Out of Venezuela and onto Colombia

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Monday 16.03.09
This has been the first chance I ve had to update the blog in the last few days due to being on the move and events beyond my control; read on..........
There were only five residents staying in the posada in Merida - quiet season. In fact Merida is prolific with hotels and posadas. I made an early start as I wanted to see as much as possible of the area before moving on. The posáda manager told me that the teleferico (world famous because of its length) was closed for repairs, so I went down to the main plaza to see if I could get a tour. I was very lucky as one was organised and soon to leave for the mountains. I decided to join them; 700BVs, a reasonable price for a full days tour. The rest of the group in the minibus were all Venezuelans, so I had to ask the driver, who was doing a running commentary as he drove, to speak more slowly so I could keep up with him. I also sat in the front seat so I could get a good view and ask him questions. The minibus wound its was round hairpin bends and as we climbed higher in the mountains it got noticeably colder. We went through many small scenic picturesque villages; farming was the main income for them with a few tourist shops sprinkled around. We stopped at some view points, a monument to an Andean dog and a small stone-built chapel - unique (see photo). We continued climbing until we reached a restaurant where we had lunch - a Pizca Andina for me - soup with egg, vegetables, milk and herbs (tasty), followed by a fresh strawberry juice - strawberries seem to be the speciality of this mountain region. More hairpin bends and still climbing until we got to Culata National Park - about 4,000 metres above sea level. We saw some condors in large cages; walking and climbing was difficult because of shortness of breath (altitude). It started to rain and the clouds came down and covered the mountains; he drove to a glacial lake but not much of a view due to the cloud cover. On our way back down I saw some people with oxen ploughing the steep mountainside with a wooden plough. I tried to get a photo of them but the rain and distance made it difficult. We arrived back in the plaza about 5:30. I got back to the posada and worked out the next part of my journe into Colombia. There were two options. After a discussion with the popsada manager I decided to travel north to Maracaibo and then cross the border and onto Cartegena - a long journey. Had an evening meal in the restaurant attached tot he posada with a glass of wine; wine is not popular here and is quite expensive; most is imported. It had been a long day and I wanted an early start but got into conversation with one of the posada staff who turned out to be a graduate who could not get employment to match her skills so ended up helping in the posada. She said her husband was in the same situation and they would now like to leave and find employment in another country. She said she was typical of many graduates who qualify and end up unemployed. She also talked of the "List" - a document opposing Chaves signed by many people a few years back; those on the list are barred from getting many jobs. I eventually got to bed ready for an early start.

Tuesday 17.03.09 (St Patricks Day)
Got a taxi to the bus terminal and managed to get the 8:20 bus to Maracaibo, not due to arrive there until 5:00pm. There were only four of us on the bus initially but after a few stops it quickly filled; the girl sitting next to me was not very talkative and when she did speak it was difficul to hear her above the music blaring from the speaker above me. The journey seemed to drag interminable, broken only by the fantastic mountain scenery. We went through a few long tunnels and broke into daylight greeted by the towering peaks of the Andes either side of us. As we approached Maracaibo the scene changed to flatlands dotted with working oil derreks - from a distance they looked like the moving cogs in a clock. Pipelines criss-crossed and fed into one larger pipe. The sight of the Maracaibo lake was refreshing, its massive, as is the bridge across it; it took us about fifteen minutes to travel it - a great piece of engineering. When we hit the city the traffic came to a standstill and we ended up getting in at 6:30, an hour and a half late. Looked for an office to buy a ticket onwards but only one was selling tickets direct to Cartegena and their next bus was not until 6:oo next morning. The other option was to get a collectivo to the border and another from there. I decided to find a hotel, have some sleep and go for the 6:00 bus in the morning. I negotioted a reasonable rate with a nearby hotel, had a bite to eat (steak, diced yuka and salad) and an early night. The hotel staff called me at 12:15 instead of 4:15, and not after that so it fortunate I woke up myself. Took a long shower and got ready for the long trip.

Wednesday 18.03.09
The ticket was expensive 250 BVS - the most I paid in Venezuela; I waited for the bus which was coming from Caracas. While waiting chatted to a Venezuelan girl who arrived from Merida and was waiting for her mother to pick her up. Like the girl in the posada last night she was also a graduate (Law), and was not hopeful of getting a job. Two Canadian girls who were also on the night Merida coach were also travelling on to Colombia and were waiting for the bus from Caracas. They sat in the seat across from me and chatted about their travels. Things went well until we got to the border; after paying the exit tax, we were asked for more money to speed the process through (a bribe!). It didnt seem to help as the whole process was interminably slow, not helped by warding off the harassing moneychangers adn teh constant stream of peddlers through the bus. We were again asked for more money; this time I didnt oblige. As we were waiting I read one of the national papers and noticed an article about the St Particks Day celebrations in Ireland, complete with accompanying pictures. Changed my last few bolivars on the bñack market for some Colombian pesos. We noticed we didnt stop at the Colombian immigrationto have our passports stamped. Whe the 2 Canadians and I pointed out the ommision to the drivers assistant,he said its no problem. We stressed the need for him to go back, as we would be illegal in Colombia without an entry stamp; I could foresee many problems without it. He kept going back to the driver and discussing it with him. Only after over an hours journey from the border did hestop at Riohacha where he thought we could get them stamped instead. The assistant came off the coach with us, but as we would have to wait for the DAS (Immigration & Security Department)
our bags were taken off the bus so they could continue. We waited and waited but nothing happened; then the assistant with our original tickets disappeared.

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Comments

[Jennie]

party
K had a good party i'm told it was a real blast. They got a really gd app in Mayfair near the hotel as the app they booked had a leak so on friday they offered K this one at the same price. Guess they were double booked. Can't believe your trip is half way through. Saw a film yesterday on G islands it looks fabulous. Remember to phone K next Sunday. J