World Social Forum 2009: a report for a new Hull Magazine

We'd arrived a week early with high expectations of the Forum. We'd travelled over 4000km to get there from Colombia; 5 days by bus & 5 more by Amazonian river boat sleeping amongst a tangled web of hammocks. 100,000 people were expected to descend upon the city of Belem, which lies at the confluence of the mighty river Amazon and the Atlantic ocean, to speak of their struggles and campaigns and discuss strategies to achieve a better world. 'Um outro mundo e possivel' (another world is possible) has been the forums' tag line since its birth in 2001, in southern Brazilian city of Porto Alegre. The forum rose in part as a direct challenge to The World Economic Forum which takes place in Davos, Switzerland every January, where top business leaders, politicians and economists get together to discuss how best to maintain the Capitalist status quo. The Porto Alegre declaration of 2001 states that the forum is "an open meeting place where social movements, networks, NGOs and other civil society organizations opposed to neo-liberalism and a world dominated by capital or by any form of imperialism come together to pursue their thinking, to debate ideas democratically, to formulate proposals, share their experiences freely and network for effective action. Since the first world encounter in 2001, it has taken the form of a permanent world process seeking and building alternatives to neo-liberal policies".

Things kicked off with a huge demonstration through the streets of Belem, starting at the port where the visiting Greenpeace vessel 'Arctic Sunrise' was docked. It was every bit as colourful and lively as you'd expect a Latin American demonstration to be, and when the inevitable deluge of wet season rain arrived it did nothing to dampen spirits. In fact it only served to whip the crowds into a heightened frenzy as people cheered, danced, and chanted to the sounds of samba drums whilst being soaked to the bone with lashings of cool rain.

The workshops commenced the following day with over 4,300 on offer over the duration of the week, with titles as diverse as the organizations presenting them. Would it be the 'Palestinian Grassroots anti-apartheid wall campaign: Root causes & prospects for common struggle', or the 'India Resource Centre: International Campaign against Coca Cola'? How about 'Indigenous Environmental Network: Indigenous peoples energy & climate justice' or the 'International network for the abolition of foreign military bases'. The list was endless, and it soon became apparent that it would be impossible to attend all of interest.



A strong theme this year was the importance of the Amazon basin as a source of Biodiversity and as a vital carbon sink. As a result of the 'call for indigenous peoples participation', over 3000 indigenous people were present, many from tribes based in the Amazon basin. Members of Tribes such as the Jawari wandered around painted from head to toe with traditional tribal markings, complete with colourful feathered head dress, spears and bows & arrows. Indigenous people from around the world were also represented, coming as from as far as Canada to talk about the Tar sands operations which are wrecking havoc in Northern Alberta, and from Nigeria to speak against the oil companies that are displacing and brutalizing communities across the Niger delta. Hearing these stories first hand from the people who daily face the reality of predatory corporations operating in their lands was extremely poignant. Never before have I heard such an array of stories and accounts which have painted such a vivid overall picture of the extent to which the Neo-liberal stage of Capitalism is responsible for the planetary crisis we are facing. However, it was heartening and inspiring to hear of the range of resistance world wide; the globalization of struggle.

Unfortunately however, there appears to be much room for improvement in the organization of the gathering. Things were chaotic from the beginning, when no one could give us details about accommodation, or how / who to pay for registration. The Forum was spread between The Universidad Fedral Rural da Amazonia (UFRA) and and the Universidad Fedral Do Para (UFPA). It was difficult to board the buses going inbetween the two, due to the number of people attempting to squeeze their way on. A simple shuttle bus system would have lightened the pressure from the normal bus service.
The programme of workshops had been drastically altered without amendments being made and apparently this was known even before the programmes had been distributed. We only worked this out late in the week, after many a frustrating hour finding our way to the poorly signed workshop locations only to find nothing there. We would be told one thing by one volunteer, only to be told the opposite by another, resulting in countless wild goose chases.
When attending gatherings such as this one tries to shake off the expectation of the religious punctuality championed by top-down organization, but there are limits. A few big boards detailing amendments, or volunteers with knowledge of the re-jigged workshops would have saved a lot of wasted energy.
For a forum with a strong theme on Amazonian deforestation due to soya monocultures grown for cattle feed, there was little in the way of vegetarian or vegan food. It was impossible to buy any on the UFPA campus, and most of the veggie options at UFRA were overpriced. Yet, ironically, it was all to easy to buy a can of Coca Cola. The only water available was sold in tiny overpriced plastic bottles, and all food and drink was served in disposable plastic and polystyrene cups and plates which overflowed from bins and littered the ground. Despite both the Fedral and State governments ploughing huge sums of money into the Forum, it appeared that responsible waste management had been forgotten, with no recycling facilities to be seen.

