Venezuela; waterfalls, wildlife and the Andes

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A noticeable change in topography occured not long after the border, as we moved into the outskirts of the Canaima national park area, before stopping at our spectacular campsite, Salto Kama, nestled next to a 40m waterfall with a plethora of biting insects. There was little time to enjoy the falls however as we all mucked in (with a couple of notable exceptions - the usual suspects slinking off when work needs doing!) for a final truck and tent clean. A fantastic dinner of steak and mash later with caesar salad and peaches and cream, we went to the bar to sample the local beer, which only appears to come in entirely pointless 222ml bottles (we had got used to the 3/4 litre bottles in Brazil - civilised!), sitting up late into the night with some random drunk banter and waiting for the rain to ease off.

Spending the next evening on the outskirts of Ciudad Bolivar, we were lodged up in a beautiful site run by a very drunk German, with random kleptomaniac spider monkeys, a wild boar and a deer in massive enclosures. Here we packed our bags in readiness for our next excursion, an overnight trip in Canaima National Park. Canaima is famed for its collection of sandstone table top mountains, or tepuis (very similar to the buttes in Monument Valley) that tower above the Grand Savanna. The tallest of these tepuis is Auyantepui, which houses the park's main attraction, Angel Falls.

Leaving reasonably early the next day to get to the airport, we were flown out in Cessenas for an hour (the pilot lost interest in the course once set and began reading his newspapers instead!). This flight in itself was awesome just to get an idea of how remote the Lost World really is, nothing buy a sea of green interspersed with some water bodies and nit much else. Touching down at Canaima NP airport , little more than one hut with a bunch of similar small planes surrounding it, we were greeted by our local guides and taken up via 4wd vehicle (heavy duty - some very muddy paths there) to the river for our next leg of the journey.

All squeezing in to a motorised canoe, we began working our way upstream, having to get out once (only a week prior people were doing this 40-50 times per trip!) to walk around and let the boat navigate the shallow rapids by itself. Stopping an hour or so in at a scenic little waterfall we had our packed lunches (cheese and ham sandwiches - what are the chances?!) and had a brief chance to take in the amazing scenery without the lovely addition of a constant faceful of water.

No sooner had we (nearly) dried off, we were back in the boat for yet another soaking (this was one constant white water ride!) whilst heading upstream further into the middle of nowhere. An hour and a half (and many rapids) later, the open waters gave way to some truly spectacular rock formations, gnarled, twisted structures worn away by centuries of constant water pummelling. Having squeezed through these rather narrow channels, we rounded the bend and got our first jaw-dropping glimpse of the World's Tallest Waterfall.

Shortly afterwards, we pulled up onshore and made a speedy hike up the hill through some jungle to the nearby viewpoint. As with so many of these natural wonders, superlatives fail to convey their sheer majesty and the awe they inspire, as was again very much the case here. At 979m tall, in dry season (as we are currently) the water normally evaporates before it reaches the bottom of the fall, but thanks to some unusually high rainfall we were able to witness the full cascade. Necessary photos taken, we wandered back to camp in the rapidly enveloping dusk, for a fantastic meal followed by an excellent night's hammock sleep.

Up realtively early the next day, we enjoyed the falls again from the campsite viewpoint (they are best viewed in the morning due to light positioning) before heading back downstream, possibly getting even wetter in the process than on the previous day. Stopping off along the way, we walked underneath another waterfall, and then took the trail down to another canoe for a ride over a lake with yet more waterfalls to get back to the main lodge. After a spot of lunch we went back to the airport for an overflight of the Falls, giving a completely different perspective on the surrounding area (although the boat trip was better) before flying back to Ciudad Bolivar. A quick coffee and steak later, I was tucked up in bed watching Die Hard 2 and quoting the whole film. Excellent.

The final point for half the tour (including me originally - I wisely decided to extend to incorporate Colombia), Caracas was our next destination. Not having the best of reputations (its moniker Crackhouse is quite appropriate!) and with a large proportion of us stil bearing dodgy guts from the ferry and everyone getting ready to head home, there was not much desire among us to venture out into the city. When we did, this was the first place where we had encountered any animosity (derogatory sneers and comments aimed at us gringos), so we were quite glad to be hotel based. Nontheless we all went out for a last group meal at a mexican restaurant, ending in a late night with a couple of empty bottles of rum lying around the place. The following nights were mostly spent in the hotel lobby where the numbers slowly dwindled until eventually everyone had gone apart from Anna and Keith who came down to see us off on the morning of our departure.

