Salvador´s turned out to be a bit disappointing. It´s the 3rd largest city in Brazil, and is known for its strong African roots. I´d heard a lot about the music scene, Capoeria (a Brazillian martial art) and the beaches.
The historic centre was nice, but after Sao Luis and Olinda, it didn´t seem like much. It was also very touristy, and by the evening it seemed a bit unsafe. I´m staying in a nice hostel next to the beach, but even the beach is a bit small and overcrowded. I guess I could have tried to go out a bit at night, but after a series of long bus rides to get here, I just didn´t have the energy. Somehow, I haven´t taken to the city at all, and I spent most of the 3 days here lying on a hammock on the hostel porch and reading.
Leaving for Rio tomorrow and I´ll have a flat and an office for a month. My flat´s 2 minutes from Copacabana beach, and my office is on a hill overlooking Ipanema beach.
That´s it. Nothing too exciting or interesting happened over the last 3-4 days. Next post should be from Rio.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Olinda
I´d heard about Olinda from another traveller I met on the way to Sao Luis. She´s from Berlin and we´d spent quite a bit of time talking about Berlin. It was a city which really stunned me, and I was telling her that I want to go back to explore the cultural side of Berlin. Since it´s cheap a lot of young, creative people have moved there making it very hip in Europe. She told me that I should definitely go to Olinda because it´s got a great history of being an artist city.
Olinda´s on the northeast coast of Brazil and it was about 24 hrs on a direct bus. It´s essentially a suburb of the big city of Recife, so it took a while to get here. At the tourist office in Recife, I asked about a cheap hostel to stay in Olinda and was told to go to a place called Casa du Hilton. It´s my first time in staying at a place called the Hilton! It´s an interesting place though. It´s run by 2 young Brazillians, and is very basic but clean. Most of the other people staying here are Brazillian, except for 2 Germans (they´re everywhere) so it´s a nice change from some of the other hostels/posadas I´ve been staying in.
After the long bus ride, I was quite tired so I took a short nap. Spent the next half of the day, walking around aimlessly and was surprised by Olinda. I was a bit wary of coming here and expected to see a few art galleries geared for tourists and tonnes of foreigners. It´s quite unlike what I expected. There aren´t too many tourists (local or foreign) and the town is teeming with small art galleries. Most of the galleries are old houses where the artists are either working inside or sitting on porch staring at the passersby. It was easy to walk into any one and just try chatting with the owners, who don´t seem too desperate for you to buy their stuff. They seemed happy just living here.
The whole town is built around a small hill and feels like a big art exhibition. A lot of art on the walls, brightly coloured houses next to each other, a spectacular view from the top of the hill and quite a few old, rundown but comfortable cafes. It´s not too expensive either, and it´s very common to see a lot of old and young people just hanging around. Late in the evening, one of the cafes had a small band playing and it looked like it was a regular feature. The food and beer were cheap, and most of the people seemed to know each other. The whole place has a very authentic feel of being an artist colony. I spent 3 days here, doing nothing apart from wandering aimlessly through the streets, stumbling into small ateleries and enjoying the views. Since it´s the low season, there aren´t many tourists around, so I´ve been lucky to enjoy Olinda without any crowds. Even the hostel I´m staying in is full of Brazilians, and going out with them at night has been fun.
I´d spent 3 months living in Montmartre just before heading out to South America, and Montmartre has a history of being an artist enclave. Unfortunately, it´s become very gentrified and expensive and it´s driven away a lot of creative people. In cities like New York, London and Paris it seems almost impossible for someone to survive now as an artist, unless you move off to a cheaper suburb. How much longer, I wonder, before Olinda gets taken over by developers and yuppies?
Olinda´s on the northeast coast of Brazil and it was about 24 hrs on a direct bus. It´s essentially a suburb of the big city of Recife, so it took a while to get here. At the tourist office in Recife, I asked about a cheap hostel to stay in Olinda and was told to go to a place called Casa du Hilton. It´s my first time in staying at a place called the Hilton! It´s an interesting place though. It´s run by 2 young Brazillians, and is very basic but clean. Most of the other people staying here are Brazillian, except for 2 Germans (they´re everywhere) so it´s a nice change from some of the other hostels/posadas I´ve been staying in.
After the long bus ride, I was quite tired so I took a short nap. Spent the next half of the day, walking around aimlessly and was surprised by Olinda. I was a bit wary of coming here and expected to see a few art galleries geared for tourists and tonnes of foreigners. It´s quite unlike what I expected. There aren´t too many tourists (local or foreign) and the town is teeming with small art galleries. Most of the galleries are old houses where the artists are either working inside or sitting on porch staring at the passersby. It was easy to walk into any one and just try chatting with the owners, who don´t seem too desperate for you to buy their stuff. They seemed happy just living here.
The whole town is built around a small hill and feels like a big art exhibition. A lot of art on the walls, brightly coloured houses next to each other, a spectacular view from the top of the hill and quite a few old, rundown but comfortable cafes. It´s not too expensive either, and it´s very common to see a lot of old and young people just hanging around. Late in the evening, one of the cafes had a small band playing and it looked like it was a regular feature. The food and beer were cheap, and most of the people seemed to know each other. The whole place has a very authentic feel of being an artist colony. I spent 3 days here, doing nothing apart from wandering aimlessly through the streets, stumbling into small ateleries and enjoying the views. Since it´s the low season, there aren´t many tourists around, so I´ve been lucky to enjoy Olinda without any crowds. Even the hostel I´m staying in is full of Brazilians, and going out with them at night has been fun.
I´d spent 3 months living in Montmartre just before heading out to South America, and Montmartre has a history of being an artist enclave. Unfortunately, it´s become very gentrified and expensive and it´s driven away a lot of creative people. In cities like New York, London and Paris it seems almost impossible for someone to survive now as an artist, unless you move off to a cheaper suburb. How much longer, I wonder, before Olinda gets taken over by developers and yuppies?
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Beach Bum in Brazil
After getting off at Sao Luis, I realised my Japanese friend wanted to go to a place called Barreirinhas. I´ve been travelling without a travel book, and have been relying only on recommendations from fellow travellers and locals, so I decided to follow him. He told me that a friend of his had told him to definitely go there because of the sand dunes and lakes.
Got there around noon, and after 5 days on a boat, a 12 hr overnight bus ride and a 4 hr ride, I was exhausted. I also had a slight cold and fever, probably due to all the travelling for the last 3 weeks, so I took it easy for the next 3 days. The only thing I did, apart from lying on a hammock and reading, was go with some other people on a trip to the sand dunes and swim in the lakes.
Barreirinhas is a bit of a resort town, but it´s low season right now, and it was quite deserted. There were a bunch of cheap posadas waiting to let out rooms at low rates, and we picked a nice one on the waterfront. It had hammocks dangling along the river, and only 3 other occupants in the entire hotel. All of us were solo travellers, who´d been travelling for at least 6 months each.
The Japanese guy opened up a bit finally and told us how he started in Mexico city, went all the way down to Argentina, took a cruise to Antarctica, came back up to Venezuela and is now heading down to Chile. In the next week, he plans to do 2 long bus rides of 48 hrs each. He barely speaks Spanish and Portugese and is probably the quietest, loneliest traveller I´ve come across. It´s his 4th trip of about a year in a different continent so he seems pretty comfortable travelling his own way. I asked him considering the Japanese work so hard and travel very little, why he travelled so much. He said - I don´t like working.
One of the other travellers is an American, who´s on a 5-6 year trip around the world on his motorcycle. He started 2 years ago from Colorado, went up to Alaska, then all the way down to Argentina and is now back up north. He´s had more problems with visas and permits because of his motorcycle, and was telling me about how he´d sneaked across various borders to avoid getting his motorbike impounded for lack of registration or insurance. Unfortunately, he´s heading further north and not south, otherwise I could have dumped some of my luggage and gotten a ride with him down to Rio. Another time. This is the link to his website.
The other two travellers are more normal...just backpacking around Brazil for about 6 months. There were headed to Sao Luis, so I shared a car ride with them. Sao Luis is a beautiful city. It´s a world heritage site with lovely colonial architecture, friendly people, great nightlife, nice beaches and .... not much else.
Will head out of here tomorrow to Olinda, spend a few days there, go down to Salvador, spend a few days there, then reach Rio by May 1st. If you look at a map, you´ll understand the title.
Got there around noon, and after 5 days on a boat, a 12 hr overnight bus ride and a 4 hr ride, I was exhausted. I also had a slight cold and fever, probably due to all the travelling for the last 3 weeks, so I took it easy for the next 3 days. The only thing I did, apart from lying on a hammock and reading, was go with some other people on a trip to the sand dunes and swim in the lakes.
Barreirinhas is a bit of a resort town, but it´s low season right now, and it was quite deserted. There were a bunch of cheap posadas waiting to let out rooms at low rates, and we picked a nice one on the waterfront. It had hammocks dangling along the river, and only 3 other occupants in the entire hotel. All of us were solo travellers, who´d been travelling for at least 6 months each.
The Japanese guy opened up a bit finally and told us how he started in Mexico city, went all the way down to Argentina, took a cruise to Antarctica, came back up to Venezuela and is now heading down to Chile. In the next week, he plans to do 2 long bus rides of 48 hrs each. He barely speaks Spanish and Portugese and is probably the quietest, loneliest traveller I´ve come across. It´s his 4th trip of about a year in a different continent so he seems pretty comfortable travelling his own way. I asked him considering the Japanese work so hard and travel very little, why he travelled so much. He said - I don´t like working.
One of the other travellers is an American, who´s on a 5-6 year trip around the world on his motorcycle. He started 2 years ago from Colorado, went up to Alaska, then all the way down to Argentina and is now back up north. He´s had more problems with visas and permits because of his motorcycle, and was telling me about how he´d sneaked across various borders to avoid getting his motorbike impounded for lack of registration or insurance. Unfortunately, he´s heading further north and not south, otherwise I could have dumped some of my luggage and gotten a ride with him down to Rio. Another time. This is the link to his website.
The other two travellers are more normal...just backpacking around Brazil for about 6 months. There were headed to Sao Luis, so I shared a car ride with them. Sao Luis is a beautiful city. It´s a world heritage site with lovely colonial architecture, friendly people, great nightlife, nice beaches and .... not much else.
Will head out of here tomorrow to Olinda, spend a few days there, go down to Salvador, spend a few days there, then reach Rio by May 1st. If you look at a map, you´ll understand the title.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
The boat ride
Just reached Belem after a 5 day boat ride. Yes, 5 days. Till now, I´d never been on a boat for than a few hours. Exactly a year ago, I ran the Boston marathon. After this boat ride, I feel like I just finished another marathon.
The 2 Australians I´d met last month had told me that they really enjoyed the boat ride. Since there were 2 of them, they shared a cabin, which wasn´t too much more than going hammock class. When I reached Manaus, I expected to bump into some other backpackers, who´d be willing to share a cabin. It´s the low season right now in the rainforests, so I couldn´t see any other tourists. After the jungle trip, I went straight with E to the docks, bought a hammock, a ticket for hammock class and some water.
The first day was the hardest. It was hot and humid, and the boat was packed. The big boat (which I was taking) goes from Manaus to Belem only twice a week, so it´s both a cargo and passenger boat. I managed to push my way through the crowds, picked out a nice spot for my hammock and tied it up. There was a deck upstairs with a small bar and music played non-stop, so I decided to head up there. Took out the most essential items into the top of my big packpack (which doubles up as a big pouch) and headed upstairs. If someone wanted to steal something from my bags, then they would have to wade through some smelly clothes.