At times, looking around at the hoards of confused people walking through the scattered plastic debris in search for non-existent workshops, it was hard to imagine "another world is possible". It's a sad irony that ethical responsibilities such as these could be neglected at such a symbolic level; a gathering that is meant to epitomize this 'movement of movements'. It goes without saying that good environmental & ethical practice should be sown into the very fabric of the World Social Forum - as Ghandi once said, we should be the change we wish to see in the world.
One can only hope that these problems have been duly noted and added to the 'things to improve' list.

Overall, despite these contradictions, the Forum was a positive experience and I left feeling inspired, with a notebook full of new contacts and ideas. The Forum's strength is definitely in the sheer diversity of it's participants & the potential for bridges to be built between them, and for the strengthening of alliances united in their resistance. For me this is what the forum is about; sharing experience, inspiration, solidarity, strengthening alliances and forming strategies. I spoke enthusiastically of the Camp For Climate Action throughout the week, and people listened eagerly and expressedd interest in forming Climate Camps in their regions; as a result we may see a new camp pop up to challenge the Canadian tar sand operations. This demonstrates the importance and effectiveness of having a space created in which ideas are shared and movements furthered. Another reassuring thing was to see the sheer number of young people present. Whoever said today's youth are apathetic?

Global Capitalism is in crisis, it's indefatigable greed seeding the beginning of its own demise. And here, in Brazil, gathered the nuclei of a peoples movement, a movement with perhaps the energy, ideas and determination required to replace the current flawed system and institutions. Indeed another world is possible and it has surely never been more necessary than now.

Down the Amazon on a river boat

After buying some fruit and salad for supplies, we boarded the '11 de mayo'; a classic three-tier Amazonian river boat. By the time we arrived, the little vessel already looked packed to capacity, the middle floor consisting of a huge chaotic web of hammocks. We managed to get a recommended spot-second floor, near the front so that we were away from the sound of the engine and would recieve ample breeze to keep those winged bloodsuckers away. We tied our hammocks to the nest.
We bumped into our Irish friend Patrick, who we'd met earlier in Venezuela, and met a couple of girls from New York also on their way to the forum. The hammocks were up, and we had a crew.
After a couple of hours, we left the busy port, passing other boats straining under the weight of passenegers and freight. We were away, and once again it felt good to be on the move.
For 5 days we gently cruised down the Amazon, soaking up some amazing scenery, and experiencing the warmth and hospitality of the Brazilian people. We passed river- dwellers, fisher folk, dolphins, snakes and birds.
During certain stretches, kids from river-dwelling communitys paddled frantically towards the boat in traditional dug out canoes, approaching from all directions, emitting strange howling noises to notify us of their presence. On reaching the boat (which was travelling much faster than them and could easily have dragged them underneath and into the propellors) they attached home-made grapple hooks onto the hull so that they were being towed along. The spray from the bow wave would begin to fill the tiny vessels, so one kid would be there desperately bailing out the water, whilst the other would sell sugar cane, fruits and shrimp to the passengers onboard. Some of the kids would simply beg, making hand signals which were met by a string of plastic bags containing clothes tossed overboard. It was really fun and interesting to watch, and all onboard crowded around the edge to look down and cheer them on!
One night we got together with a group of other gringos, and Brazilians heading to the Forum, and had a jam on the top deck with guitars, bongos, singing and beat boxing. The atmosphere was electric, maybe in part due to the amazing sheet & fork lightning that light up the wide sky around us.
It took a few nights to get used to the sleeping bit. The hammocks were literally touching and criss-crossing each other, so that you were generally aware of all your neighbours' movements. Ocassionally you'd have someone clumsily squeeze between you. Sometimes they'd duck and attempt to go underneath, inevitabley head-butting your arse. Now and then a rogue foot or elbow would serve you a little wake-up jab, usually just at the point where you had finally reached the verge of slumber. We stopped at a few small ports along the way, and just when you thought the boat's population had reached it's maximum, more people boarded. And just when you thought that no new hammocks could possibly have the audacity to enter your carefully guarded and already crowded territory, one would magically appear above or below you, during the time it took to blink. Early each morning, usually at around 2am, the wind would pick up and the rainy season deluge would begin. This was the only down point of being positioned where we were; the breeze that helped us remain bite-free would also bring with it heavy lashings of rain. You'd have to jump out of the hammock, fumble at the ropes to pull down the tarpaulin covering the deck, and receive a battering by the rain in the process, all before having the chance to wake up.
I loved every minute of it! I spent lots of time reading, dozing (sleeping in the day was often more fruitful than in the night) and talking to the many great people we were sharing the experience with. The majority of people on board were obviously Brazilian, and despite the language barrier friendships were made, and laughs were had. What a warm, friendly, welcoming bunch of people!
The food was pretty lame, but we'd known it would be, and enjoyed the extras we were able to pick up along the way. Frustratingly, it was only on the last day that we realized there was a kitchen available to use on the bottom floor. I'd recommend that any Veggies, and especially Vegans, take plenty of extra food. You can ask for the meal without meat, but you'll still pay the same price of 6 Reais per meal, regardless of the fact that it's only rice, beans and salad, and should be sold for significantly less.
Finally we approached the city of Belem. The immense metropolis sprawled accross the horizon, appearing alien after 5 days of only trees as a back drop. It had been a great journey, a highlight of the trip so far, and testament to the beauty of terrestrial/aquatic travel; these are the types of experience lost to the rushed traveller of the skies. I reccomend anyone travelling in the Amazon to give it a go.
After packing away our hammocks, and a flurry of photos and fairwells with our neighbours, we were ready to enter the city.

