We pulled into Guanare just before dark and a guy on a motorcycle led us through town. He took us to the TV station to get on the news, but they had all packed up for the day and they said they would visit us the next day. Then we went to the Bomberos to stay for the night. We got to sleep in beds but the wind from the AC was so strong that I couldn't sleep well.

The next morning we packed up and still the TV reported hadn't shown up. So, about half an hour after they said they would be there, we took off. Then a few minutes later the TV van drove by and stopped for us and interviewed us. The interview was LAME. We never saw the footage. We don't even know if we were on TV or not. We've heard from other people that they've seen us on TV, but I don't have any first hand experience of it. Anyhow, with that done and over with we headed out on the old highway and again the advice of people we met along the way paid off wonderfully. They suggested that we go to a river called La Yuca. The water was clear and cold. And there were many other people there for the end of the day having a swim. I think I got about 4 liters of free beer that night and we got tonnes of free food along with being able to camp along the river side. It was also the birthday of a really nice guy who spoke a bit of English. He was really excited to spend his bday with us and to practice his English. I ended up spending that evening drinking a lot of beer with his daughter and talking with her until she didn't make and sense in any language and had to be guided home by her dad.

The next morning took us to Barinas where we had lunch with some people we met at La Yuca. Then it was time to start going up, up, up into the mountains of Merida. We got as far a Baranitas and were exhausted. We took a break, had an excellent downhill winding along a mountainside, then back up again for about an hour or so. Then we took a break and realized that we needed to start looking for a place to camp. The farm we took a break in front of were warm and welcoming and took us in for the night. We were led to a nearby river to take a bath in some FREEZING COLD BALL SHRINKING water (it was really refreshing and great until my lips turned blue). And a married couple, Ali and Marisol, took us in their car back to the last village where they live and cooked us a excellent dinner and we had a great time talking with them. Marisol is a marathon runner and speaks a bit of English, is incredibly cute and friendly, and is planning a trip to Cleavland and Chicago. We promised to call them when we got to Merida, but the phone number they wrote down didn't work. Anyhow, I kinda offered my parents' house to them when they go to Chicago. I guess I should email my mom and let her know. I think my mom would absolutely adore them.

From where we spent the night to the top of the mountain was 75km of climbing. We talked a bit about our hopes. We both wanted to get to Merida so we could get to know the place before new years. So we decided to hitchhike up the mountain, which took just two rides, and continue from the top. At the rate we were going we were already a day behind and the hitchhike got us to a day ahead. The mountain top was beautiful with cold clean lakes and fresh thin air. We hung out at the top for a while, at some lunch, then headed down the mountain wearing sweaters, brrrrr. Austin was ahead of me, passing cars in his aerodynamic bike, and for some reason pulled off the road and didn't let me know and I didn't see him. I tried as hard as I could to catch up to him not knowing that he was taking his time snapping pics and getting stoned (without me). Well, eventually I stopped at a bus stop with a bunch of backpackers and asked if they had seen him. They hadn't and they'd been there for half an hour waiting for a bus to arrive with a friend. So I got to talking with them and found out that they were going to spend the night up in the mountain near a hot spring. I saw some cops heading up the road and stopped them and asked it they had seen a weird guy in a weird bike go by. They hadn't, then a few minutes later Austin showed up stoned. We decided to go with the people that I'd been talking with up to the hot spring for the night. Sara (from Italy), Walter, Alexander, and the others spent their time with us, cooked with us, and when the cold of the night really hit us like a hammer we all went to the hot spring with some booze and tried to avoid the cold at all costs. But eventually you have to get out of the water. I was turning into a prune and jumped out of the water and quickly put on all my clothes. Then eventually we headed back to the campsite, skirting along a cliff while shivering and a bit drunk, then bundled up into the hammocks for the night.

When the sun came out so did I. It warmed my bones and all of us laid in the sun until midday when the clouds started rolling in. Then we all headed back down the mountain and Austin and I loaded up our bikes. We made plans to meet Sara and the gang in Merida. It was already getting late in the day, so Austin and I headed to the first veggie stand then to the first park for the night. I ended up having to talk to the vigilante's wife about us staying in the park. He wanted us to pay for the night but I said we didn't have any cash. Well, we ended up cooking some great food and having a relaxing time.