The Manaus port is a big hub of activity. The crowds, noise and chaos resembled a major train station in India and till the last minute, there were a lot of people jumping onto the boat to sell stuff. The boat left about 2 hours late, so I just sat upstairs, bought a bottle of beer and listened to some Samba. Went down later at night, and had a very uncomfortable first night. An elderly lady´s hammock had torn its rope, so she´d tied it to mine and was directly underneath me as a result. I couldn´t understand what she was saying so I didn´t object. I could make out she was grateful for me not complaining. It was weird sleeping on a hammock on a boat as it kept swaying gently. While it helped to put everyone to sleep, there were times when the boat got unsteady and everyone´s hammocks swung like pendulums and bumped into each other. Somehow pulled through the first night.
The next 4 days went by slowly, but I got used to the pace. Wake up at 6 for a basic breakfast of bread and coffee. Read a book till 11 and then have lunch. Take a short nap, walk up to the deck, have a coke, listen to music, watch the rainforests and wait till dinner. Dinner would be at 5 and after 530, it got a bit hard to kill time, especially if it rained. Nobody on board spoke any English, and after 2 days I noticed a Japanese backpacker who spoke some. It was hard to communicate, so the 5 days went by in a state of silence.
I guess the main benefits of taking such a long boat ride are the small things one notices. The thick jungle, the rundown huts and villages, the kids riding out on their canoes to catch a glimpse of the big boat and the small docks which were waiting eagerly for the cargo in the boat. Rivers are like highways in the rainforests as there are no roads. So the arrival of the boat is a big event in the small towns.
The most endearing moment was seeing a few kids paddle up very close to the boat, throw a hook onto the side and then climb on to the boat to sell some fruits. Thankfully, the crew helped them latch onto the boat and everyone the boat bought the fruits, bringing a big smile to the kids´ faces.
Anyway, I reached Belem this morning and from what I can make out it´s not a very pleasant place to stay in. The Japanese traveller is heading to Sao Luis, a small town on the coast and I´m heading there with him. Will probably spend a few days there before making my way down to Rio. It´ll take a while to get there. I didn´t realise how big Brazil is.
PS comments are open again, but please, don´t get too serious or personal :-)
The 2 Australians I´d met last month had told me that they really enjoyed the boat ride. Since there were 2 of them, they shared a cabin, which wasn´t too much more than going hammock class. When I reached Manaus, I expected to bump into some other backpackers, who´d be willing to share a cabin. It´s the low season right now in the rainforests, so I couldn´t see any other tourists. After the jungle trip, I went straight with E to the docks, bought a hammock, a ticket for hammock class and some water.
The first day was the hardest. It was hot and humid, and the boat was packed. The big boat (which I was taking) goes from Manaus to Belem only twice a week, so it´s both a cargo and passenger boat. I managed to push my way through the crowds, picked out a nice spot for my hammock and tied it up. There was a deck upstairs with a small bar and music played non-stop, so I decided to head up there. Took out the most essential items into the top of my big packpack (which doubles up as a big pouch) and headed upstairs. If someone wanted to steal something from my bags, then they would have to wade through some smelly clothes.
The Manaus port is a big hub of activity. The crowds, noise and chaos resembled a major train station in India and till the last minute, there were a lot of people jumping onto the boat to sell stuff. The boat left about 2 hours late, so I just sat upstairs, bought a bottle of beer and listened to some Samba. Went down later at night, and had a very uncomfortable first night. An elderly lady´s hammock had torn its rope, so she´d tied it to mine and was directly underneath me as a result. I couldn´t understand what she was saying so I didn´t object. I could make out she was grateful for me not complaining. It was weird sleeping on a hammock on a boat as it kept swaying gently. While it helped to put everyone to sleep, there were times when the boat got unsteady and everyone´s hammocks swung like pendulums and bumped into each other. Somehow pulled through the first night.
The next 4 days went by slowly, but I got used to the pace. Wake up at 6 for a basic breakfast of bread and coffee. Read a book till 11 and then have lunch. Take a short nap, walk up to the deck, have a coke, listen to music, watch the rainforests and wait till dinner. Dinner would be at 5 and after 530, it got a bit hard to kill time, especially if it rained. Nobody on board spoke any English, and after 2 days I noticed a Japanese backpacker who spoke some. It was hard to communicate, so the 5 days went by in a state of silence.
I guess the main benefits of taking such a long boat ride are the small things one notices. The thick jungle, the rundown huts and villages, the kids riding out on their canoes to catch a glimpse of the big boat and the small docks which were waiting eagerly for the cargo in the boat. Rivers are like highways in the rainforests as there are no roads. So the arrival of the boat is a big event in the small towns.
The most endearing moment was seeing a few kids paddle up very close to the boat, throw a hook onto the side and then climb on to the boat to sell some fruits. Thankfully, the crew helped them latch onto the boat and everyone the boat bought the fruits, bringing a big smile to the kids´ faces.
Anyway, I reached Belem this morning and from what I can make out it´s not a very pleasant place to stay in. The Japanese traveller is heading to Sao Luis, a small town on the coast and I´m heading there with him. Will probably spend a few days there before making my way down to Rio. It´ll take a while to get there. I didn´t realise how big Brazil is.
PS comments are open again, but please, don´t get too serious or personal :-)
Friday, April 13, 2007
The jungle
This was my first experience of a real jungle trip, though for an experienced jungle person it was probably scratching the surface. It lasted for 5 days, and though I´d like to do a longer one sometime, I´m happy I chose to go for just 5 days.
The beginning was a bit ominous. I woke up early and it was raining heavily. Left my backpack with the hotel and went to meet the trip organizer. The guide, E, showed up late. I asked about the other 3 Canadians who were supposed to come with me, but apparently one of them was sick and they´d backed out. So it was going to be just me and the guide for the next 5 days. Considering it was my first trip to a jungle, and I didn´t speak a word of Portugese (E was fluent in 5 languages though) I considered backing out. But decided to go ahead anyway.
We took a taxi down to the port, bought some food and then hopped on to a speed boat. Halfway across the river, we stopped, and E told me this was the meeting point of two rivers (Negro and Solimoes). It´s unlike the meeting point of two rivers. Rio Negro is black and fast, and Solimoes is brown and slow. So the two meet, but don´t merge and travel side by side for about 7km. It´s quite amazing to see and the boat switched between both rivers to show the difference in speeds. Got off at another point and then E took his own canoe with an engine and we headed off to the jungle lodge. It took about 2 hours to get there, and it rained off and on. It´s the winter here and so it rains a lot. It´s also the low season for tourists, so by the time I reached the lodge I was the only occupant. It was pretty basic, with a few rooms and one bathroom. Had lunch and since it was raining decided to take a nap on the hammock stretched out on the porch.
The rest of day followed a clear plan. Canoeing for a few hours through some creek, Piranha fishing, dolphin watching and alligator catching. Piranha fishing turned out to be deceptively easy, and I managed to catch about 7 of them. The first time I caught one, I got so excited and scared seeing it dangling in front of my eyes that the canoe almost capsized. E decided to refer to me as jungle boy after that, clearly laughing at my ineptness. Went alligator catching at night, and E is quite a daredevil. He´s lived in the jungle all his life and spent a couple of years in the army engaged in jungle warfares. He´s got a reputation of being the toughest and craziest guide around, and loves to show off. Watching him catch an alligator with his bare hands, play with it like a puppy an disdainfully throw it back was entertaining.
The first day had been a bit hectic so I told him at the end of the day that since I was the only one on the trip, I did´t mind skipping out on a few touristy things, but preferred to spend more time just doing a couple of things. They could be touristy or not, but I told him to pick out things he enjoyed. His eyes lit up at the prospect and his attitude towards me changed. We spent the next day canoeing down the river to a small village. He pointed a small piece of land which he´d bought a year ago and plans to build a small lodge of his own. It´s pretty far from Manaus and is a great point for catching both sunrise and sunset. In the distance is a small island which is a meeting point for two species of birds, and his neighbour is a herbal doctor. Also, with a glint in his eyes, not too far away was the house of the woman of his dreams. He showed me the plan, and we spent a while walking around the area where he plans to build it.
Spent the rest of day with his friends, and though I couldn´t understand a word of what was being spoken, had a nice time playing soccer with a few kids. E went out soon, caught a small pig with his barehands, and in front of me, cleaned it and then barbecued it. It was grotesque to watch but great to taste. While it was cooking, we headed out on the canoe in the dark to a few friends of his and drank caipirinhas till late. Thankfully, one of his cousins decided to ride the canoe with us, as he knew E was known to be quite reckless. It was quite eery though, canoeing back in the dark with E pointing out things in his semi-drunken state. Feasted on the pig and then passed out on a hammock in the porch with a mosquito net over me.
Woke up the next day with a bad case of diahorrea. It was bound to happen at some point and I felt foolish not carrying any antibiotics. E´s neighbour went out to some tree, tore off the bark, scraped it on something (the dried tongue of a fish), mixed it with water and gave it to me. It tasted horrible, but in an hour I was fine. I was given a bottle full of it, and am carrying it with me in case of an emergency.
Spent the next 2 days on a trek through the jungle. Since it was just the two of us, E took us to a fairly remote part along the river, through some crazy creeks and we got off. It was part of some forest reserve, and it was thick, dense forest. Just like I´d imagined it to be. The trek was completely different from anything I´d ever done. Instead of a tent and sleeping bag, we each carried a hammock and mosquito net, bugspray, a machete and some food. It was broad daylight, but deep inside the jungle it could have been evening. The light filters through, but to take any pictures I had to use a flash. Even when it rained heavily, I could hear it but not feel too much of it. Felt more like a drizzle. Walking through the jungle wasn´t easy and we had to use the machetes a lot to clear the way. Throughout, E told me about all kinds of plants and trees that we spotted, animal sounds in the distance and about his experiences fighting the Colombian guerrillas. It was a bit like being inside a National Geographic documentary.
Camped at a clearing somewhere, and had to chop some wood to set up the hammocks and plastic sheet for cover. It took a while for the food to cook, and E decided to teach me some Portugese. He dropped out of school at a young age, but has worked as a guide for almost 10 years and has picked up a lot of languages because of all the tourists he deals with. He did a great imitation of some Japanese tourists, who always said - Interesting, very nice. That became our motto for the rest of the trip, and each time he pointed out something, I would bow and say - Interesting, very nice.
The night of the trek was a bit scary though. After being harassed by bugs, I´d decided to sleep early and E also crashed out early. I was sleeping with my bug spray but somehow the jungle sounds kept me awake. After about an hour, I could hear E snoring quietly, and heard something which scared me a bit.
I could hear footsteps in the distance. First, I thought it was some other sound. After 2 minutes, it was clearly some animal as I could hear its breathing as well. There were obviously no humans around for miles, so I called across to E. He woke up, heard the same sound and hissed - stay quiet and don´t make any noise. The next 10 minutes passed very, very slowly. What added to the uneasiness was the fact that I was suspended in mid-air armed with nothing but bug spray. After 10 minutes, E said - Relax, it´s an amadillo. I relaxed, and then asked a minute later - What´s an amadillo? He laughed, and then told me it comes out a night to go hunting for bugs and insects along the river. I guess the amadillo was cruising the jungle.
Woke up next day, and got badly bitten by ants while eating breakfast. Went on the canoe up to another point and for a longer hike. By the later afternoon I was a bit tired with the bugs. Asked E about the boat from Manaus to Belem, and he said there was one on Friday and the next one left on Wednesday. I had no intention of staying in Manaus for 5 days, and the boat takes 4 days, so I decided to take it on Friday. That meant we didn´t camp in the jungle that night, but headed back to the lodge. It took a while, but after being attacked by bugs for 2 days, I was happy to be back in a clean bed.
Woke up on Friday, and headed back to Manaus. Bought a hammock for the ride (the private cabins were too expensive) and am heading off now in a couple of hours to Belem. Should get there sometime on Tuesday.