With a newly streamlined group of now only 14, we were on the road for 5am to avoid the Easter traffic on the way up to our next destination, Merida. Somewhat akin to a big brother to Banos in Ecuador, this is the Venezuelan adventure sport capital nestled 1630m above sea level at the start of the Andes, and is renound for its cable car, the tallest and second longest in the world. This ascends to 4765m over 12.5km to the Sierra Nevada mountain range, the highest peak of which, Pico Bolivar, stands at 4981m. A long travel day saw us rocking in around 9pm, leaving barely enough time to dump bags and then head out for a very quick bite (chuleta - pork steak burger, excellent) before crashing face first in a very welcome bed.

Being Easter weekend, many shops in town had closed for the week, so we never really got to see the city in all its glory (due to massive queues I even missed their massive ice cream shop, offering over 900 flavours including garlic, trout and steak!), but we did instead get to enjoy the scenery. Several of us went out canyoning, being driven right up into the mountains before teetering along a very narrow and steep footpath to get to our entry point on th river. Having done it a couple of times previously I was expecting to be fairly comfortable with the activities, but this was appreciably harder than before. We were lowered into the waterfalls themselves, being pounded with little to no traction on the slippery rocks, jumped into narrow crevasses and slid down algae covered rocks. More adrenaline inbetween the water activites, we scrambled down dirt banks with no footholds, clinging to vines, clambered up yet more dirt banks hanging on to no more than roots with precarious drops into the river below, and then had to scramble down small rock formations to get back on the path home. Exhilirated, achey and exhausted we drove back to town for some excellent food at the adventure company, many photos of kittens (they had a whole litter there) and overall a relaxing afternoon finished off with a delicious pizza (alas no booze - the entire town was dry due to Holy Week).

The following morning was crystal clear, providing us with the perfect opportunity to go up the teleferico for some outstanding views of the area. With such a massive ascent over such a short period, the changes is flora were clear below us, trees giving way to scrub and then eventually to bare rock. Having to stop at every station upon the ascent for at least 15mins increased the travel time, but was probably a good idea as by the time we reached the top we were fairly breathless and light headed (not to mention a bit chilly). A few photos and a very expensive hot chocolate later, we were all ready to head back down to more breathable climes. After some excellent sreet meat back in town we wandered around for a little while before having another relatively early night due to an early start the following morn to beat the holiday traffic.

Still dark and cold the next morning, we loaded the truck with our supplies for the next few days and set off with our local guide, Alan Highton (originally from Jamaica, butterfly man and photographer extraordinaire) over the Andes through the Gren Valley towards our base for the next few days, the nature haven of Los Llanos. Arriving in the scorching midday heat, we rested for a little while before heading out on the back of pickups to our overnight freecamp, a slow walk down a dirt track more reminiscent of Africa than South America. Along the way we saw droves of red ibis, capybaras (the world's largest rodent - about the size of a pitbull) and a horde of cayman. At camp, cold beers awaited us (bliss) and then the boys gathered round to witness Mark slaughter our dinner for the evening, slitting the throat of a local goat. Not the most enjoyable experience for anyone, he decided to do so (our local guides would have done it otherwise) with the reasoning that if we are prepared to eat meat, we should be prepared to get our hands dirty. In western society for the most part we never even see the animals we so readily eat, so this was definitely a breath of fresh air and felt like a rite of passage, plus at least we knew it was free range and not cooped up in a factory somewhere in atrocious conditions. Feeling nontheless a bit weirded out from our goat experience, we walked back down the path for a fantastic sunset before returning to base for roast goat, a few beers around the campfire and some late night cayman spotting: based very near the water, you could shine a torch nearly from your hammock and see hundreds of eyes shining back at you!

