White Christmas in Columbia

After spending a week in Merida, I decided that I would take a short trip to Columbia, as I wasn't far from the border. The day of travel made me want to change my mind, but I had gotten as far as the border and I wasn't going to turn back. The border hassles were greater than I had expected, but made tollerable by my chance to play with some children, also in line. I sat in line for 4.5 hours before being told that I was in the wrong line and that I had to exit Venezuela before I could enter Columbia. The immigration for Venezuela was not easy to find, and I had to walk through the city asking people every couple blocks where it was. I went back and was able to walk to the front of the line to the same woman who I was dealing with, and then I was into Columbia. My arrival in Bucaramanga by way of overnight bus was not entirely pleasant, as I saw a guy run up to the cops with a knife wound in his back as soon as I sat down in the city centre square. I decided to move on to San Gil after that, as it was the only town I could get to without having to take another overnight bus.
The few hours that I did spend in Bucaramanga were pleasant, although there seemed to be little to do. The street markets were lively and the people were friendly. The fruit was also really delicious, and so I stocked up for the bus ride to San Gil.



San Gil turned out to be a great choice. I found a great hostel, Hostel Macondo, where the owner and the people are all really friendly. My spanish isn't improving as rapidly while I am surrounded by Whitey, but we are all solo travelers and it is very stress free. My first night was heading out to the town centre square, where we had dinner of delicious potatoes and pinchas, or meat-on-a-stick. Met some locals who were intent on getting drunk on Aguardiente, the Columbian firewater, and headed out dancing with the chicas.
Saturday was a bit of a slow start, as I had the 'guarda' still heavy on the brain, but I did manage to start off with rafting down the Rio Fonce, a class 2 river that was warm enough to swim in, and then a trip paragliding in the afternoon. This was followed by a trip to the market, and then an evening of hanging out with the gang from the hostel.
I began Sunday, December 22 with a trip to the market to pick up supplies for breakfast. Avocados, mangos, and a massive fruit shake for less than a dollar gave me energy to start the day. We got a bunch of people from the hostel together, and six of us rented bikes and headed to the local waterfalls. They were approximately 20kms away from town on a mostly flat road. The bikes were not bad, and the going was easy. James, an Australian who is here for a month, and I took the turn up the hill to head to the waterfalls, and discovered that it was a 4km long hill, quite steep, and it lead to a town that had no waterfalls. It wasn't all bad, as the town was having a festival, and we were able to enjoy a beer and a slice of pizza when we got to the top. When we asked around where the Casadas were, and got many different answers on which direction it was, it was clear that they weren't anywhere near, and we had taken a wrong turn. Besides, our friends who were behind us hadn't followed us to the town. We turned around, had a long, fast ride down the hill, and continued on the right path. About 30 minutes more riding, we arrived to the entrance of the park, and hiked to the base of the waterfall to meet our friends. There, we saw people swimming and diving, and others rappelling down the waterfalls, from about 45m up. A hike to the top of that waterfall proved to be great for photos, but we lingered too long and had a ride back that was mostly in the dark. When we got back to town, we grabbed a feast at a small restaurant for about $3, while outside, the town was celebrating a win of a favoured football team. Later, we headed back to the hostel for poker night.
The next couple days will be for exploring the other towns within a few hours bus ride, and then I will stay here for xmas with many of the other backpackers. After xmas, I will head to the coast for a few days, and then make the long trip back to Venezuela. Not sure where I will spend New Years, but if I can make it to Puerto Columbia in Venezuela, which I have heard is just a beautiful paradise, I might just do that. That would put me within a few hours of Caracas, and back with the family in January.

Merida, for good reason

On one of my last days in Caracas, I went to Parque del Este, or Park of the East. I sat down on a bench, and, as is apt to happen, a beautiful chica sat down beside me and said 'Hola.' My spanish was so poor that I couldn't even answer simple questions and carry on a conversation. That is when I decided that something had to be done. Thus, a trip to Merida for beautiful mountains and Spanish classes.

Without a guidebook, I managed to find a hotel in a good area, and a private spanish teacher in the first day I arrived. It was easy to do, but I did do it mostly in english. I also met a guide who might come in handy for doing an adventurous trip if I can't find any willing companions.

Just to check prices, I went to a spanish school to check what a private lesson would cost. For 18 hours, it would cost about 400 Bolivar Fuertes, or about US$90. The guide I managed to find was asking for 90 Bolivar Fuertes for the same amount of time, or about US$20. Just over $1 per hour. And, as it turns out, the instruction is pretty good.