(The trip cost roughly 200 R each, for 5 days. You must have your own Hammock, cheap ones can be bought for 10 R each, with ropes for 6 R per set, around any of the market stalls in Manaus. Haggling is normal and expected. Better and more comfortable hammocks can be bought for between 20-30 R, but are heavy, and quite large so not so suitable for the backpack.)

Amazonas (soundtrack: strange animals)

For 5 days our buttocks were firmly planted on either the seat of a night bus, or the seat of a bus station waiting for the next night bus. From Maico to Maricaibo, Maricaibo to Caracas, Caracas to Santa Elena where we crossed the border to Brazil. Another bus to Boa Vista, and then the last leg of the bus part; Boa Vista to Manaus. We´d seen that some people had posted that you can take a direct bus from Caracas to Manaus, but as is often the case in these parts, one nugget of informnation is provided by one person, and then denied by the next - no one in the stations seemed to know anything about a direct bus. It was a tough 5 days, with little in the way of proper sleep or proper food. But we did well, and our spirits were kept high by our new sense of mission.

As we´d blitzed through Venezuela so quickly, we´d made good time, and decided to break up the trip with a stop in Manaus, an unlikely city that sits bang in the middle of the Amazon jungle.
On our first night we went for a drink with a lovely English couple we´d met in the Boa Vista bus station. They too had given up flying and had come here via boat.....though they did it the ultimate way - by sail boat!!!! It really wet our appetite for gaining some sailing skills, and I think I´ll take a course when back at home. Then you can become crew on boats that are sailing to various locations around the world to actually deliver the boat to its new owners. Apparently you don´t even particularly need the skills as sometimes they just want a few extra people to help out onboard, for company and night watch duty. Certainly got us thinking. Maybe for our return? That´d be one skill to gain for a low carbon future.

We decided to go on one of the many 'Amazon Jungle Tours' on offer in Manaus. Despite them being a bit generic and 'the thing to do' whilst in Manaus, we thought it'd be a good way to have an inter-travel break, and to at least spend 3 days in a tranquil environment with plenty of wildlife.

