After only two days in Caracas, we knew we couldn’t spend a weekend in the city (it’s not that exciting or safe) and our hotel, like many in Caracas was just a shambles… more things didnt work than did work, and the place seemed to be running out of food…. Aparently due to the loss of value of the Bolivar Fuerte (or strong bolivar – the currency of Venezuela is named in honour of the great south american leader Simon Boliviar, and just in case you were wondering the country named after him uses the Boliviano as its currency) . Sorry i ramble, back to rapid currency devaluation, so the currency has lost at 30% of its value in the last year due to rampant inflation, so things are getting to expensive to buy, so businesses have just stopped buying stuff – like ingredients for food on the menu for example! But more on the Venezuelan black market later….
At least our hotel looked good:
So our initial plan to fly out to the island of Los Roques, but this cunning plan was quashed by the fact that in late January one of the two planes that services the island ‘got lost’ with its 35 passengers and 3 crew onboard, to date it’s still ‘lost’ though they have ‘found’ the body of the co-pilot. Poor beggars, it hasn’t been a good start to year for Venezuelan air travel, with another plane crashing while we were there killing 46 people flying out of a town high in the Andes.
So that was enough of a sign from the travel gods that this was probably not the best place to have a weekend involving a flight in a small plane, so instead we headed west of Caracas to a tiny little town called Puerto Colombia:
Porto Colombias main street
The town is at the end of a very very very very windy mountain road, the road is so windy they have a race up it every year, running or cycling, the road up has 360 corners on the upward drive, and climbs well over 1800 metres, from just near the equator warmth at the bottom, to nice and chilly at the top. Of course the road is rough and ready, often only one lane – especially it appeared around the blind corners, so all the cars, motorbikes, buses, tractors and trucks that drive the road spend the whole time honking, reversing or just barging their way through, exciting if somewhat scary stuff!
The road up through the mist
So we stayed at a beautiful little hacienda just on the edge of town, the hacienda was a converted cocoa plantation house, really cool, olde worlde rustic, with a great swimming pool, and a little restaurant/bar serving fresh seafood straight off the boats.
Must have a hammock to live here, my kind of lifestyle
The town itself was tiny and crazy, the oldest port in Venezuela, with just a couple of streets of old Spanish style houses and lots of little restaurants and bars, I imagine it is like Port Douglas (in QLD) was like before the resorts and developers arrived. I think the two taxi-buses that service the town and nearby Choroni pretty well sum the place up:
Thomas the tank engine – taxi
Postman pat post van – taxi
Local fishing boats were used to ferry sun seekers to the nearby beaches for a day of sun and surf, so on the Saturday morning we took got a 15 minute boat ride – no life vest, so safety briefing, just get in, sit down, and shut up, the waves were massive, each boat that made it out of the harbour without capsizing was accompanied by a cheers from the onlookers on the harbour, scary stuff, but the boat trip was definitely worth it, the beach was great, we were finally on the Caribbean!!!
The harbour – on Sunday morning, much calmer than Saturday!
The beach we went too had no land access, but like all the beaches along this coast, it was still full service – a family lived on the beach where they had built a little kitchen and bar – perfect for us, so we spent the day taking dips in the warm water, drinking ice cold beers and we had a cracking lunch with a german family we got talking too, fresh fish straight from the ocean grilled, with fried plantain (a kind of banana – but for cooking) and salad – the perfect meal for a beach, and only US$5 each including the beers!
After a relaxing day we headed back into town for another swim, some more ice cold beers – the only problem with their beers is the normal bottle is only 225mls, a mere nip of beer for people used to drinking a good English pint!
So Sunday we packed up and headed back to Caracas, a journey which had taken 5 hours on Friday, luckily it only took 2.5 hours on Sunday, we got talking to our driver and i asked him why everyone drove 4x4s in Venezuela, where as in Brazil and Colombia people just drove small hatch backs. He explained that petrol was cheap as chips in Venezuela thanks to the wonderful President Chavez, it was currently about US$10 for him to fill up his Toyota Landcruiser, but as he regarded this as still too expensive he usually bought his fuel on the black market, so to fill the 90 litre tank usually cost him US$2 – that’s US$0.02 a litre…. cheaper than a litre of bottled water, you can imagine his horror when we explained we were paying nearly a £1 a litre in England….
Ohh welll back to work..
also thanks for the correction info on the Chavez post, Chavez was infact a military leader, not a union official prior to becoming el presidente – must have got my south american dictators mixed up for a moment!