The beginning was a bit ominous. I woke up early and it was raining heavily. Left my backpack with the hotel and went to meet the trip organizer. The guide, E, showed up late. I asked about the other 3 Canadians who were supposed to come with me, but apparently one of them was sick and they´d backed out. So it was going to be just me and the guide for the next 5 days. Considering it was my first trip to a jungle, and I didn´t speak a word of Portugese (E was fluent in 5 languages though) I considered backing out. But decided to go ahead anyway.
We took a taxi down to the port, bought some food and then hopped on to a speed boat. Halfway across the river, we stopped, and E told me this was the meeting point of two rivers (Negro and Solimoes). It´s unlike the meeting point of two rivers. Rio Negro is black and fast, and Solimoes is brown and slow. So the two meet, but don´t merge and travel side by side for about 7km. It´s quite amazing to see and the boat switched between both rivers to show the difference in speeds. Got off at another point and then E took his own canoe with an engine and we headed off to the jungle lodge. It took about 2 hours to get there, and it rained off and on. It´s the winter here and so it rains a lot. It´s also the low season for tourists, so by the time I reached the lodge I was the only occupant. It was pretty basic, with a few rooms and one bathroom. Had lunch and since it was raining decided to take a nap on the hammock stretched out on the porch.
The rest of day followed a clear plan. Canoeing for a few hours through some creek, Piranha fishing, dolphin watching and alligator catching. Piranha fishing turned out to be deceptively easy, and I managed to catch about 7 of them. The first time I caught one, I got so excited and scared seeing it dangling in front of my eyes that the canoe almost capsized. E decided to refer to me as jungle boy after that, clearly laughing at my ineptness. Went alligator catching at night, and E is quite a daredevil. He´s lived in the jungle all his life and spent a couple of years in the army engaged in jungle warfares. He´s got a reputation of being the toughest and craziest guide around, and loves to show off. Watching him catch an alligator with his bare hands, play with it like a puppy an disdainfully throw it back was entertaining.
The first day had been a bit hectic so I told him at the end of the day that since I was the only one on the trip, I did´t mind skipping out on a few touristy things, but preferred to spend more time just doing a couple of things. They could be touristy or not, but I told him to pick out things he enjoyed. His eyes lit up at the prospect and his attitude towards me changed. We spent the next day canoeing down the river to a small village. He pointed a small piece of land which he´d bought a year ago and plans to build a small lodge of his own. It´s pretty far from Manaus and is a great point for catching both sunrise and sunset. In the distance is a small island which is a meeting point for two species of birds, and his neighbour is a herbal doctor. Also, with a glint in his eyes, not too far away was the house of the woman of his dreams. He showed me the plan, and we spent a while walking around the area where he plans to build it.
Spent the rest of day with his friends, and though I couldn´t understand a word of what was being spoken, had a nice time playing soccer with a few kids. E went out soon, caught a small pig with his barehands, and in front of me, cleaned it and then barbecued it. It was grotesque to watch but great to taste. While it was cooking, we headed out on the canoe in the dark to a few friends of his and drank caipirinhas till late. Thankfully, one of his cousins decided to ride the canoe with us, as he knew E was known to be quite reckless. It was quite eery though, canoeing back in the dark with E pointing out things in his semi-drunken state. Feasted on the pig and then passed out on a hammock in the porch with a mosquito net over me.
Woke up the next day with a bad case of diahorrea. It was bound to happen at some point and I felt foolish not carrying any antibiotics. E´s neighbour went out to some tree, tore off the bark, scraped it on something (the dried tongue of a fish), mixed it with water and gave it to me. It tasted horrible, but in an hour I was fine. I was given a bottle full of it, and am carrying it with me in case of an emergency.
Spent the next 2 days on a trek through the jungle. Since it was just the two of us, E took us to a fairly remote part along the river, through some crazy creeks and we got off. It was part of some forest reserve, and it was thick, dense forest. Just like I´d imagined it to be. The trek was completely different from anything I´d ever done. Instead of a tent and sleeping bag, we each carried a hammock and mosquito net, bugspray, a machete and some food. It was broad daylight, but deep inside the jungle it could have been evening. The light filters through, but to take any pictures I had to use a flash. Even when it rained heavily, I could hear it but not feel too much of it. Felt more like a drizzle. Walking through the jungle wasn´t easy and we had to use the machetes a lot to clear the way. Throughout, E told me about all kinds of plants and trees that we spotted, animal sounds in the distance and about his experiences fighting the Colombian guerrillas. It was a bit like being inside a National Geographic documentary.
Camped at a clearing somewhere, and had to chop some wood to set up the hammocks and plastic sheet for cover. It took a while for the food to cook, and E decided to teach me some Portugese. He dropped out of school at a young age, but has worked as a guide for almost 10 years and has picked up a lot of languages because of all the tourists he deals with. He did a great imitation of some Japanese tourists, who always said - Interesting, very nice. That became our motto for the rest of the trip, and each time he pointed out something, I would bow and say - Interesting, very nice.
The night of the trek was a bit scary though. After being harassed by bugs, I´d decided to sleep early and E also crashed out early. I was sleeping with my bug spray but somehow the jungle sounds kept me awake. After about an hour, I could hear E snoring quietly, and heard something which scared me a bit.
I could hear footsteps in the distance. First, I thought it was some other sound. After 2 minutes, it was clearly some animal as I could hear its breathing as well. There were obviously no humans around for miles, so I called across to E. He woke up, heard the same sound and hissed - stay quiet and don´t make any noise. The next 10 minutes passed very, very slowly. What added to the uneasiness was the fact that I was suspended in mid-air armed with nothing but bug spray. After 10 minutes, E said - Relax, it´s an amadillo. I relaxed, and then asked a minute later - What´s an amadillo? He laughed, and then told me it comes out a night to go hunting for bugs and insects along the river. I guess the amadillo was cruising the jungle.
Woke up next day, and got badly bitten by ants while eating breakfast. Went on the canoe up to another point and for a longer hike. By the later afternoon I was a bit tired with the bugs. Asked E about the boat from Manaus to Belem, and he said there was one on Friday and the next one left on Wednesday. I had no intention of staying in Manaus for 5 days, and the boat takes 4 days, so I decided to take it on Friday. That meant we didn´t camp in the jungle that night, but headed back to the lodge. It took a while, but after being attacked by bugs for 2 days, I was happy to be back in a clean bed.
Woke up on Friday, and headed back to Manaus. Bought a hammock for the ride (the private cabins were too expensive) and am heading off now in a couple of hours to Belem. Should get there sometime on Tuesday.
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Reaching Manaus
Finally managed to get to Manaus, but it turned out to be trickier than I expected.
After writing my last post, I bumped into two Australian girls at the internet cafe. They´d both just come up from Rio to Venezuela, so I started asking them about the trip since my plan is to get to Rio at the end of this month. They told me there were two problems I was going to face - a return ticket and yellow fever vaccination.
The return ticket was something I knew I could manage. But the yellow fever vaccine was going to be a big pain.
The main problem was that I needed a certificate of the vaccine. If I didn´t have one, then apparently the immigration officials were very strict about it. Two British guys overheard us talking about it and said one of them had a hard time. He was refused entry till he got the proper vaccine. I asked if it was possible to get a vaccine at the border, and they said yes, but that´s not enough. The vaccine takes 10 days to set in, so one has to wait for 10 days after that. I asked the hotel manager about it, and he suggested that I go to the local hospital, get a vaccine and bribe them a bit to get it predated. There was no way I´d be let in without the certificate, he said.
I went off to the hospital, and they said they didn´t give the injection at the hospital. They did it at the border only. It was also Easter weekend, so my chances of finding anything open weren´t too good. I decided the only thing to do was to just head to the border and see what happens. Packed my bags, told the hotel guy that I might be back and took a shared taxi.
I went in to the immigration office, and saw two offices - one for passport control and the other for the yellow fever vaccination. Venezuelans and Brazillians don´t need visas to travel between the border, and a national ID card is enough. I managed to get my passport stamped and then walked to the vaccination office. There was a problem though.
The vaccination office refused to predate the certificate, and I realised that trying to bribe them in front of about 50 other people waiting in line would probably land me in jail. So I decided to not get the injection which led to a problem. Since my passport had the exit stamp, I had to leave, but with no vaccination certificate, the Brazillian immigration guys wouldnt let me in. I was sort of in no man´s land. I decided to just walk across the border and see if I could somehow work my way around it.
Walked for about 5 minutes along the highway connecting the two border points with my backpack, and get kept trying to come up with some excuse. Thought about lying and saying that I got it in Paris for the visa interview but lost my certificate while travelling. But I didn´t think it would work. Anyway, I walked slowly and tried to see if I could just keep walking without getting stopped. Realised that nobody really cared, but I also knew that without an entry stamp, I was going to risk deportation if I was asked for my passport sometime later.
Went to the immigration office, filled out the form, and after a couple of questions, they stamped my passport. Somehow they didn´t ask for the certificate. But I´d been told that the certificate is normally asked for by the customs people. The customs office was a bit further down the road, and I knew I had to somehow bypass that place.
In the road between the immigration and customs offices, there were a bunch of shops and a few taxis. Saw a family of three talking to a taxi driver, and went closer. Realised they weren´t speaking Spanish, so they had to be Brazillians. I knew that for a shared taxi, the driver always looks for 4 people to fill up the car and so the family was probably looking for a 4th person. I noticed that taxis weren´t stopped by the customs officials as they were carrying people with minimal luggage. It was the buses and private cars which were getting stopped. I also realised that Brazillian citizens shouldn´t need a certificate, so my best bet was to get in with them, and hope that the customs guys would think I was Brazillian.
There is only one road from the border all the way to Manaus, so I told the taxi driver to take me to Boa Vista, which is the first major town along the way. I hopped into the taxi, and kept both backpacks in the trunk so that I didn´t look like a tourist. The taxi went past the customs guy, slowed down for a few seconds and then got waved on.
I was still a bit paranoid that there would be another stop, but there were none. The taxi went straight through and 3 hours later I reached Boa Vista, bought a ticket for the overnight bus to Manaus and reached here in the morning. The two Australians had given me a lot of tips for Manaus, so I managed to find a nice, cheap hotel and will head off on a trip to the rainforests soon.
One more victory for me against immigration officials. Am heading out tomorrow for a 5 day jungle trip.
After writing my last post, I bumped into two Australian girls at the internet cafe. They´d both just come up from Rio to Venezuela, so I started asking them about the trip since my plan is to get to Rio at the end of this month. They told me there were two problems I was going to face - a return ticket and yellow fever vaccination.
The return ticket was something I knew I could manage. But the yellow fever vaccine was going to be a big pain.
The main problem was that I needed a certificate of the vaccine. If I didn´t have one, then apparently the immigration officials were very strict about it. Two British guys overheard us talking about it and said one of them had a hard time. He was refused entry till he got the proper vaccine. I asked if it was possible to get a vaccine at the border, and they said yes, but that´s not enough. The vaccine takes 10 days to set in, so one has to wait for 10 days after that. I asked the hotel manager about it, and he suggested that I go to the local hospital, get a vaccine and bribe them a bit to get it predated. There was no way I´d be let in without the certificate, he said.
I went off to the hospital, and they said they didn´t give the injection at the hospital. They did it at the border only. It was also Easter weekend, so my chances of finding anything open weren´t too good. I decided the only thing to do was to just head to the border and see what happens. Packed my bags, told the hotel guy that I might be back and took a shared taxi.
I went in to the immigration office, and saw two offices - one for passport control and the other for the yellow fever vaccination. Venezuelans and Brazillians don´t need visas to travel between the border, and a national ID card is enough. I managed to get my passport stamped and then walked to the vaccination office. There was a problem though.