It ended up being a great few days. To start with we left Manaus and crossed the Rio Negro and passed the 'Encontro das Aguas' or 'meeting of the rivers' where the dark water of the Rio Negro meets the cremey coffee water of the Rio Solimoes. The water doesn't mix, due to differences in density and temperature, so you just get this sharp contrast in colours where the different water bodies meet, that continues for a few km. After another short drive in a camper van, we boarded a lanch and journied through mangrove-like areas of river, carving our way between roots, branches and submerged logs, occaisionally passing the bankside homes of river-dwellers. People bathed and washed clothes, whilst the children splashed in the brown water and waved at us.
After arriving at the rustic lodges, we imediately spotted pink and grey freshwater dolphins only 20 feet away, surfacing and rolling, their breathing clearly audible. Later that day we took Kayacks into the calm back waters, and saw loads of different birds; Egrets, Kingfishers, Herons, Ospreys, Green Parrots just to name a few. Distant thunderhead clouds loomed ominously, ocassionally emitting deep rumbles,
whilst the birds and insects sang their repetoire of weird and wonderful songs.
That night we took a boat deeper into the jungle, to set up camp for the night in hammocks. The hammocks were comfortable, but from about 4am onwards I just couldn't get to sleep - I was just too amazed at the sounds of the pre-dawn chorus and the troops of Howler monkeys roaring their blood-curdling territorial roar close to the camp.
We trecked through the jungle learning about various edible plants, Brazil nuts and rubber trees along the way. Then we took the boat to the home of a nearby riverside family and learnt about their way of life which is completely dependent on the river.
After lunch, and a swim in the lovely luke-warm river (only 30 feet or so away from the dolphins), we fished for Piranhas. Colette caught one, and i caught a few lovely catfish, but they were all too small to eat, so we gently returned them to the water.



That evening, as the light diminished, I spent a while watching our comrades, the bats, as they acrobatically launched their assult on the local mosquito population. Then we went to look for Caimen. The guide shone his torch along the river banks looking for the shining amber eyes of these little crocodiles. After a couple of failed attempts, we located one and got near enough for the guide to catch it in his hands to show us close up. It was a beautiful creature, and it was amazing seeing it so close.
After 3 days and 2 nights we returned to Manaus to continue on our mission to the WSF. The next bit of the journey would be very interesting - the quintessential Amazonian experience; Travelling down the Amazon for 5 days on a riverboat.

Desicions, Desicions: mission to the 2009 World Social Forum???

Just before Christmas, I´d discovered that the 2009 World Social Forum(http://www.fsm2009amazonia.org.br) would be held in Brazil in January, and got very excited about the possibility of going. Each day through the Christmas/New year period Colette and I debated whether or not it´d be feasible for us to go. Yes, the forum would be in Brazil, and yes, it was in January, and yes, it´s unlikely we´d ever have the opportunity to attend a World Social Forum in South America again. But, Belem is on the North East coast of Brazil, and Brazil is immense, taking up half the South American continent (about the size of the continental USA).
And, of course, we didn´t have the option of flying!! The distance is 4461.3 km!!!
The only possible route overland would be a 4461 km epic requiring 5 days/nights on buses solid back through Venezuela 5 days on a river boat on the mighty Amazon from Manaus to Belem. This would be a monster journey, a diversion that would take us way off track as we were meant to be heading South to Ecuador to begin a project in January.

We battled with this decision for days on end, until it became stupidly frustrating. In the end, we decided to go for it. Even though we were dying to get stuck into some projects, we hoped that attending the forum would renew our motivation, inspiration and hope. To be an activist, you need to be an optimist. But when the world´s troubles are so immense and complex, it´s easy to become overwhelmed and occasionally that hope wavers.
Every now and then you need to be surrounded by other people who share your views, and your hunger for change. You need to be reminded that around the world, tens of thousands of people are fighting for a better world and that there is still hope.
After returning from amazing gatherings such as Climate Camp (www.climatecamp.org.uk), I´ve always been invigorated and energised from witnessing the creativity, love and determination that people have for creating positive change. Its infectious and empowering, and if channeled correctly, can really inspire great things.
Maybe we´d find out about some amazing projects/organisations which are doing amazing things in South America, which we could then get involved in later in the trip? Maybe going to the World Social Forum would actually define the rest of our trip?

And this of course is the beauty of travelling without a rigid plan. If something comes up, you have the freedom to drop everything and head in the opposite direction.

And so, with excitement and a new sense of purpose, we headed to the Cartagena bus station, to begin our long journey to Brazil for the 9th World Social Forum.

Cartagena: A new year´s freestyle (soundtrack: Endo G and Killa B)

Cartagena was every bit as beautiful as it had been made out to be. We spent many an hour just wandering around the old town; cobbled alleys, colourful old buildings looking like they were about to collapse into one another, huge balconeys giving birth to cascades of flowers and horse-drawn carriages rattling through the streets below. Here and there old men wander past tries calls ¨Tinto, Tinto¨ as he tries to sell his tiny cups of extra sweet coffe (Tinto).