Now it was new years eve. We cycled the rest of the way to Merida, winding through the mountains, and had a big uphill climb before getting into the city. Once there we went to the center to look for a place to stay. Everyone suggested that we ask in front of the library, so we went there. While I was talking with one guy, a police officer went up to my bike and took my machete out of it and stole a very important tool. THE FUCKING EVIL COPS STOLE MY MACHETE WHICH I'D BEEN CARRYING SINCE GUATEMALA!!!! The evil bastards. They claimed it was illegal to have, but all the hardware stores sell them and everyone and their mother has them. He just saw a good quality machete and stole it. When I complained and asked for it back he threatened to trow me in jail for having it. FUCK THE COPS, THEY ARE ALL CORRUPT! While all this was going on I made Austin leave before the cops stole the two machetes he had on his bike. Then we met up at a hotel nearby which everyone said was cheap. It wasn't. So we headed back the direction we came and asked at the firehouse (bomberos) and they took us in warmly. We called Sara, met up for a second, but didn't manage to spend much time together. Then we got an offer from the chief to take a ride in the firetruck to the city's big fireworks demonstration where they would be ready to put out anything that got out of control. Hell yeah we took the ride! We got to ride in a firetruck and we had front row seats to an hour long show exploding dangerously close to us. YEAH! It was great. It took the edge off my anger with the cops, but only a little bit.

The next day we decided to go walk around the city. Everything was closed, the streets were empty, and we couldn't even find a place to make a phone call to try to meet up with Sara again. The evening with the Bomberos was fun and full of jokes and laughter.

So it was time to leave. It was the 2nd of January and we had to leave the country before the 7th according to our visas. The road from Merida was all downhill but into a really strong wind which slowed me down a hell of a lot and almost knocked me over a few times. It was not an easy ride and I had to work it the whole way. We also ended up having to go through three tunnels, all of them dark, hot, and smelly. The first one was hard and uphill, but the second two were downhill and we entered them going fast. But it was scary because you never knew when there would be a pothole and there was lots of impatient cars passing us. I mean, come on. It's just a 1km tunnel, take it at 40km/h for a short time and help a cyclist get through it unharmed. But we made it and headed down and down and down to El Vigia. We ended up dropping something like 1500 meters and were now in the heat and humidity again. We asked at the bomberos, but the boss said no. Then we went to the airport bomberos and were able to spend the night there. We cooked, got beds, and free Internet too.

The next day we didn't go far. A little past La Tendida we stopped to get stoned (trying to finish our stash before the border). There we met some kids and one guy, Marcos, basically begged us to spend the night on his farm. Then while there he kept begging and begging us to make dreadlocks for him. It was actually quite an annoying time. We wished we'd gone further.

The next morning we got a ride back to the road and then headed towards Orope. On the way to stopped in Coloncito to get some veg for the next couple days. All the veg we wanted we got for free. Then we continued on our way to the last village in Venezuela, Orope. In Orope we ended up staying with a really nice family who gave us more veg and other free food too. There were lots of kids and they were fun to make jokes with. One of the local girls got to liking Austin, but he was really resistant, don't know why. Anyhow, that night we slept like shit. The fucking chickens kept cackling all night.

In the morning something happened that I never thought would happen. Austin, after a bad sleep, ate eggs and cheese. Actually he ate cheese all day long. When he was finally ready to leave, we cycled the 12km to the border and crossed in Colombia a full two days before our visas expired. But there was a problem. There was no immigration at the border where we crossed. So we continued to Cucuta and figured that we'd make ourselves legal and legit there, but Colombia is another story.

Now, after riding constantly for a bit more than two weeks, my ass is HURTING! I've got saddle sore. It sucks. Also, the new rim I got for my back wheel sucks ass and I keep having to work on it to keep it straight. I think eventually I'll have to swap the front and back rings so I can use the stronger one where I have more weight. It'll be a lot of work and will easily cost a whole day. But afterwards my bike should work better.

If you find yourself going to Venezuela, I'm sure you'll have a great time. The people really know the meaning of hospitality, but sometimes that hospitality is a bit hard and overwhelming. I want to be friendly to everyone, but when we are clearly sitting down in a park on a bench, cutting up veg and making sandwiches, it should be obvious that we don't want to have a crowd of 30 people staring at us and taking pictures. In one town I basically said that we wanted to each lunch peacefully and without cameras. A guy said that it was peaceful with the camera. I got pissed off, put down my food, told him I want to eat but won't with him there, lit a cigarette, and sat and stared at him. Sure I want to be friendly, but let me eat a sandwich without a crowd, PLEASE!!! But there is an upside too. There is a custom here of "requerdos" or memories. Things to remember someone by. Basically a gift without value that you will be able to remember some by. It's a fun thing, but I usually just end up giving the thing I got in the last town to some kid in the next town. Sometimes I have to turn them down because they want to give me something stupid that is incredibly large and heavy (not the right gift for a cyclist). But sometimes it's just a key chain or a button or something nice and small.

So now we are in Colombia. We have a rough idea where we will be going, but nothing is certain.

Peace,

Perry




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