Bright an early, we were back on our feet and heading down to the water for a beautiful sunrise before breakfast of guava bread and coffee. Duly fed, we walked up the path to see our first treat of the day, an Orinoco crocodile, who was lured out of the water with the remains of the goat from the previous evening (nothing here goes to waste) for a good carcass tug of war with one of our guides before submerging himself back in the murky waters with his catch. Back down the dirt track, we waited under the shade of a solitary tree as our guides went off snake hunting, calling us over after managing to find an anaconda lurking in the marshes, an aggressive young male only (?!?) 2m long. We then headed back to base for lunch and a couple of hours rest from the firece heat before embarking on our next adventure, a boat trip upriver and another overnight bush camp.

In convoy with two boats, we motored up the river, seeing twisters overland in the distance and getting a brief glimpse of the elusive pink river dolphins, a vast selection of birds and a few iguanas. Rounding a bend in the river, we stopped for an hour or so to do a spot of fishing for the local catch, the infamous red bellied piranha. Bigger and considerably more aggressive than those we witnessed in our Brazilian jungle excursion, within seconds of the bait entering the water, it will be eaten, so fast reactions are needed to be able to actually catch the fish. Sadly this was dry season, so no proper feeding frenzy could be witnessed (in wet season there are much more big fish around in the waters), but even so we still had enough for dinner that evening (admittedly the guides had caught most of these earlier!). Chilling at camp for a couple of hours with yet more cold beer (always a winner) and another excellent sunset, we devoured our fish fest dinner and then all loaded up in one boat to go out hunting for more local wildlife.

A most unexpected and entertaining side effect of us motoring through the water, the piranhas (appreciably bigger than the ones caught earler) in the river kept jumping out of the water and occasionally into our part of the boat, causing us to jump up on to our seats to avoid being munched (we were only in flip flops!). Having been hit by a couple of the charming jumping ugly bastards, I was quite glad when we pulled into the side of the bank in search of snakes, our guide coming back with a tree boa (small, looks similar to the very dangerous and aggressive Fer de Lance also native to the region) on a stick, much to the terror of Tracy ("ooh shit the bed" was uttered quite a few times that night!) and the amusement of everyone else. Shortly afterwards, bigger prey was spotted and in a flash our guide was in the water, returning with a big ball of muscle wrapped around his arm. Heading for land, a bank of quicksandy mud, he unravelled his package, straightening it out (they can only move when coiled) by the tail to reveal a 4m long (female) anaconda much to everyone's delight. A few photos and poses later, a couple of us sinking nearly knee deep into the mud, we boarded the boat and headed back to camp, being attacked by yet more piranha along the way. To liven it up a little more, Alan steered the boat underneath a tree full of iguana and then started shaking the branches to encourage some movement. When threatened, iguanas have a tendency to scarper like mad, and in trees they will all dive off to take cover in the water, so we had kamikazee "tree chickens" nearly landing on our heads and almost causing the boat to capsize with a few of the group panicking and trying to avoid them! Worn out but thoroughly entertained, we made our way back to camp, sadly sleeping through the passing of a giant anteater though the camp later on that night(Jude felt it pass underneath her hammock!).

Heading back down the river the following day, we attracted yet another couple of piranhas into the boat before getting another glimpse of the pink dolphins, so far removed from their oceanic counterparts, along with some red howler monkeys swinging in the trees. After lunch we headed out on the truck for several hours to our next port of call, Alan's rafting camp, a beautifully tranquil location in the middle of nowhere set next to a rocky river. Again, low season prevented us from being able to raft, but we were instead able to tube (inner truck tyre tubes - plonk yourself in the middle and try to stay in it!) down a couple of rapids, a couple of us flipping (he directed me into a particularly nasty rapid just for good photo potential of me flipping out!) in the process. Afterwards, we got some fantastic hydromassage from some rapids next to camp where you can anchor yourself between the rocks and receive a relaxing torrent of water to ease away any stresses, and swam in the crystal clear water to cool off. Inevitably, food at the camp was divine, with some excellent steak and beans, washed down with mas beer and retiring after some cards and a look through Alan's excellent selection of wildlife and landscape photos (his website will be up soon; forestfeet.com, and will definitely be worth a look). The next morning held another early start, as we readied ourselves for the next leg, our crossing over into Colombia.

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