Cuban son and Salsa fill the air from the array of tiny bars and cafes that line the streets, along with the old buildings making the whole place feel like Havanah, Cuba, or at least what I imagine Havanah to be like.





It used to be the main Spanish port on the Caribbean coast, and was used to store treasures stolen from the indigenous people before they were shipped back to Europe.
As a result, it became a target for pirates and was repeatedly sieged during bloody attacks, some of the worst happening during the 16th century (Bad Karma I say - thats what ye get for being nasty imperial colonialists, yaaarrrggggghhh!). To try to pevent the attacks the Spaniards built huge walls encircling the town, making it into a fortress.


It´s a pretty amazing place. Walking around, you really do fell like you´ve gone back in time a few centuriese. Until you pass the Hardrock Cafe that is. Behind our posada was a park that was home to a troop of little monkeys and some Iguanas which run around fighting each other like battling dinosaurs.

We had a great time on New Year´s eve. Our friends were staying at a hotel with a terrace over-looking the main fort, so we met loads of friends (many of which we´d met previously along the road) there for a cocktail party. At 11-ish we set off for the old town, and later on 7 of us managed to crash a party that was happening in one of the main squares. It´d had been fenced off, and would have cost a couple of hundred dollars to get in, but somehow we just drifted through an opening in the fence! If we´d have actually planned to crash it, we´d have probably been busted, but as we just wandered in spontaneously, without even thinking about it, nobody noticed. After dancing around to the live salsa on stage drinking Champagne, the spontaneity continued when our dutch friend Dustin randomly asked me if i wanted to try and get on stage to rap. There was some famous Reggaeton crew performing, and we agreed that we thought we could do better. So, somehow, he got talking to some of the stage crew, giving them some bullshit about us being a famous crew in Europe. When asked our names, he came out with a beauty of a cliched classic: he was ¨Endo G¨, and I ¨Killa B¨!!!! Incredibly, a short while later, a guy came and said ¨okay, come on¨ and before we could think about it, Dustin and I were lead underneath the stage, up some stairs and into the bright lights! The rest of our friends couldn´t believe what was going on, screaming up at us from the front of the crowd with bemused faces. We were handed a mic each, a beat started, and we took it in turn to rap, 8 bars each, to a crowd of about 1000 people!!! It was insane, non of us could believe it! Everything just happened so spontaneously that night.....if we´d had time to really think about getting up on stage, or thought about what we were going to say, I´m sure we´d have come unstuck. But, we just did it, and it worked...depsite being hammered i do remember us holding down a freestyle on rhythm, and it ended up being the highlight of a crazy old new year´s eve!!! Just a damn shame no one brought out their camera. In hindsight, maybe I should have used that opportunity to denounce President Uribe. Hmmmm, maybe it was a good job I wasn't thinking clearly afterall...
Our roll came to an end when we tried to help ourselves to the free buffet afterwards.....we´d pushed our luck too far, the staff looked unimpressed, and so we decided it was time to leave before we were given the boot.

What a night!

Christmas in Colombia

We set off from Merida to Maricaibo, and then from Maricaibo to Maico just past the Colombian border. We must have been stopped by military police about 7 times along the way. Each time the officer would make his way along the bus, checking peoples ID at random, and eventually asking to see our passports. On one occasion the guy asked to see our airport stamp. With a combination of broken spanish and sign language, I tried to explain that we didnt come on the plane, because of course that's bad for mother earth, and that we came on a boat. He continued to point at random pages in my passport wanting to see an airport stamp, and repeating a word i didn´t understand. In the end, he could see he wasn't getting anywhere with this simple grinning gringo, and after recieving what appeared to be a back hander from the bus driver's assistant, he left the bus and we continued. Obviously he´d wanted a bribe (the corrupt cops/military here will pick any bullshit excuse), but had got sick of this simple grinning gringo. Not quite sure what was going on, but we saw the bus conductor give many of the cops back handers along the way, it´s pretty crazy.


