Venezuela - Enter Bush´s axis of evil. I mean oil. Soundtrack: car alarms and Reggaeton

After worrying about whether or not we had enough money for the tickets & departure tax etc we were relieved to finaly board the sea prowler and got ready for a pleasant 3 hour trip to Guiria, Venezuela´s north eastern port. Onboard, we met our first bunch of backpackers, an interesting mix; a spanish guy who´s traveling around working as a dive instructor, an American Christian missionary on his way to try and persuade indegenous people to adopt his beliefs, a German herbalist with only his mountain bike and tiny backpack on his way around the worlds' vertical axis (he'd already done a trip on his bike previously around the world laterally), and a guy from Liverpool who just seemed angry and annoyed at everything.

On arrival, I was in for a bit of a shock. Up until this point I was sure that my Spanish was adequate enough for getting around, and doing all the important things you need a different language for. However, my first dialogue with a taxi driver highlighted the fact that my Spanish was weak at best, and that much work needed to be done.

We headed straight to the local bank, only to find that none of the 4 cards we have between us worked in the machines, so after finding a hotel (the hostel we´d intended to use appeared to be shut), we went into a bank, phrasebooks in hand, to put my Spanish to its second test. This time, I was understood, and to our delight, our palms were crossed with silver.

It felt great to be back in Latin America. The reggae and socca that'd been our daily soundtrack in T&T was replaced with Salsa, Merengue and, unfortunately, Reggaeton - South America's answer to urban music. Despite my dislike for the latter, it took me straight back to my first visit to Latin America 3 years ago, when I travelled through Central America. Aaaah The hustle & Bustle in the streets, the smells of the street food, the music pumping from every possible nook & cranny, the piles of stinking rubbish in the street.....okay, this bit was horrible, in fact I´ve never seen dirtier, rubbish-filled streets like these before.

Anyway, we soon realised that Venezuela was going to add to the dent in our budget already caused by T&T. If only we´d have got our hands on those US dollars; you can change them for a good rate here, and more or less double your wealth. People want them here so that they can buy things overseas....as the Bolivar fuerte, isnt that ´fuerte´(strong) anywhere outside of Venezuela. In fact they're pretty worthless anywhere else. As a result, you can either get money at the official rate which at the time was 2.15 to $1 US, or you can change US dollars in most shops, for up to 5 to $1 US. This is the black market. And we had hardly any US with us. This wouldnt have been quite so annoying if we hadnt already lost a large fraction of our savings due to the devaluation of the British pound over the last few months. To add to this, the inflation in Venezuela over the last year has been very high, so everything was pretty expensive, in fact damn expensive.

After a couple of days in Guiria, weighing up our money situation and adapting to a new world, we got a bus to Cuidad Bolivar. Here I made a classic mistake. When we asked how long the bus would take, we were pleased to hear only 2 .5 hours. However, the number 2 sounds very much like the number 12 in Spanish. So, after 3 hours on the bus we asked how long it´d be only to discover that we had only 10 hours left, mas o menus. Ah, yes, the distances, how could I forget?! And there was us thinking that we were prepared for the trip with our meagre packed lunch.

Spent a few days in Cuidad Bolivar, which has some nice colourful colonial Spanish buildings, with cobbled streets and the works. There are a couple of beautiful old hostels, or posadas, to stay in, one of which was Posada Patria; a German-run building of no less than 275 years. It had an open courtyard with lots of plants, loads of cool artifacts on the walls, a lounge dedicated to Cuban Jazz, hammocks and a couple of randy tortoises who kept us entertained with their rather noisy and perculiar copulation sessions.

We also stayed in Don Carlos, another beautiful posada, whose belgium owner took delight in taking any opportunity to share his opinions on the country's political situation. We made a habit of asking pretty much anyone we came accross, mainly Venezuelans, what they thought of Senor Chavez to try to build a more accurate picture of whats really going on with the 'revolution'. And, we got some interesting insight. But more on this later.

Most travellers staying in this town are either on their way back from or heading to 2 of Venezuela´s most magnificant natural wonders; Angel falls, or Roraima in the National park of Cainama. We tried to find a way to check out Angel Falls without flying, but had no luck. Instead, we headed to Santa Elena on the Brazillian border to go on a 6 day treck to the top of the impressive Roraima; one of many huge table-top mountains (or 'Tepuis') that are scattered around the Canaima National park. Apparently they were the inspiration for Author Conan Doyle's 'The Lost World' (what a classic) and I can see why, the whole place did seem very Jurassic Park. It wouldn't have seemed so unusual if we'd passed a Diplodocus or two along the way. It was a stunning area, totally unique and formed from the oldest rocks on earth. After the second day, it still seemed implausible that we'd actually reach the top....the monstrous rocky sides jut vertically from the base of the mountain and dissapear into the clouds. It took 3 days to reach the plateau, stopping to camp along the way, and swimming & drinking the cool river water.

Canaima, the name of the park, derives from the novel "Canaima" by Venezuelan author Rómulo Gallegos, and means "spirit of evil" in the language of the Pemón, the indigenous inhabitants of the park. It didnt feel particularly evil though. At the top there are many endemic species, that is, plants and animals found nowhere else on earth. We found cool carnivorous plants like sundews, and tiny crawling black frogs. Unfortunatley, this century will probably spell the end of the road for many of these organisms. As things warm up, they won't be able to migrate any further up, as they already live on the top, so unless they rapidly evolve wings and fly to somewhere with a more suitable climate, they're f*cked. It's sobering to think that we may be some of the last people to see these lifeforms that have been in existance for so long.

It definately seemed like some other world-type shizzle on the top; big craters, crazy plants, crystal clear lakes and streams, and all surrounded by the white clouds below. Although, once again, the beauty was tainted by the touch of man, the paths strewn with plastic food wrappers and beer cans discarded by tourists and locals alike. By the end Colette and I had collected a bag full of other people´s waste.

We spent two days on top, the highlight being the amazing view once the clouds had cleared.

We were shattered by the end of it, and a bit damp & battered, but it was well worth the effort. On the evening of our return to Santa Elena, we took the bus back to Cuidad Bolivar and planned our next stop; Merida.