The vaccination office refused to predate the certificate, and I realised that trying to bribe them in front of about 50 other people waiting in line would probably land me in jail. So I decided to not get the injection which led to a problem. Since my passport had the exit stamp, I had to leave, but with no vaccination certificate, the Brazillian immigration guys wouldnt let me in. I was sort of in no man´s land. I decided to just walk across the border and see if I could somehow work my way around it.
Walked for about 5 minutes along the highway connecting the two border points with my backpack, and get kept trying to come up with some excuse. Thought about lying and saying that I got it in Paris for the visa interview but lost my certificate while travelling. But I didn´t think it would work. Anyway, I walked slowly and tried to see if I could just keep walking without getting stopped. Realised that nobody really cared, but I also knew that without an entry stamp, I was going to risk deportation if I was asked for my passport sometime later.
Went to the immigration office, filled out the form, and after a couple of questions, they stamped my passport. Somehow they didn´t ask for the certificate. But I´d been told that the certificate is normally asked for by the customs people. The customs office was a bit further down the road, and I knew I had to somehow bypass that place.
In the road between the immigration and customs offices, there were a bunch of shops and a few taxis. Saw a family of three talking to a taxi driver, and went closer. Realised they weren´t speaking Spanish, so they had to be Brazillians. I knew that for a shared taxi, the driver always looks for 4 people to fill up the car and so the family was probably looking for a 4th person. I noticed that taxis weren´t stopped by the customs officials as they were carrying people with minimal luggage. It was the buses and private cars which were getting stopped. I also realised that Brazillian citizens shouldn´t need a certificate, so my best bet was to get in with them, and hope that the customs guys would think I was Brazillian.
There is only one road from the border all the way to Manaus, so I told the taxi driver to take me to Boa Vista, which is the first major town along the way. I hopped into the taxi, and kept both backpacks in the trunk so that I didn´t look like a tourist. The taxi went past the customs guy, slowed down for a few seconds and then got waved on.
I was still a bit paranoid that there would be another stop, but there were none. The taxi went straight through and 3 hours later I reached Boa Vista, bought a ticket for the overnight bus to Manaus and reached here in the morning. The two Australians had given me a lot of tips for Manaus, so I managed to find a nice, cheap hotel and will head off on a trip to the rainforests soon.
One more victory for me against immigration officials. Am heading out tomorrow for a 5 day jungle trip.
Friday, April 06, 2007
Chirikayen
Just got back after a 3 day trek to Chirikayen. Chirikayen is one of the many tepuis (flat top mountains) in this region. I didn't know much about this part of Venezuela and only read about it 2 days before coming. Venezuela's amazingly blessed with natural beauty, but the Gran Sabana region with its tepuis is its most unique feature.
Roraima is the mountain which everyone normally tries to hike to, but when I got to Santa Elena, I realised it was completely booked. I've never been a big fan of going on a trek which is so popular, so I wasn't too unhappy about it. But one of the trekking agencies told us about an alternative, Chirikayen. The 2 Germans I met on the bus were keen on going, and we ended up meeting another British couple who joined us. Permits are required and the trek is through parts of the rainforests, so we decided to go with an agency, which provided us with a guide and a porter.
The trek wasn't too strenuous and it was only 3 days. The weather was awful and I was relieved that I didn't go on the 6 day Roraima trek. It rained a lot, but thankfully on the day that we reached the top, it was clear and gave some spectacular views of the Sabana and the rainforests. Having a guide was useful, as he told us a lot about the uniqueness of the region and the species which are found only on the top of the Tepuis. Having done most of my hiking in moutains, it was a new experience - camping on a flat top mountain, hiking through the jungle and seeing plants which are only found here.
Anyway, I'm back in Santa Elena now. It's a sleepy small town, but has a certain charm to it. I'm a bit tired after all the travelling and hiking, so I'm going to chill out here for a couple of days before making my way down to Brazil. Next post should hopefully be from Manaus.
Been trying to upload pictures to this blog, but it's taking too long. Soon, hopefully.
Roraima is the mountain which everyone normally tries to hike to, but when I got to Santa Elena, I realised it was completely booked. I've never been a big fan of going on a trek which is so popular, so I wasn't too unhappy about it. But one of the trekking agencies told us about an alternative, Chirikayen. The 2 Germans I met on the bus were keen on going, and we ended up meeting another British couple who joined us. Permits are required and the trek is through parts of the rainforests, so we decided to go with an agency, which provided us with a guide and a porter.
The trek wasn't too strenuous and it was only 3 days. The weather was awful and I was relieved that I didn't go on the 6 day Roraima trek. It rained a lot, but thankfully on the day that we reached the top, it was clear and gave some spectacular views of the Sabana and the rainforests. Having a guide was useful, as he told us a lot about the uniqueness of the region and the species which are found only on the top of the Tepuis. Having done most of my hiking in moutains, it was a new experience - camping on a flat top mountain, hiking through the jungle and seeing plants which are only found here.
Anyway, I'm back in Santa Elena now. It's a sleepy small town, but has a certain charm to it. I'm a bit tired after all the travelling and hiking, so I'm going to chill out here for a couple of days before making my way down to Brazil. Next post should hopefully be from Manaus.
Been trying to upload pictures to this blog, but it's taking too long. Soon, hopefully.
Monday, April 02, 2007
A day on the road
Wake up at 7am. Where am I? The sound of the surf. OK, I´m still at the beach. The World Cup was just a dream, or was it? Got a long journey ahead. Kiwis wake up, and in 10 minutes everyone´s ready. On the road again, Kiwi 1 mumbles. We´re all half asleep.
Walk 10 minutes through dirty streets to the Terminal. Buses don´t run for another 2 hours. Haggle with a taxi driver to take us three to Puerto La Cruz. Drive through winding roads, crowded beaches and islands on the horizon. Touts accost us at La Cruz. Ciudad Bolivar for me, and Caracas for the Kiwis. Quick handshakes, email addresses exchanged and we all head off. Me towards Brazil, them towards Columbia. Probably never see each other again.
The bus isn´t crowded. It´s Easter week and everyone´s headed to the beach. I´m going the other way, so it´s quiet for a while. Then, the music is turned on and Salsa blares loudly, drowning out my Ipod. I doze on and off. The countryside is pretty barren. Feels dry and arid. I know it´s blazing hot outside, but the aircon inside makes it freezing. I´m prepared with my sweater and jacket though after many overnight bus journies in this country.
Stop after a few hours at a dusty roadside stop. Greasy Arepas and fresh juice is my first meal of the day. Not entirely healthy but there´s no choice. A potbellied guy with gelled hair starts talking to me. Speak slowly, I say. He realises I´m an outsider and starts talking about his life. Hates America, lived there illegally for 7 years. Paid to get married to a Gringo to get a Green Card, but got deported. Works as a tourist guide now. Venezuela is 85% national parks and 70% of the population is women, he says. I nod and see him eyeing every girl who walks by. Girls half my age have makeup and flimsy clothes and clearly enjoy the attention from him. One girl walks up and sits next to him. His daughter, I think. No, his woman. Go hiking in the Roraim area he says. It´ll be like nothing you´ve seen. I make a note of what he suggests. Get back on the bus and a bunch of people get on trying to sell drinks and food. No Gracias.
Reach Cuidad Bolivar at 3pm. It´s hot and dry. Get a ticket for Santa Elena for 8pm. 5 hours to kill. Leave my backpack with the bus agency. Walk out to a cyber cafe and it´s closed. Where else? Guy shrugs. It´s a Sunday. Everything´s closed. Anywhere in the main city? He motions towards a general direction. Very far, he says. No option but to go. 5 hours in the bus terminal will be boring as hell. Keep walking in the heat. A starbucks cafe, with comfy chairs, a cool latte and wifi would be perfect. Not in this bustling, dirty city though. The heat is getting to me now. Wait, is that an oasis? A 24 hour cybercafe. It´s open. It´s airconditioned. It´s got some drinks as well, and the connections are fast. Perfect place to kill 3 hours and catch up on what´s happening in the world cup.
Head back to the terminal and pick up my backpack and board the bus. Take out my sleeping bag as it´s a long overnight ride. 12 hours to Santa Elena, the border town. Doze off and wake up to see a Hugh Grant movie in Spanish. He sounds as stupid.
Reach Santa Elena at 8 in the morning. See 2 other backpackers in the distance and walk up. German, British or Australian? German. Thankfully, not from where I was a few months ago. Know a cheap place to stay? Ja, Ja. The bible is opened and it points us to a place. Want to share to make things cheaper? Ja, Ja. Heading to Brazil? Ja, Ja. Reach the hotel and look at the rooms. Another dingy room. A table fan, pink walls, 3 separate beds, and a private bathroom. The shower is a tap about 6 feet high. Good enough for a night? Ja, Ja. Should we get something to eat? Ja, Ja. How many months of travelling now? 3 months, they say. 11 months, I say. Want to go on a trek through the Gran Sabana tomorrow? Yes, I say. Got my own tent and sleeping bag so all I need is a stove and food. We get a guide, rent a stove, share a jeep and head off to the Gran Sabana for 3 days.
Walk 10 minutes through dirty streets to the Terminal. Buses don´t run for another 2 hours. Haggle with a taxi driver to take us three to Puerto La Cruz. Drive through winding roads, crowded beaches and islands on the horizon. Touts accost us at La Cruz. Ciudad Bolivar for me, and Caracas for the Kiwis. Quick handshakes, email addresses exchanged and we all head off. Me towards Brazil, them towards Columbia. Probably never see each other again.
The bus isn´t crowded. It´s Easter week and everyone´s headed to the beach. I´m going the other way, so it´s quiet for a while. Then, the music is turned on and Salsa blares loudly, drowning out my Ipod. I doze on and off. The countryside is pretty barren. Feels dry and arid. I know it´s blazing hot outside, but the aircon inside makes it freezing. I´m prepared with my sweater and jacket though after many overnight bus journies in this country.
Stop after a few hours at a dusty roadside stop. Greasy Arepas and fresh juice is my first meal of the day. Not entirely healthy but there´s no choice. A potbellied guy with gelled hair starts talking to me. Speak slowly, I say. He realises I´m an outsider and starts talking about his life. Hates America, lived there illegally for 7 years. Paid to get married to a Gringo to get a Green Card, but got deported. Works as a tourist guide now. Venezuela is 85% national parks and 70% of the population is women, he says. I nod and see him eyeing every girl who walks by. Girls half my age have makeup and flimsy clothes and clearly enjoy the attention from him. One girl walks up and sits next to him. His daughter, I think. No, his woman. Go hiking in the Roraim area he says. It´ll be like nothing you´ve seen. I make a note of what he suggests. Get back on the bus and a bunch of people get on trying to sell drinks and food. No Gracias.
Reach Cuidad Bolivar at 3pm. It´s hot and dry. Get a ticket for Santa Elena for 8pm. 5 hours to kill. Leave my backpack with the bus agency. Walk out to a cyber cafe and it´s closed. Where else? Guy shrugs. It´s a Sunday. Everything´s closed. Anywhere in the main city? He motions towards a general direction. Very far, he says. No option but to go. 5 hours in the bus terminal will be boring as hell. Keep walking in the heat. A starbucks cafe, with comfy chairs, a cool latte and wifi would be perfect. Not in this bustling, dirty city though. The heat is getting to me now. Wait, is that an oasis? A 24 hour cybercafe. It´s open. It´s airconditioned. It´s got some drinks as well, and the connections are fast. Perfect place to kill 3 hours and catch up on what´s happening in the world cup.
Head back to the terminal and pick up my backpack and board the bus. Take out my sleeping bag as it´s a long overnight ride. 12 hours to Santa Elena, the border town. Doze off and wake up to see a Hugh Grant movie in Spanish. He sounds as stupid.