The bus ride which was meant to take about 12 hours ended up taking almost 24, namely due to the delapidated dinosaur of a bus which we boarded in Maricaibo, thinking we'd save a few dollars. After every stop we´d begin a painful accelerration and lumber away in a cloud of dust and exhuast fumes, serenaded by a chorus of angry horn beeps from drivers unfortunate enough to be caught behind us.

We finally got to our destination that night - the little fishing village of Taganga. After a shower and some well deserved beers and food, we thankfully collapsed onto our bed. Next morning we were awoken by the sounds of tropical birds, and looked out of our window to see a beautiful blue sky and the sea!
Taganga was a great little place. During the brief walk along the road from our hostel to the sea front you´d bump into donkeys lazily chewing on crap, goats with their young nervously wandering around, chickens pecking in the dust and dogs playing and dozing in the shade. Children played in the sun, flying home-made kites in the ever-present forgiving breeze. The locals were really laid back and friendly, and you could buy amazing fresh fruit juice everywhere for $1. The fruit in Colombia is amazing, our firm favourtie being Maracuja (passion fruit). You cut the skin open to reveal a clump of sweet, delicious slime, which smells as amazing as it tastes, despite looking like yellow frogspawn. We spent a few days checking out the beaches nearby, which were horribly overcrowded due to it being Colombian holiday time and reading James Lovelocks' 'The revenge of Gaia'.


Went diving and it felt amazing to be underwater again. Had 4 dives and saw a few fish I'd never seen before, their names escape me now, along with Morray eels, a few different species of angel fish, and the highlight, my first Hawksbill turtle and on Christmas eve!

Met loads of great people, many of whom we'd met earlier in Venezuela and began planning Christmas festivities. The Colombians actually celebrate Christmas at 12 midnight on the 24th. The atmosphere was great throughout the town and we prepared for a night of serious rummage. They seem to love these ridiculous giagantic blow-up nativity scenes out here, every town we visited had them. Giant virgin Marys looking like somewhere between a monstrous smirf and the Michellin man, towered above huge cribs and ill-looking giant donkeys, all lit up with christmas lights. They're truly tac-tastic. To add to the tac, everywhere you went you were serenaded by the sounds of an awful medly of singing Christmas lights, playing the same mini 'mega-mix' over and over again, until you couldn't help imagining taking a rock and pummeling them to smitherines.
Christmas eve passed in a haze of cheap rum, and Christmas day was a rite-off as I suffered the most hideous hang over I've experienced for some time. I eventually sprang back to life after electrocuting myself trying to plug some Christmas lights in (that´ll teach me to curse the lights and we got started on a belated Christmas dinner, which wasn't very traditional but delicious all the same.




Boxing day saw us heading to the nearby Tayrona National park where we camped for 4 nights, next to the beach. At last, the tent had been errected!!! After more than 2 months of lugging the damn thing around, we actually put it to use.
The National park was gorgeous, amazing beaches and rock formations, and plenty of jungle walks, including one to a Pre-hispanic settlement called Pueblito, which is
still inhabited by Tayrona Indians. Saw a troop of amazing little monkeys but the
Toucans remained elusive. Loved cooking over an open fire once again, so satisfying, even with the hot smoke seering my pupils and lungs. And the stars! Frogs and toads sang their nocturnal chorus, glow worms flashed here and there, and a scan over the river with the torch would reveal the amber eyes of small Caimen lying in wait of passing fish.

Venezuela Pt II: Andes, fanny tours & a 3-wheeled bus

On arriving back in Santa Elena from our Roraima treck, we decided to get the bus that evening back to Cuidad Bolivar despite being knackered as doing the night buses saves on a night's accommodation. It was another 12 hour journey, but the coaches in Venezuela are similar to those in S.E. Asia; modern, efficient and comfortable, having reclining seats and ample leg space. But, like their Asian counterparts, the conductors seem to believe that all people boarding are actually Inuits from the Poles and that they must therefore recreate Arctic living conditions on the bus by blasting the air conditioning on full for the duration of the trip. As the full coaches set off, people in every seat begin to rummage in their bags and pull out jumpers, hats and blankets in anticipation of the incoming ice-age. I remember the first time in Thailand 3 years ago where I foolishly boarded night bus in my beach attire. Never again. Now I always take the trusty sleeping bag.



We arrived early the next morning and spent another night in Ciudad Bolivar, where we met Stephanie (Germany) and Rickie (Sweden) who accompanyed us on the following night to our next location, the city of Merida in the North-West. This was a 20 plus hour journey, with a change in BarinasAs we got closer, the scenery became completely different, with the road winding around colourful little villages, farms and highland rivers full of trout. The people looked more like indigenous Andeans and wore traditional hats and ponchos. The climate changed from humid to cool and cloudy. Merida is located on a plateau formation in the valley of the Chama river, in the 400km long northern end of the Andes range that belong to Venezuela. It stands at an altitude of 1,630 m above sea level, and is surrounded by mountains including the highest Venezuelan summit: the Bolivar Peak.We loved it. It's a university city, so has a youthful vibrance about the place, and it feels really liberal and laid back. Combined with the charm of Andean culture, it made for a nice place to stay for a while. We first stayed in a lovely hostel with a terrace which looked out onto the nearby mountains and it felt like eating breakfast in the Alps every morning, with the pleasant slightly more comfortable temperature. We found a couple of Veggie restaurants, our favourite being restaurante vegetariano on Ave 3, Calle 27, where you could get a set menu for 7 bolivars, the cheapest set menu we'd seen. I think it was vegan. The only thing we disliked was the air pollution from the fleet of huge, ancient American cars that constantly patrolled the streets. Some of them looked as though they were about to disintagrate. They must get them cheap from the states.



We decided to do a week of Spanish lessons at the IOWA Institute. With it being low season, there weren't many travellers around, so the classes were very personal. We were impressed with the school and were enjoying being in Merida, and so 1 week of lessons became 2.




After spending some time going to bars to ask if I could DJ, and being told to come back, and going back and then been told to come back again, I finally got myself a set at Banana's cocktail bar. I got to play for about 4 hours, with the cocktails flowing freely to me & Colette (and plenty subtly finding their way to our friends. Well, maybe not that subtly..). It's pretty funny here, I'd noticed on the radio and in another bar that the DJ's always plug themselves on the mic, and so the bar manager continued to shove the mic in my face and order 'Habla'! Of course after a few cocktails it didn´t take much persuasion to get me on the mic (Yes Nick!) much to Colettes' disgust. "Soy DJ Defunkt de Inglaterra, terra, terra! Este es Drum & Bass, bass, bass! Que paso Merida?!".It went down well, and reminded me how much I miss mixing to a crowd. The aim is to get to play at least once in each country visited.



One day, we went with our good friends Eli (Eng) and Bert (Holland) to Llano del Hato to see Latin America's 2nd largest telescope. The plan was to check out the stars, and then just find a spot to throw up the tent for the night, and get the bus back again first thing in the morn. The bus journey along this road is amazing. We passed campsinos ploughing their fields with oxen-pulled ploughs, gorgeous little villages with houses painted yellow, blue and pink and then "BANG, SSSSSCCCCCRRRRRRRR". I thought we'd been hit by another vehicle, and looked out of the window to see a wheel roll past. Then we realised that it was actually our wheel, and it had fallen off, just like that. We literally grinded to a halt. It was hilareous, we were all just pissing ourselves! The passengers calmly collected their belongings, and got off the bus to wait for the next, as though a wheel gone AWOL was just a part of their daily routine. After finding his wheel, the driver joined us in waiting for the next bus, and left his 3-wheeled casualty for dead on the narrow mountain road.


After 2 more hours we stopped for food at a cute little cafe. An annoying local guy persistantly tried to impress us by roughly picking up a tiny decrepit kitten by it's flea-bitten tail, poor little bugger. He was soon scared away by Colette's scowl of disapproval.
We finally reached the telescopes to be informed that they were closed until the following week. We pleaded to be let in, for just a quick peep at the stars, but it was in vain, and so we decided to return to Merida! The day had neem a disaster, but we'd all had such fun!



We weighed up doing another treck (especially with tour operators with names such as 'fanny tours & adventures'), or some camping in the hills but in the end decided that it was time to move on, as we'd been in Venezuela for 5 weeks and spent a fair bit of money. Also, we reckoned we'd have plenty of chance to see animals such as Caimans, Piranas and Capyburas once we'd entered the Amazon. After some careful consideration, we decided that Colombia would be our next port of call. Most travellers we'd met were either on their way there, or on they're way back, and all who'd been had given rave reviews. So, risking the initiation of 4 simoultaneous heart attacks from our parents, we got ready to head West to Colombia..........