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Published: September 14th 2005
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Los Palifitos (Little Venice)
Yes, people really live in these houses. Maricaibo
Caught the coach from Santa Marta to Maricaibo and very nice it was too. Air con, big reclining seats and free cafe y agua.
Maricaibo is described in the Lonely Planet as :
hot as hell
and it couldn´t be more accurate. In shorts and a T shirt and at times thinking I could faint, activity was limited to air con and staring in disbelief at locals who were in trousers and long sleeved tops! Most tourists avoid Maricaibo but we decided to check it out, as it is a 1m populated Venezuelan city and would probably give us an insight into what South American cities are like.
The hotel was excellent, especially after one of my worst nights sleep the previous night in the Mirimar Hotel in Santa Marta. The temperature was so hot I had to take 4 cold showers and put my face on a metal table on the roof to get some air. It was an incredibly run down hotel and not at all conducive to getting any rest. Still it was only a pit stop on our way to Venezeula.
As soon as we got off the bus at Maricaibo (7pm) Sal saw a
local guy with a gun. We were quickly approached by a couple of taxi drivers, who advised us not to go to the hotel we had requested as it was not safe and one said he would take us to a safer hotel. We needed money so Sal said he would go to the cambio to change dollars, the taxi driver said he would escort Sal as it was :
muy pelligrosa.
Hmmm, I was starting to think, why the hell did we come here?
We hadn´t eaten so asked the taxi driver if he could recommend anywhere to eat nearby. He replied that it was not safe to walk around and that if we wanted to eat he would drive us somewhere and he would wait in the car and then take us to the hotel. There was only fast food places open, so we said we would just get a nice bottle of wine instead. He drove us to a liqor shop which was just closing, Sal and the taxi driver got out of the car and knocked on the door. A guy opened it, they had a conversation, looked at a couple of bottles and then another guy
walked up to them and asked them to go for a walk. Later back in the taxi, the driver told us that he thought that the guy was going to mug them, but it turned out the other guy worked at the shop and he could see some police so he did not want to be caught selling alcohol and so moved them away from the doorway. Phew, tense.
Maybe, things would be different in the morning.
We got up early as we needed to buy our coach tickets for the night bus to Merida as well as do the 60km journey to see the Palifitos. The trip was interesting and incredibly hot. We took 4 por puesto´s (literal translation is :
for space
. Por peusto´s are taxi´s which you share with others, hence you are paying for the space. The old cadillac style cars drive you to a destination where you get out and then catch another, of course you need to bargin at each stop off.
Once at Puerto Cuervito, we took a boat tour around this town where all the houses are on stilts. The population is about 3,000 and again, it amazes me that
people live like that. How? Kids were playing in the water, adults were sitting around on their porches or cleaning their boats. There was a school, a church and a restaurant, that was it. Electricity poles were dotted around so at night there would be light and no doubt some houses had TV´s but how amazingly peaceful and what a different way of living.
We left pleased that we had seen it and hopped on a bus for the return journey. On local buses drivers use whichever side of the road is smoothest +/or shortest distance around a corner. Hawkers will jump on at various points in the road selling nuts, liver cures, jewellery and drinks despite the no eating/drinking signs. Also there are no bus stops as such, people just flag the bus down and make a noise (whistle, bang on the door, yell) to alert the driver when they want to get off. A woman on got on with a live chicken! No one batted an eye.
Just heading out of Sanimaica, the police jumped on the bus and told everyone to get off as they were doing a check. We got off and realised it
Merida
Lovely Fruteria, which also sells veg and amazingly huge avocados. was a police check point and we would have to walk round the barriers to rejoin the bus. I asked the traffic official if it was OK to walk to the other side whilst he checked the bus, and he nodded. What I didn´t realise was that he thought I said could I go for a walk and as soon as we moved away from the rest of the bus passangers, two traffic officials asked to see our passports.
This was a little surreal as Sal and I had just been discussing whether we needed to always have our originals with us. I had dismissed it as being over cautious and saying a photocopy would always be sufficient. We showed our photocopies to the police who asked for our originals showing our visa stamp. We explained we did not have this on us, it was in the hotel, they told us to follow them. This was our second stupid mistake. Once inside the room they asked us to pay them $200, an enormous amount even for Sth Am. standards. Naturally, Sal did all the talking in Spanish keeping them talking too so they did not have time to think
what more they could do to us. Sal said we had no money on us. We were threatened with having to get a cab to our hotel to get our bank cards to get them money. Totally corrupt. Sal then said all we had on us was 40,000 bolivars (which is just under $20). Actually, Sal had just changed a load of money and had about 200,000 bolivars in his pocket. They told him to get out the money we had, to which he pulled out one note and then said I had the rest. I took out my purse of which we only keep small notes and coins and I showed them that. I also actually had another 10,000 bolivars. They went out the room, came back told us to leave the money on the table and follow them out.
We were then taken back to rejoin the people waiting for the bus, however, they still were talking about sending us to Macay (the next biggest city, miles away, which would mean we would miss our night bus and god knows what would happen to us). I guess they could hold us there and cause our life hell as we were technically illegal. However, after probably thinking they had nothing more to earn from us, they flicked our photocopies at us and we scrambled back on the bus and got the hell out of there before they changed their minds.
Moral: Always carry your passport with you at all times.
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