Reach Santa Elena at 8 in the morning. See 2 other backpackers in the distance and walk up. German, British or Australian? German. Thankfully, not from where I was a few months ago. Know a cheap place to stay? Ja, Ja. The bible is opened and it points us to a place. Want to share to make things cheaper? Ja, Ja. Heading to Brazil? Ja, Ja. Reach the hotel and look at the rooms. Another dingy room. A table fan, pink walls, 3 separate beds, and a private bathroom. The shower is a tap about 6 feet high. Good enough for a night? Ja, Ja. Should we get something to eat? Ja, Ja. How many months of travelling now? 3 months, they say. 11 months, I say. Want to go on a trek through the Gran Sabana tomorrow? Yes, I say. Got my own tent and sleeping bag so all I need is a stove and food. We get a guide, rent a stove, share a jeep and head off to the Gran Sabana for 3 days.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Santa Fe
Reaching Venezuela wasn´t too hard. Took a ferry from Tobago to Trinidad, stayed overnight at Port of Spain, and then headed to the docks in the morning to catch the ferry back to Venezuela. It left a bit late, so had to hang around the docks for a long time.
It was far more crowded this time and I met 2 backpackers from New Zealand who were in the Caribbean for the World Cup. They also found it a bit too expensive to stay for the whole thing, so were heading off to Colombia via Venezuela. One of them was on his first overseas trip, while the other had travelled all over the place, so it was funny to see the two of them. The novice studied his Lonely Planet like his bible, while the other guy just asked a few other people about how to get to Columbia, and what was interesting along the way. Since it´s cheaper to travel in a group, the three of us decided to head out from Guiria together, after a long customs check. Hopped on a bus to Cumana and stayed there for the night.
Cumana is the oldest existing town in South America, and also the hometown of a close friend. But it´s hot, and had nothing too interesting. Most of it was destroyed in a couple of earthquakes, so it seemed quite drab architecturally. I emailed my friend, and he couldn´t think of too many things to do, apart from heading to the beaches. So that´s what we did.
Ended up in Santa Fe, which is a sleepy fishing village about an hour outside Cumana. Unlike Tobago, the beaches weren´t as pristine and the accomodation wasn´t as luxurious, but it was cheap and right on the beach. There were also hardly any tourists around, so it was a nice place to spend 3 days doing pretty much nothing. Have been carrying only one book with me (apart from the Spanish phrasebook), so I managed to finally get around to reading it in peace. The only internet cafe in the village was very, very slow - a lot like the pace of life here - so all I did was sit in a cheap cafe, drinking some lovely fruit juices, eat fresh fish, and read.
Anyway, after almost 3 weeks of beaches (and some cricket), I´m a bit beached out, so will head off towards the south in the direction of Brazil. The two Kiwis are off towards Columbia, so we´ll split ways tomorrow.
It was far more crowded this time and I met 2 backpackers from New Zealand who were in the Caribbean for the World Cup. They also found it a bit too expensive to stay for the whole thing, so were heading off to Colombia via Venezuela. One of them was on his first overseas trip, while the other had travelled all over the place, so it was funny to see the two of them. The novice studied his Lonely Planet like his bible, while the other guy just asked a few other people about how to get to Columbia, and what was interesting along the way. Since it´s cheaper to travel in a group, the three of us decided to head out from Guiria together, after a long customs check. Hopped on a bus to Cumana and stayed there for the night.
Cumana is the oldest existing town in South America, and also the hometown of a close friend. But it´s hot, and had nothing too interesting. Most of it was destroyed in a couple of earthquakes, so it seemed quite drab architecturally. I emailed my friend, and he couldn´t think of too many things to do, apart from heading to the beaches. So that´s what we did.
Ended up in Santa Fe, which is a sleepy fishing village about an hour outside Cumana. Unlike Tobago, the beaches weren´t as pristine and the accomodation wasn´t as luxurious, but it was cheap and right on the beach. There were also hardly any tourists around, so it was a nice place to spend 3 days doing pretty much nothing. Have been carrying only one book with me (apart from the Spanish phrasebook), so I managed to finally get around to reading it in peace. The only internet cafe in the village was very, very slow - a lot like the pace of life here - so all I did was sit in a cheap cafe, drinking some lovely fruit juices, eat fresh fish, and read.
Anyway, after almost 3 weeks of beaches (and some cricket), I´m a bit beached out, so will head off towards the south in the direction of Brazil. The two Kiwis are off towards Columbia, so we´ll split ways tomorrow.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Tobago
After spending 10 days watching the Indian team get thrashed, I desperately needed some cheering up. I had no intention of staying on in Trinidad, hoping against hope that Bermuda would pull of a miracle, so I headed off to Tobago.
Getting there was easy. There are 2-3 ferries each day, and take just over 2 hours. The docks were a short walk from my room, so I just walked. The only problem was that I missed the morning ferry, which meant that I would get there only by the evening. The wedding was in the evening, so I had no chance of making it. It was at the other end of the island, and for a while I thought about showing up in their hotel (I just knew the name), but decided I didn't want to show up and find out they'd all gone partying somewhere else.
Reached Tobago around 7pm with no hotel bookings. The previous day I'd met some other travellers who'd just returned from Tobago. They gave me the number of a cheap hotel, so I called it up. Turned out they were full, but they give me 2-3 other numbers to call. Finally got through to the 4th one, and they had a room available. Shared a taxi with some other rich tourists who were heading to the hotel (they let me tag along for free and seemed more concerned than me about not having a hotel booking).
The guest house I showed up at was amazing. It was about a 5 min walk from the beach, and my room was a self contained apartment, with a full kitchen, living room, etc. I checked again about the price, and the owner was sweet enough to lower it as she realised that it would be easier to convince me to stay on.
Woke up the next morning and headed straight to the beach. It was a Sunday, so quite busy and I noticed a bunch of kids playing cricket. This was something I had to join in, so I just ran up and joined them. I was suprised at how badly they all played though. None of them could bowl. They threw more like a pitcher, and their batting was just a baseball style swing. The wicket was an old tyre, so it resembled a strike zone in baseball. Anyway, I adapted and had a great time. There were no rules, no match going on and no competition. Anyone could bat, anyone could bowl and it was amazing to see a lot of women join in as well. People fielded in the water and each time someone hit a big one, they'd swim out to get it. I got a lot of sympathy after India's early exit, and at the risk of sounding immodest, was technically the best bowler and batsmen there. One guy shouted "Next world cup, he gonna be da captain!"
The last 2 days, I indulged in something I'd never done before - snorkelling. I'd been told about how snorkelling was easy, cheap and great fun. Even for a weak swimmer like me, it was supposed to be not too hard. And it wasn't. The first day, I joined a boat tour, where a guy gave me the mask and told me a few basic things. I swam close to the boat but it was quite mindblowing. Seeing those coral reefs, underwater plants and schools of fish, was beyond what I'd imagined it to be. Since it was a semi-guided tour, I couldn't do it for too long, so the next day, I rented a snorkel and ventured out on my own. It was great and had I decided to stay on in Tobago for longer, I would have done it each day. It started to get a bit expensive for me though.
I made a snap decision to come back to Trinidad today, and will head back to Venezuela tomorrow (hopefully I'll wake up in time for the ferry tomorrow). Living out of a backpack makes it easy to do something like this. I first went to the airport (I actually walked from the beach to the airport) to see if there were any direct flights to the eastern part of Venezuela. Realised the only way was to fly through Trinidad and then Caracas, which was too expensive. Went back to the docks to take the evening ferry back here and will hopefully be in Cumana by tomorrow evening.
Anyway, here are the links to my
Tobago pictures
Cricket articles
Getting there was easy. There are 2-3 ferries each day, and take just over 2 hours. The docks were a short walk from my room, so I just walked. The only problem was that I missed the morning ferry, which meant that I would get there only by the evening. The wedding was in the evening, so I had no chance of making it. It was at the other end of the island, and for a while I thought about showing up in their hotel (I just knew the name), but decided I didn't want to show up and find out they'd all gone partying somewhere else.
Reached Tobago around 7pm with no hotel bookings. The previous day I'd met some other travellers who'd just returned from Tobago. They gave me the number of a cheap hotel, so I called it up. Turned out they were full, but they give me 2-3 other numbers to call. Finally got through to the 4th one, and they had a room available. Shared a taxi with some other rich tourists who were heading to the hotel (they let me tag along for free and seemed more concerned than me about not having a hotel booking).
The guest house I showed up at was amazing. It was about a 5 min walk from the beach, and my room was a self contained apartment, with a full kitchen, living room, etc. I checked again about the price, and the owner was sweet enough to lower it as she realised that it would be easier to convince me to stay on.
Woke up the next morning and headed straight to the beach. It was a Sunday, so quite busy and I noticed a bunch of kids playing cricket. This was something I had to join in, so I just ran up and joined them. I was suprised at how badly they all played though. None of them could bowl. They threw more like a pitcher, and their batting was just a baseball style swing. The wicket was an old tyre, so it resembled a strike zone in baseball. Anyway, I adapted and had a great time. There were no rules, no match going on and no competition. Anyone could bat, anyone could bowl and it was amazing to see a lot of women join in as well. People fielded in the water and each time someone hit a big one, they'd swim out to get it. I got a lot of sympathy after India's early exit, and at the risk of sounding immodest, was technically the best bowler and batsmen there. One guy shouted "Next world cup, he gonna be da captain!"
The last 2 days, I indulged in something I'd never done before - snorkelling. I'd been told about how snorkelling was easy, cheap and great fun. Even for a weak swimmer like me, it was supposed to be not too hard. And it wasn't. The first day, I joined a boat tour, where a guy gave me the mask and told me a few basic things. I swam close to the boat but it was quite mindblowing. Seeing those coral reefs, underwater plants and schools of fish, was beyond what I'd imagined it to be. Since it was a semi-guided tour, I couldn't do it for too long, so the next day, I rented a snorkel and ventured out on my own. It was great and had I decided to stay on in Tobago for longer, I would have done it each day. It started to get a bit expensive for me though.
I made a snap decision to come back to Trinidad today, and will head back to Venezuela tomorrow (hopefully I'll wake up in time for the ferry tomorrow). Living out of a backpack makes it easy to do something like this. I first went to the airport (I actually walked from the beach to the airport) to see if there were any direct flights to the eastern part of Venezuela. Realised the only way was to fly through Trinidad and then Caracas, which was too expensive. Went back to the docks to take the evening ferry back here and will hopefully be in Cumana by tomorrow evening.
Anyway, here are the links to my
Tobago pictures
Cricket articles
Friday, March 23, 2007
Update
India's out of the World Cup, and so am I. Looks like my career as a cricket writer has come to a quick end. All I can say is that I'm happy that I didn't buy any flight tickets, make hotel bookings or buy too many tickets for the matches. All I'm going to lose is 50$ for the Bangladesh-Ireland match.
Will head to the docks tomorrow to catch the ferry to Tobago, and lime out there for about a week or so. After that, I'll have to figure out what to do. I'd planned to stay in the Caribbean for the next month, but there's no point hanging out here for too long. It's a bit too expensive for a cheap backpacker like me.
In about 10 days, I might head back to Venezuela for a bit and then spend some more time in the Amazon rainforests, before heading for Rio. Suggestions?
Anyone interested in buying the Bangladesh-Ireland ticket?
Will head to the docks tomorrow to catch the ferry to Tobago, and lime out there for about a week or so. After that, I'll have to figure out what to do. I'd planned to stay in the Caribbean for the next month, but there's no point hanging out here for too long. It's a bit too expensive for a cheap backpacker like me.
In about 10 days, I might head back to Venezuela for a bit and then spend some more time in the Amazon rainforests, before heading for Rio. Suggestions?
Anyone interested in buying the Bangladesh-Ireland ticket?
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Liming
There's a word in Trinidad which means just hanging out, chilling and doing nothing in particular - Liming. That's exactly what I've been up to. The beaches in the north coast are perfect for that, and I've spent a large amount of time out there.
The other thing I've been up to is living out my childhood fantasy as a cricket writer. I've attended nets practice a couple of times, and by now most of the reporters know me. It's suprising how tired and cynical most of them are during the press conferences. I stand right in front, listening to every word, (I even asked a question once) and taking pictures. What is interesting though, is listening to the gossip when they head out for lunch, their relationship with different players, their impressions of the coach, etc. I'm going to write a piece on that for the website I'm writing for and post a link soon.
A funny thing happened the other day, on the way to the beach. There are shared vans which go from the downtown area so I hopped onto one. I was sitting next to an American couple who were headed there and we were generally chatting. They asked me if I was here for the World Cup. I was surprised they even knew about it, and said yes. They replied, so were they. For a while I thought they might be part of some TV company, doing some backup work. Turned out they were actually in Trinidad as fans watching cricket, and were headed to Guyana for some more matches.
I was very curious at this point, so they told me they'd travelled in India for about 6-7 months about 7 years ago, and being sports fans, started to watch cricket. They realised watching the cricket world cup as neutral fans, was a nice way to travel and have something to do, so they went all the way to South Africa 4 years ago for about a month, and are now in the Caribbean for 2-3 weeks. They plan to go Australia for the Ashes in about 4 years as well as India again for the next world cup.
We've become good friends over the last 4 days, and today I took them to nets practice and they were overawed at the chance to see both the Sri Lankan and Indian teams so close. 3 other friends of theirs are flying in from California for tomorrow's match (they're trying to convert them into cricket fans), and 2 of them are getting married in Tobago on Saturday. I'm headed to Tobago as well on Saturday, so I might show up for it if it's closeby.
The other thing I've been up to is living out my childhood fantasy as a cricket writer. I've attended nets practice a couple of times, and by now most of the reporters know me. It's suprising how tired and cynical most of them are during the press conferences. I stand right in front, listening to every word, (I even asked a question once) and taking pictures. What is interesting though, is listening to the gossip when they head out for lunch, their relationship with different players, their impressions of the coach, etc. I'm going to write a piece on that for the website I'm writing for and post a link soon.
A funny thing happened the other day, on the way to the beach. There are shared vans which go from the downtown area so I hopped onto one. I was sitting next to an American couple who were headed there and we were generally chatting. They asked me if I was here for the World Cup. I was surprised they even knew about it, and said yes. They replied, so were they. For a while I thought they might be part of some TV company, doing some backup work. Turned out they were actually in Trinidad as fans watching cricket, and were headed to Guyana for some more matches.
I was very curious at this point, so they told me they'd travelled in India for about 6-7 months about 7 years ago, and being sports fans, started to watch cricket. They realised watching the cricket world cup as neutral fans, was a nice way to travel and have something to do, so they went all the way to South Africa 4 years ago for about a month, and are now in the Caribbean for 2-3 weeks. They plan to go Australia for the Ashes in about 4 years as well as India again for the next world cup.
We've become good friends over the last 4 days, and today I took them to nets practice and they were overawed at the chance to see both the Sri Lankan and Indian teams so close. 3 other friends of theirs are flying in from California for tomorrow's match (they're trying to convert them into cricket fans), and 2 of them are getting married in Tobago on Saturday. I'm headed to Tobago as well on Saturday, so I might show up for it if it's closeby.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
From Sabina Park to the Queen's Park Oval
5 years ago we met had and a nice chat and it brought a smile to both our faces.
Today, I met him again, and even though he was in a rush we both smiled again.
I also met these guys today. They didn't remember me, but were happy to oblige with pics. Somehow, coming here was worth it, in spite of the horrible performance by India yesterday.
More can be found here.
Today, I met him again, and even though he was in a rush we both smiled again.
I also met these guys today. They didn't remember me, but were happy to oblige with pics. Somehow, coming here was worth it, in spite of the horrible performance by India yesterday.
More can be found here.
Friday, March 16, 2007
Cricket update
India's campaign starts tomorrow, and I've managed to get tickets for the India-Bangladesh match in the Trini-Posse party stand. That's the fun stand with a live band, drinks and crazy people. Also managed to get tickets for India-Bermuda and
INDIA-PAKISTAN on Apr 15th at Barbados.
Yes!!!!!!
Turns out that barring major upsets the schedule for the next round (super 8s) is predetermined based on the seedings a year ago. So India-Pakistan is conveniently scheduled for a Sunday, and I will definitely be there. Have to see if there are any boats from here or Tobago till Barbados, otherwise will have to take a flight.
I'm also going to keep a World Cup diary for this website. Anyone can log in and write articles on sports, and they get edited by a team. I'd started a cricket blog for a few months, and the people on this site noticed it and told me to start writing for them. I've written a few already. 5 years ago, I went to Jamaica to watch India-West Indies and wrote an article here, and decided that since I'm here for the whole world cup, I'll see what it's like to be a cricket writer.
Still have to get tickets for India-Sri Lanka as it was sold out, but there were lots of people selling tickets outside the stadium illegally. They weren't too expensive, so hopefully I should be able to watch all of India's matches in the first round.
If you're watching the cricket match tomorrow, I'll be in the party stand, wearing an official Indian team shirt with a blue floppy hat.
Finally, I've also uploaded my pictures of the Venezuela trip. Click here for the pictures of Merida, Caracas and Venezuela-Trinidad.
INDIA-PAKISTAN on Apr 15th at Barbados.
Yes!!!!!!
Turns out that barring major upsets the schedule for the next round (super 8s) is predetermined based on the seedings a year ago. So India-Pakistan is conveniently scheduled for a Sunday, and I will definitely be there. Have to see if there are any boats from here or Tobago till Barbados, otherwise will have to take a flight.
I'm also going to keep a World Cup diary for this website. Anyone can log in and write articles on sports, and they get edited by a team. I'd started a cricket blog for a few months, and the people on this site noticed it and told me to start writing for them. I've written a few already. 5 years ago, I went to Jamaica to watch India-West Indies and wrote an article here, and decided that since I'm here for the whole world cup, I'll see what it's like to be a cricket writer.
Still have to get tickets for India-Sri Lanka as it was sold out, but there were lots of people selling tickets outside the stadium illegally. They weren't too expensive, so hopefully I should be able to watch all of India's matches in the first round.
If you're watching the cricket match tomorrow, I'll be in the party stand, wearing an official Indian team shirt with a blue floppy hat.
Finally, I've also uploaded my pictures of the Venezuela trip. Click here for the pictures of Merida, Caracas and Venezuela-Trinidad.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Getting to Trinidad
Getting here wasn't easy. In fact, there was a lot of uncertainty about the whole trip from Caracas to Port of Spain, so when I finally woke up this morning it felt like a bit of an accomplishment.
There were two main problems with coming here from Caracas. One, I had no bookings for any hotels or guest houses. Whatever I found on the internet was too expensive or too vague. Two, the ferry from Venezuela had no internet presence, and nobody in Venezuela that I talked to knew about it. In a Lonely Planet guide I'd read last month, it said the ferry runs once a week on Wednesdays. I wasn't too sure about the price, and I didn't have too much Venezuelan currency left either.
I spent the last day in Caracas (Monday) looking for some travel guides. Since all my travelling for the last 10 months has been a bit unpredictable, I've resisted from buying any travel guides which I'd have to lug around. Caracas isn't a very tourist friendly place so in spite of going to all the main bookstores I couldn't any information or book about Guiria (where the ferry runs from) or Trinidad. Finally decided that the best thing to do was to leave for Guiria that night so that I could hope to get to Guiria by Tuesday afternoon, find out about the ferry and in case it didn't run, head back to Caracas and take a flight.
There was no direct bus to Guiria, so I took an overnight bus to Cumana and reached at about 6 in the morning. The bus terminal was pretty small and decrepit, and at that time in the morning the main ticket office was shut. Went into a grotty waiting room and hung around for an hour. Finally went in to the ticket office after it opened, and realised that the first bus to Guiria was at 2 in the afternoon. That meant reaching Guiria at 6 in the evening, which was too late. Found out after a lot of gesturing and consulting my bible (the Spanish for travellers book) that one could share taxis till Curapao and then another shared taxi to Guiria.
Ended up in a very old run down Ford, which was probably from the 70s considering the design. Dozed through most of the ride and reached Curapao at around 9 and then found another shared taxi for Guiria. These taxis don't leave till they're full, so had to wait till we could find 4 more people heading there. The drive was beautiful though. All along the coast, with the brilliant blue waters sparking and thick jungle on the the other side of the road. Reached Guiria around noon.
As small towns go, Guiria is possibly the most decrepit, rundown, dirty and shady place I've ever encountered. It's the last town one can drive to on the Northeast coast of Venezuela, and exists only because of the docks and the Coast Guard presence. I'd heard about the beaches in the area and had pictured a pretty, small town close to nice beaches where I'd spend the day loitering around. The beach was pathetic and the whole town looked like it was in serious decay. There were two posadas (motels) in town. I took the one where the room had airconditioning as it was blisteringly hot, esp after a week in the Andes.
Asked around about the ferry and found the office after a bit of walking around. The ferry was running as scheduled on each Wednesday, but I had to pay about 70$ in cash. Since I didn't have much currency left, I went to the only ATM in town, but realised that international cards don't work. 3 days earlier I'd overheard a conversation about this, and 2 Germans had mentioned the way to withdraw cash was to go to a big bank in the morning before noon, with your passport and other details. Since it was 3 the bank was shut, so I had to wait till the next morning. I had barely enough money to eat one meal, and the few euros and pounds that I was carrying had no value. Only US dollars I was told. Found a dirty, roadside Arepa place and munched on a couple of Arepas before heading back to my room and sleeping early as there was nothing else to do.
Woke up early, and went straight to the bank and managed to withdraw some cash with the help of a teller. Then went to the Ferry agency, but they refused to let me buy a one-way ticket. Since I wasn't sure of when I plan to leave the Caribbean, they wanted proof of return. It was time to head to the only internet cafe in town and make another booking on AA.
The internet cafe had really old computers, but like idiots they'd installed an illegal copy of Windows Vista. That meant the computer hung about 3 times, before I managed to make a booking. Turned out the printer was connected to the main computer and they weren't networked. The only way to print it out would be to save it as a text file and then transfer it. Thankfully, I had my ipod with me and managed to transfer it onto that, plug it into the main computer and print out a very shady looking ticket itinerary. It was almost 11, so headed straight to the Ferry agency and then managed to get the ticket. Was told to report to the docks at 2, and the ferry would leave at around 4. Bumped into a French couple and we agreed to share a taxi as the docks area looked really shady.
Reached the docks, and after a long and thorough check of everyone's bags and a long wait, managed to leave the docks around 430. I was really tired by now and wondered if I would have been better of taking a flight from Caracas (it would have cost about the same). But within 20 minutes of leaving, it was worth it. The water was incredibly clear, with great views of the Venezuelan peninsula and loud calypso music on the deck. Suddenly, the world cup looked much closer.
While sitting on the deck, I ended up talking to a Venezuelan who now lives in Trinidad. I asked him about Port of Spain, and he was shocked that I had no bookings at all. Since we were going to reach around 8pm, with a long customs check, he said I had no chance of reaching Port of Spain before 930pm, and doubted if there would be any buses to take from the docks. The French couple decided to help me out and gave me their Lonely Planet guide and helped me write down the names and addresses of some cheap hotels. Then Mr Venezuela, gave me some Trinidadian cash (there was no money changer at the docks), his phone number and as soon was we were within range of his cellphone coverage, let me make phone calls to the hotels on the Lonely Planet guide.
After calling 3 places, I managed to find a very affordable place close to the stadium which had one single room left. Mr Venezuela was even nicer, and gave me a ride all the way to the Guest house, waited till I'd found the room and headed off. He told me to call him sometime, and explain cricke to him. Considering all that he did for a stranger, I'd be happy to oblige him for more.
Did I ever mention, I love all Venezuelan people?
There were two main problems with coming here from Caracas. One, I had no bookings for any hotels or guest houses. Whatever I found on the internet was too expensive or too vague. Two, the ferry from Venezuela had no internet presence, and nobody in Venezuela that I talked to knew about it. In a Lonely Planet guide I'd read last month, it said the ferry runs once a week on Wednesdays. I wasn't too sure about the price, and I didn't have too much Venezuelan currency left either.
I spent the last day in Caracas (Monday) looking for some travel guides. Since all my travelling for the last 10 months has been a bit unpredictable, I've resisted from buying any travel guides which I'd have to lug around. Caracas isn't a very tourist friendly place so in spite of going to all the main bookstores I couldn't any information or book about Guiria (where the ferry runs from) or Trinidad. Finally decided that the best thing to do was to leave for Guiria that night so that I could hope to get to Guiria by Tuesday afternoon, find out about the ferry and in case it didn't run, head back to Caracas and take a flight.
There was no direct bus to Guiria, so I took an overnight bus to Cumana and reached at about 6 in the morning. The bus terminal was pretty small and decrepit, and at that time in the morning the main ticket office was shut. Went into a grotty waiting room and hung around for an hour. Finally went in to the ticket office after it opened, and realised that the first bus to Guiria was at 2 in the afternoon. That meant reaching Guiria at 6 in the evening, which was too late. Found out after a lot of gesturing and consulting my bible (the Spanish for travellers book) that one could share taxis till Curapao and then another shared taxi to Guiria.
Ended up in a very old run down Ford, which was probably from the 70s considering the design. Dozed through most of the ride and reached Curapao at around 9 and then found another shared taxi for Guiria. These taxis don't leave till they're full, so had to wait till we could find 4 more people heading there. The drive was beautiful though. All along the coast, with the brilliant blue waters sparking and thick jungle on the the other side of the road. Reached Guiria around noon.
As small towns go, Guiria is possibly the most decrepit, rundown, dirty and shady place I've ever encountered. It's the last town one can drive to on the Northeast coast of Venezuela, and exists only because of the docks and the Coast Guard presence. I'd heard about the beaches in the area and had pictured a pretty, small town close to nice beaches where I'd spend the day loitering around. The beach was pathetic and the whole town looked like it was in serious decay. There were two posadas (motels) in town. I took the one where the room had airconditioning as it was blisteringly hot, esp after a week in the Andes.
Asked around about the ferry and found the office after a bit of walking around. The ferry was running as scheduled on each Wednesday, but I had to pay about 70$ in cash. Since I didn't have much currency left, I went to the only ATM in town, but realised that international cards don't work. 3 days earlier I'd overheard a conversation about this, and 2 Germans had mentioned the way to withdraw cash was to go to a big bank in the morning before noon, with your passport and other details. Since it was 3 the bank was shut, so I had to wait till the next morning. I had barely enough money to eat one meal, and the few euros and pounds that I was carrying had no value. Only US dollars I was told. Found a dirty, roadside Arepa place and munched on a couple of Arepas before heading back to my room and sleeping early as there was nothing else to do.
Woke up early, and went straight to the bank and managed to withdraw some cash with the help of a teller. Then went to the Ferry agency, but they refused to let me buy a one-way ticket. Since I wasn't sure of when I plan to leave the Caribbean, they wanted proof of return. It was time to head to the only internet cafe in town and make another booking on AA.
The internet cafe had really old computers, but like idiots they'd installed an illegal copy of Windows Vista. That meant the computer hung about 3 times, before I managed to make a booking. Turned out the printer was connected to the main computer and they weren't networked. The only way to print it out would be to save it as a text file and then transfer it. Thankfully, I had my ipod with me and managed to transfer it onto that, plug it into the main computer and print out a very shady looking ticket itinerary. It was almost 11, so headed straight to the Ferry agency and then managed to get the ticket. Was told to report to the docks at 2, and the ferry would leave at around 4. Bumped into a French couple and we agreed to share a taxi as the docks area looked really shady.
Reached the docks, and after a long and thorough check of everyone's bags and a long wait, managed to leave the docks around 430. I was really tired by now and wondered if I would have been better of taking a flight from Caracas (it would have cost about the same). But within 20 minutes of leaving, it was worth it. The water was incredibly clear, with great views of the Venezuelan peninsula and loud calypso music on the deck. Suddenly, the world cup looked much closer.
While sitting on the deck, I ended up talking to a Venezuelan who now lives in Trinidad. I asked him about Port of Spain, and he was shocked that I had no bookings at all. Since we were going to reach around 8pm, with a long customs check, he said I had no chance of reaching Port of Spain before 930pm, and doubted if there would be any buses to take from the docks. The French couple decided to help me out and gave me their Lonely Planet guide and helped me write down the names and addresses of some cheap hotels. Then Mr Venezuela, gave me some Trinidadian cash (there was no money changer at the docks), his phone number and as soon was we were within range of his cellphone coverage, let me make phone calls to the hotels on the Lonely Planet guide.
After calling 3 places, I managed to find a very affordable place close to the stadium which had one single room left. Mr Venezuela was even nicer, and gave me a ride all the way to the Guest house, waited till I'd found the room and headed off. He told me to call him sometime, and explain cricke to him. Considering all that he did for a stranger, I'd be happy to oblige him for more.
Did I ever mention, I love all Venezuelan people?
Reached Trinidad
I've made it here finally! It was an eventful trip and things worked out well in the end. Have found a nice and reasonable Bed and Breakfast, within walking distance to the cricket stadium. Am heading out now to see if I can buy some tickets for the matches and organise a few other things - cash, cellphone card, internet connection.
More updates later tonight.
More updates later tonight.
Monday, March 12, 2007
Merida
I spent the last week in Merida, staying with Dr B´s brother, A. I´d heard a lot about him from 2-3 Venezuelan friends of mine and was keen to see him and his lifestyle. It was quite an amazing experience.
A is about 36, lives alone in a small house in a remote village outside the city of Merida. His house has spectacular views of the Andes, a small stream running through his front yard, no hot water, no heating and no form of transport. The only way to get to his village is to take a bus or hitch-hike and then a short uphill walk. He´s recently started a master´s degree in mathematics at the University of the Andes, and lives on very little money as I found out. He also doesn´t speak any English either (barely a few words).
I reached Merida early in the morning and called him from the bus terminal. Realised immediately that it was impossible to communicate with him. Thankfully, I´ve been carrying a Spanish for travellers book, and have been reading through it for about a week. Took a bus to the centre of the town, memorised some lines and called him again. Somehow we managed to agree on Plaza Bolivar at 11.
He showed up on time and immediately took me on a walk through the city pointing out all kinds of places. At each point I had to ask him to speak slowly, consult my book, and then talk back. He´s lived around Merida most of his life and knows the city inside out, and also about half the town. Every 5 minutes, someone would stop to talk, wave or shout at him. I was still a bit groggy after a long bus ride, so we stopped at a great fish restaurant for lunch. Merida was even cheaper than Caracas and it´s nice to be able to order food without asking about the price. After lunch, we hitched a ride in a jeep, and went through a long walk through a few villages, stopping at a couple of houses along the way. Being introduced as a friend from India in such a remote place, made me feel like a celebrity. Reached his house in the evening, and I immediately collapsed on a hammock on his porch and dozed off, listening to the sound of the stream and staring in between at the amazing mountain views.
The next 3-4 days were spent hiking. A had spent a lot of time in his 20s as a trekking guide, and knows every trail and mountain. The first day, a friend of his joined us, and the 3 of us hitched rides on various trucks and jeeps to end up at some hot springs. It took a while to get there and apart from a few locals, it was just us. Spent at least 4-5 hours soaking in the hot springs, sipping some fresh juice we´d carried, with a great view of the Andes. The sun was very harsh and strong, so I got pretty badly sunburnt, as I´d laughed at the sunblock they were using. Left the springs around 4 in the evening and explored some of the small villages in the area. Again, A knew a lot of people and we just simply walked into different houses without knocking on doors. At each place the 3 of us went, we were offered food and tea and it was quite astonishing to see how backward the living conditions were in these places.
Spent the next 2 days on a camping trip and I realised how 3 months in Paris had made me very unfit. It was even worse to be accompanied by a former trekking guide who knows everything so well. Somehow managed to chug up to the base of Pico Sucre, and camped there for the night. It got cold at night, and I was quite stiff after all the walking and it wasn´t the most comfortable night. But seeing the night sky and the sunrise in the morning made the whole trek worth it.
Decided against climbing the peak as it was too windy and I didn´t want to push myself too much. Took a different route on the way back and stopped at another hot spring along the way to ease the stiffness. Got back to his place around 5 and then headed straight for a farewell party for a friend of his who was leaving for Caracas. It was supposed to be just a few drinks and a quicky goodbye, but there was no way anybody was going to let A leave early. He´s remarkably popular and though he´s about 10 years older than most of his student friends, he behaves as if he´s younger than them. Even though nobody could speak English clearly, it was fun to communicate through my Spanish book. I think I learned more Spanish in the last 6 days than I ever tried in the last few years.
The last day was reserved for the most spectacular ride that I´ve ever been on. The Teleferica, which is the longest and highest cable car in the world. It was breathtaking and it starts from about 3000m in Merida and goes up to about 4500m in about an hour, with a couple of stops. It was the closest I´ve felt to flying, especially as I sat like a kid in the front row with my nose pressed against the windows. It´s a remarkable feat of engineering and the views one gets of the Andes and the neighbouring valleys and towns are incredible. (I think I used too many superlatives in the last paragraph)
I took the night bus back to Caracas, and had a slightly awkward experience. Was woken up in the middle of the night and asked for my ID. Showed my passport and was then told to come out of the bus. Even though I told them in broken Spanish that I was just a tourist, they insisted on searching me and my backpack thoroughly and asking about where I was going and what I did. The whole bus was held up for about 30 minutes, and it was a bit embarrassing to be interrogated in front of the entire bus. I don´t know why they were doing it to me, but I acted as if I didn´t care. They let me off soon, but the bus driver winked at me and said ¨"Sorry, that´s what Chavez is doing these days."
I took loads of pictures and a short video at the back of a truck. Will try uploading them soon once I can figure out how to connect my laptop. Am off to Guiria tonight, and then to Trinidad by a ferry on Wednesday, so hopefully my next post will be from Trinidad.
A is about 36, lives alone in a small house in a remote village outside the city of Merida. His house has spectacular views of the Andes, a small stream running through his front yard, no hot water, no heating and no form of transport. The only way to get to his village is to take a bus or hitch-hike and then a short uphill walk. He´s recently started a master´s degree in mathematics at the University of the Andes, and lives on very little money as I found out. He also doesn´t speak any English either (barely a few words).
I reached Merida early in the morning and called him from the bus terminal. Realised immediately that it was impossible to communicate with him. Thankfully, I´ve been carrying a Spanish for travellers book, and have been reading through it for about a week. Took a bus to the centre of the town, memorised some lines and called him again. Somehow we managed to agree on Plaza Bolivar at 11.
He showed up on time and immediately took me on a walk through the city pointing out all kinds of places. At each point I had to ask him to speak slowly, consult my book, and then talk back. He´s lived around Merida most of his life and knows the city inside out, and also about half the town. Every 5 minutes, someone would stop to talk, wave or shout at him. I was still a bit groggy after a long bus ride, so we stopped at a great fish restaurant for lunch. Merida was even cheaper than Caracas and it´s nice to be able to order food without asking about the price. After lunch, we hitched a ride in a jeep, and went through a long walk through a few villages, stopping at a couple of houses along the way. Being introduced as a friend from India in such a remote place, made me feel like a celebrity. Reached his house in the evening, and I immediately collapsed on a hammock on his porch and dozed off, listening to the sound of the stream and staring in between at the amazing mountain views.
The next 3-4 days were spent hiking. A had spent a lot of time in his 20s as a trekking guide, and knows every trail and mountain. The first day, a friend of his joined us, and the 3 of us hitched rides on various trucks and jeeps to end up at some hot springs. It took a while to get there and apart from a few locals, it was just us. Spent at least 4-5 hours soaking in the hot springs, sipping some fresh juice we´d carried, with a great view of the Andes. The sun was very harsh and strong, so I got pretty badly sunburnt, as I´d laughed at the sunblock they were using. Left the springs around 4 in the evening and explored some of the small villages in the area. Again, A knew a lot of people and we just simply walked into different houses without knocking on doors. At each place the 3 of us went, we were offered food and tea and it was quite astonishing to see how backward the living conditions were in these places.
Spent the next 2 days on a camping trip and I realised how 3 months in Paris had made me very unfit. It was even worse to be accompanied by a former trekking guide who knows everything so well. Somehow managed to chug up to the base of Pico Sucre, and camped there for the night. It got cold at night, and I was quite stiff after all the walking and it wasn´t the most comfortable night. But seeing the night sky and the sunrise in the morning made the whole trek worth it.
Decided against climbing the peak as it was too windy and I didn´t want to push myself too much. Took a different route on the way back and stopped at another hot spring along the way to ease the stiffness. Got back to his place around 5 and then headed straight for a farewell party for a friend of his who was leaving for Caracas. It was supposed to be just a few drinks and a quicky goodbye, but there was no way anybody was going to let A leave early. He´s remarkably popular and though he´s about 10 years older than most of his student friends, he behaves as if he´s younger than them. Even though nobody could speak English clearly, it was fun to communicate through my Spanish book. I think I learned more Spanish in the last 6 days than I ever tried in the last few years.
The last day was reserved for the most spectacular ride that I´ve ever been on. The Teleferica, which is the longest and highest cable car in the world. It was breathtaking and it starts from about 3000m in Merida and goes up to about 4500m in about an hour, with a couple of stops. It was the closest I´ve felt to flying, especially as I sat like a kid in the front row with my nose pressed against the windows. It´s a remarkable feat of engineering and the views one gets of the Andes and the neighbouring valleys and towns are incredible. (I think I used too many superlatives in the last paragraph)
I took the night bus back to Caracas, and had a slightly awkward experience. Was woken up in the middle of the night and asked for my ID. Showed my passport and was then told to come out of the bus. Even though I told them in broken Spanish that I was just a tourist, they insisted on searching me and my backpack thoroughly and asking about where I was going and what I did. The whole bus was held up for about 30 minutes, and it was a bit embarrassing to be interrogated in front of the entire bus. I don´t know why they were doing it to me, but I acted as if I didn´t care. They let me off soon, but the bus driver winked at me and said ¨"Sorry, that´s what Chavez is doing these days."
I took loads of pictures and a short video at the back of a truck. Will try uploading them soon once I can figure out how to connect my laptop. Am off to Guiria tonight, and then to Trinidad by a ferry on Wednesday, so hopefully my next post will be from Trinidad.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Caracas Diary
The flight to Caracas was long and I almost missed the connecting flight at Frankfurt. I´d left for Heathrow at around 4am, so I slept comfortably almost all the way to Caracas. The airport is right on the coast, so as one lands, one can see the mountains in the background and the city is in a valley behind the mountains. It looks quite dramatic.
The moment I cleared immigration and customs, a bunch of fake officials came up to me offering to change money. I´d been warned about this so decided to change only enough to make a couple of phone calls and for emergency. The difference in the official and unofficial rate is almost double due to inflation and strict currency controls. Managed to get through to W, who I was going to stay with, who gave the taxi driver instructions and negotiated a fare.
The bridge connecting the airport to the city broke a year ago so the driver took a really long round-about way to get to Caracas. It meant driving through a lot of the favelas (slums) and as the first introduction to Venezuela, it was quite harsh, even for someone from Delhi. The ride was beautiful though, on a long winding road up to the top of the mountains and then down. The taxi driver kept talking non-stop about a lot of things, with loud music blaring and stopping to whistle and pass comments at all the women along the way.
Reached W´s house around 6pm, and walked straight into a family get-together. Since it was a weekend, his whole clan tends to meet on both days. It was cramped and noisy, but I enjoyed it a lot. Dinner dragged on for a long time and the next day, there was another gathering at someone´s house in the countryside. That´s the weekend retreat for the whole clan and even more people showed up. The weather was hot and to combat the heat, everyone kept sipping beer. Was happily drunk and just enjoyed being treated like a celebrity guest by the whole clan.
Got back around 7pm, and then Dr B showed up. He´d visited India about 6 years ago and stayed with some friends of mine and loved it, so he´s determined to make my visit similar. Took me out to a place which is known for its Arepas and then drove me around Caracas in his car. Gas is cheap in Venezuela (about 10cents a litre) so nobody cares about driving long distances. He jumped 3 red lights and after the second asked "Aren´t you feeling at home?".
Spent the last 2 days exploring Caracas by metro and by foot. It´s a weird city. The location is spectacular, as it´s in a valley with high mountains all around and the weather is great all year. The women are either amazingly hot or very overweight (I was told it´s because of the beer), and the traffic is as bad as Delhi. Architecturally, it´s very ugly. Since it´s the capital and the commercial centre, there are lots of highrise buildings, but most of them look quite run down. There are shops all over and even the old Spanish quarter has lost the charm it must have had as it´s surrounded by shops. The food is great, especially the fresh fruit juices and after walking a lot, it´s nice to chill out on the Grande Sabana, sip a cool drink and watch people play chess.
I haven´t been able to upload pictures yet, but hopefully in a week or so. I´m off to Merida today for 5-6 days. It´s a small town in the Andes, and will be staying in a village just outside Merida, with Dr B´s brother, who is a trekking guide and lives in a small hut. He´s starting a master´s degree in maths at the University of the Andes and also runs marathons. Apparently he doesn´t speak any English, so let´s see how we communicate about maths, mountains and marathons.
Heading to the University right now, to meet with a couple of other people I know through two of my old housemates, and then in the evening will take a cable car to the highest point in Caracas, which I´m told has a spectacular view of the city, the mountains and coast.
The moment I cleared immigration and customs, a bunch of fake officials came up to me offering to change money. I´d been warned about this so decided to change only enough to make a couple of phone calls and for emergency. The difference in the official and unofficial rate is almost double due to inflation and strict currency controls. Managed to get through to W, who I was going to stay with, who gave the taxi driver instructions and negotiated a fare.
The bridge connecting the airport to the city broke a year ago so the driver took a really long round-about way to get to Caracas. It meant driving through a lot of the favelas (slums) and as the first introduction to Venezuela, it was quite harsh, even for someone from Delhi. The ride was beautiful though, on a long winding road up to the top of the mountains and then down. The taxi driver kept talking non-stop about a lot of things, with loud music blaring and stopping to whistle and pass comments at all the women along the way.
Reached W´s house around 6pm, and walked straight into a family get-together. Since it was a weekend, his whole clan tends to meet on both days. It was cramped and noisy, but I enjoyed it a lot. Dinner dragged on for a long time and the next day, there was another gathering at someone´s house in the countryside. That´s the weekend retreat for the whole clan and even more people showed up. The weather was hot and to combat the heat, everyone kept sipping beer. Was happily drunk and just enjoyed being treated like a celebrity guest by the whole clan.
Got back around 7pm, and then Dr B showed up. He´d visited India about 6 years ago and stayed with some friends of mine and loved it, so he´s determined to make my visit similar. Took me out to a place which is known for its Arepas and then drove me around Caracas in his car. Gas is cheap in Venezuela (about 10cents a litre) so nobody cares about driving long distances. He jumped 3 red lights and after the second asked "Aren´t you feeling at home?".
Spent the last 2 days exploring Caracas by metro and by foot. It´s a weird city. The location is spectacular, as it´s in a valley with high mountains all around and the weather is great all year. The women are either amazingly hot or very overweight (I was told it´s because of the beer), and the traffic is as bad as Delhi. Architecturally, it´s very ugly. Since it´s the capital and the commercial centre, there are lots of highrise buildings, but most of them look quite run down. There are shops all over and even the old Spanish quarter has lost the charm it must have had as it´s surrounded by shops. The food is great, especially the fresh fruit juices and after walking a lot, it´s nice to chill out on the Grande Sabana, sip a cool drink and watch people play chess.
I haven´t been able to upload pictures yet, but hopefully in a week or so. I´m off to Merida today for 5-6 days. It´s a small town in the Andes, and will be staying in a village just outside Merida, with Dr B´s brother, who is a trekking guide and lives in a small hut. He´s starting a master´s degree in maths at the University of the Andes and also runs marathons. Apparently he doesn´t speak any English, so let´s see how we communicate about maths, mountains and marathons.
Heading to the University right now, to meet with a couple of other people I know through two of my old housemates, and then in the evening will take a cable car to the highest point in Caracas, which I´m told has a spectacular view of the city, the mountains and coast.
Monday, March 05, 2007
Reached Caracas
Should have posted a bit earlier, but my life´s been hijacked by a few friends here. Since I reached this is the first time I´ve had time to post, but it´s not a long one. Reached Caracas safely after an interesting drive from the airport to the city. The weather´s great as are the beer and people. Will post a longer one later tonight.
Friday, March 02, 2007
Getting ready to leave
London's passed by in a bit of a daze. In between meeting the maths crowd, some corporate sharks and some friends, it became quite hectic. It helps that I know the city very well after so many trips so I've felt comfortable getting around. I managed to get my CARICOM visa stamped, get vague ideas of possible employment opportunities after Rio, mail off tax forms and catch up with some friends.
I'm leaving in a few hours for Heathrow and have a one-way ticket to Caracas. My worldly possessions are now even less than they were a few months ago. I can survive for about a week with my clothes, have two books to sustain me and a few gadgets. 2 years ago, I'd gone to Peru for 2 weeks and was carrying exactly the right amount of stuff after many years of always carrying some extra and useless items while travelling. I went hiking for 4 days, and managed to get by easily with what I was carrying. Right now, I've got the same amount of stuff with me.
In the last 10 months, this is the 4th time, I've bought a one-way ticket to head off to a different continent. I don't know if I'm doing something incredibly stupid with no clear idea of what to do in terms of employment, just about enough money to last me till July (assuming there're no screw-ups) but hopefully in about 24 hours or so, I'll be in Caracas.
More once I reach Venezuela.
I'm leaving in a few hours for Heathrow and have a one-way ticket to Caracas. My worldly possessions are now even less than they were a few months ago. I can survive for about a week with my clothes, have two books to sustain me and a few gadgets. 2 years ago, I'd gone to Peru for 2 weeks and was carrying exactly the right amount of stuff after many years of always carrying some extra and useless items while travelling. I went hiking for 4 days, and managed to get by easily with what I was carrying. Right now, I've got the same amount of stuff with me.
In the last 10 months, this is the 4th time, I've bought a one-way ticket to head off to a different continent. I don't know if I'm doing something incredibly stupid with no clear idea of what to do in terms of employment, just about enough money to last me till July (assuming there're no screw-ups) but hopefully in about 24 hours or so, I'll be in Caracas.
More once I reach Venezuela.
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