After some searching, I was unable to come up with someone else to go to the mountains with, so I contacted the guide and told him that I would like to go out this weekend. I told him the things that I liked to do (walk a lot, go up high and see some good views, and go to beautiful places in the mountains), and I asked him to pick out a couple places for us to go, since he would know the area best (and since I don´t have a guide book). Big mistake. This guide was all talk. The places he took me were nice, but the furthest we went from the road was 30 minutes walk. I was disappointed, and told him so. I told him that I didn't need a freaking guide to take a bus, and I fired him and paid him only for half the day. It sucked, but he totally didn't deliver. The places were nice, and I got a couple good photos.

Lastly, my Aunt Carmen in Caracas, has a sister in Merida, Lucila. Her husband, Jesus, has been really good to me while I've been here. He speaks a bit of english, but not so great, so our main language of communication is in Spanish. He invited me to lunch and made a fantastic seafood paella. He also asked me to join him for a barbeque at his garden that is out of the city, today, and it turned out to be his bachellor getaway from his wife. He had the place so stocked up with rum and whiskey, that he will last for a long time in a drought. The barbeque was fantastic, and the conversation interesting now that my spanish is improving. I really enjoy spending time with the family who aren't really even related to me.

Caracas Zoo

I decided to visit the zoo on one of my days in Caracas while I was waiting for my plans with the family to happen. I haven't been to a zoo where the animals have been in such small cages or in such terrible conditions before. The tigers in the small concrete cages; the aligator in the tiny pond; the monkeys in the cages losing their minds. It wasn't for me. I felt bad just witnessing it.

The mountains of Caracas

The weather in Caracas hasn´t been so great. It rains every couple days and when it rains it comes down so hard that people do everything they can to get out of it. I went out guide book shopping and forgot my rain jacket. I was constantly worried and looked at the sky the entire time I was outside. Fortunately the heavens decided to spare me that day.
Other days, the weather has been just great. This is a statue in the roundabout near Aunt Carmen´s house.











Jose Carlos, who is the husband of my cousin, Karin, invited me to come with him up the teleferico, or cable car, up a local mountain in Caracas. The mountain wasn´t so high that I suggested that we hike up. Jose Carlos said that he had done it in his early years, and his son, David, 12, was very active, so they would come with me. I figured it would be a bad idea and that they would have a hard time going up, but they were keen, so we headed off. It didn´t take long for us to find that the trail was very overgrown, and that there was no chance of us continuing on the trail.
Thus, we turned around and took the cable car up, which turned out to be the better option anyway, because it was way longer than they implied, and it was raining when we got up to the top.





There wasn´t much of a view, but that didn´t stop us from having a good time. We walked around and saw the ice rink, the pool hall, the many restaurants, the hotel, and the street performers. Keep in mind that this is on top of a mountain.




We also took a jeep to a small town (still on the mountain top) and enjoyed lunch out of the rain and checked out the many tourist shops.

Caracas and beyond

I spent my first week in Caracas meeting and getting to know the family that I knew I had but was never in contact with. My Aunt Carmen lives in a large apartment in Caracas on a beautiful tree lined street. The area used to be a farm, and my cousins talk about how when they grew up, there was nothing but trees. Now it is densely filled with malls, shops, houses, and apartments. Cousin Ben met me at the airport and gave me a guidebook and a map. He told me he had everything I could want, and so I did not bring one, partly out of the sake of being adventurous, and partly because I believed him. It turns out that both attitudes were a mistake. The guidebook he offered me turned out to be 15 years old, hard to follow, and written for someone who has a car.
On my first day in town, I went out with my Irene in an effort to work on my Spanish. It was a good intention, but it was clear that it was so much easier for us to speak in English. So that is what we spoke most of the time. It didn´t do much for my Spanish, but it was very entertaining as Irene is a woman with a lot of charactar and a flair for the dramatic when it comes to conversation.We walked around Plaza Bolivar, of which every city has one, and admired the colonial buildings, the birthplace of Simon Bolivar, and some museums from the outside.
She then took me to a place called Sabana Grande, which is a popular street that is shut down to vehicular traffic. It is a street lined with clothing shops and bookstores. The bookstores, while being of great size and quality with the range of books they carried, didn´t have a single guidebook for Venezuela in English. It turns out that I am going to have to do this entire trip upon the graces of my family and my wits.

Off to Venezuela

I'm off to Venezuela to meet some family who I knew were there, but only recently got in contact with through Facebook. I'm flying off Monday morning, somewhat prepared but totally without a plan. My travel dates are December 1 to January 15.
Can't wait to meet the family! Can't wait to spend 8 hours in Houston on the way there.