Advertisement
Published: December 28th 2008
Edit Blog Post
Bustling Caracas 1
Fancy architecture and police presence for the conference Day 1 (Saturday) - I only had a day in Caracas. My bus arrived after 6 and my bus to the border of Brasil was set to depart at 3:30. I was fortunate to spend the time I did have with my new friend Orla, who I had met on the bus the day before. The beginning of our day was one of baggage issues. I wanted to leave my big bag in the terminal but the baggage check worker never showed up. The woman in the company I was to depart with was not willing to help by letting me leave my bag until Orla pleaded with her and offered a little money(Orla's spanish is pretty good). We were off by about 10 and went to the other but terminal across town to leave Orla's bag, where she was set to catch a bus to the airport later that night. In order to get to the other terminal we had to catch a bus to a subway stop, where we would have to navigate our way about. The bus was interesting. Orla had all her bags in the seat next to each other so I was left on a seat
Bustling Caracas 2
One of the squares alone. First, a woman sat with her baby and began breastfeeding inches from me (not to uncommon in South America but my first time that close since here). When two seats opened up on the other side, she moved for privacy. She was promptly replaced by a transvestite, which I was surprised to see in Venezuela of all places in the middle of the day. The subway was not nearly as interesting, except for the remarkable shape the cars were in. Not a speck of trash or dirt was to be found. Orla and I stood out like sore thumbs. I don't remember seeing another tourist all day. When we were done with all the bags, we made it to the center of town. The area was roped off for a meeting between the presidents of Venezuela and Cuba, I think they were talking about how much they love America and Americans. It was quite a perfect day to be in Caracas. The good news was that it was Saturday and the conference had the city bustling with activities. We sat in a plaza and drank cold drinks in the warm sun while workers set up a concert venue for the evening, while surrounded by a constant stream of pedestrians. We then went walking to run some errands. I wanted to change some cash. Unfortunately, Venezuela pegs its currency to the dollar at a rate of 2.15 Bolivars. However, the actual exchange rate is much more favorable to the dollar. Venezuela regulates the banks to exchange at its rate, ATMs will charge a 50% fee to bring the rate in line with the set rate and official money changers are forced to comply as well. There is however a black market. There are some street changers around the subway and plazas but they will likely rip you off with a bad rate, give you counterfeit money or just walk off with your money (are you going to call the police about an illegal activity scam?). The best means for securing money at a favourable rate is to go into the markets and ask around. Finding someone working in a shop means that cash is a side business and you can come and find them later. I am not saying what I did but 4.5 Bolivars to the dollar is a pretty good rate, which is achievable. Afterwards, Orla wanted to run a few little errands, which I was happy to tag along for after she helped me with her spanish in my money transaction. After the errands we grabbed a quick lunch. I was kind of in a time crunch and the staff of the little bakery (16 - 18 year olds) were facinated with me and ignored a long line of patrons to ask me questions I did my best to answer. I finally had to politely extract myself as I wanted to eat and get back to the bus station. Orla and I had a nice final chat and said our goodbyes. I found my way back to the bus stop pretty easily but the market outside where the buses to the bus station were, was a madhouse and it was hard for me to find my way while negotiating my small but full backpack. I found the bus after having to cross six lanes of traffic while jumping a median on a major thoroughfare. The bus took a while to fill and wouldn't depart until it did. The last guy was smoking a cigarette. The driver and assistant told him he couldn't smoke in the bus and proceeded to make the rest of us wait while he smoked the whole thing. It was quite unbelievable. The bus from the station took about 5 minutes with loading the bus. The bus back to the station took nearly an hour, cutting it a little closer than I wanted but not too bad. The traffic was terrible; the first fifteen minutes took us less than 300 meters. However, I made it back with about 20 minutes to spare, got my bag and charged my ipod a little bit. I got on the bus at 3:30.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.087s; Tpl: 0.01s; cc: 9; qc: 48; dbt: 0.0601s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb