Venezuela Part 1: Merida and Maracaibo

Hmm this computer decided to shut itself down. Fucker. And I am quite dehydrated. This will either make for a fun thrilled roller coaster of unpredictability (The French Open semi finals. Come on Federer) or it will be a damp squib of disappointment (Say hello England cricket team. I mean Holland really). I am once again marooned in a bus station due to awful timing. I arrived for an afternoon bus. The first one goes at half past eight tonight so I have some writing time. Its rare for me to write them while I am still in the place, but I can't imagine anything new and exciting happening in two hours. Two bits of news. I have just booked the internal flight from Manaus to Macapa, so I had better get to watch this damn space shuttle launch and secondly I have been accepted for interview to the CELTA. They have stuck it on Corpus Christi though so I have asked if they can move it around for me.

Initial thoughts on Venezuela. I like the country apart from two things. Everything shuts too early here. Damn Chavez has working hours fixed at French levels of laziness. Its not Anglo friendly business hours. Secondly the currency is ridiculous. Chavez in his wisdom decided to fix the currency exchange rate at 2,100 Bolivars for one dollar. He has also introduced a new currency called the Bolivar Fuerte which is the same as the old one divided by 1,000. The exchange rate for this beast is 2.1 for one dollar. Now some private citizens will exchange for as much as 7:1. Thats a massive difference and makes Venezuela over three times as expensive for stupid tourists. Unfortunately you need a huge stockpile of dollars to travel through here, so you either have to do a double exchange, bring them from home or you can do what I did and draw them in Ecuador (where its the currency) for Venezuela. They have both currencies in circulation so you have 50's that are half a Bolivar Fuerte and 50's that are 1/20th of an old Bolivar. Odd combinations of quarters and 500's. The notes are the same. They have just emboldened the main numbers. Its a nightmare for change. Four days in and I am still not 100% with the currency and certainly not fast on transactions. The locals either make mistakes or try to con me. I will give them the benefit of the doubt as I teach maths and its hard. Heaven help any Ecuadorean tourists that wander into this country.

Anyway after being successfully cryogenically frozen on the bus from Bogota to Cucuta I had crossed the border. The usual surly indifference from military people you want directions from. I got an exchange rate of 5,700:1 which at the time seemed reasonable given the real one is so shit and most gringos seem to get 4,000 or 5,000. Now the locals have told me I can get 7,000 I am going to hold out for 6,000 plus as they still need to make a profit. I only changed $100 at the border as i had no idea what the rate was and wanted to find out from some friends. Locals say I got a decent rate. I sorted stuff out and got a bus to San Cristobal. All the towns in Venezuela are very neat and clean. Except Maracaibo. There is lots of obvious public housing in tasteful red brick and it looks like Chavez at least takes care of that. On the way I even got my routine total search due to the Colombian stamp in my passport. This is going to be a frustrating recurrence. They even wanted my shoes and pockets. They stopped short of a cavity search, though I learnt a bunch of male and female tourists were forced to strip down together in a room in Caracas airport for a full probe. Unfortunates. I have noted the people are not as friendly as Colombia. They are not but its a generalisation. I know feel 50% are very friendly (especially if they known you are English and not American), which 50% are plain hostile. I assume the hostile ones are the Chavez supporters. The women are legendarily good looking and at the top end in Merida they rival Puerto Rico, but I think pound for pound Colombians are better looking. Will have to see when I get to Caracas. I figured it would be a toss up between here and Chile for 4th and 5th best countries in South America. The cities are very well sign posted, everything runs smoothly, everything is clean, American influences are everywhere and everything is priced. Ironically it is the most American of South American countries so far. I wondered if Chavez was actually an American puppet ruler from the good old times. The country is kept secure (which was the old aim), the oil still flows to the US and trade still booms despite the rhetoric (the main concern in old times) and maybe America realised by having anti American strong men the person maintains credibility with their people, trade is kept and the superficial is of conlfict, while the reality is business as usual. Quite far fetched but not impossible and it makes more sense the more you think about it. It definitely benefits both sides a lot.

Ah god Spock was on my bus again. The big haired American. Every time he talked I thought of the game Civilization. Weird man. The approach to Merida goes through some beautiful red and green mountain scenery. A scorching desert mountain colour. Very pretty. Merida itself is spectacularly nestled in the mountains. I could live there if it was not so small. I got into town late and checked into Posada Casa Sibana opposite Posada Suiza. This place is one of the nicest places I have stayed. I changed some dollars with a friend of the owner and asked if they had an internet cafe. They let me use their own internet in the downstairs part of the flat. I chatted with the children and the family. Unbelievably nice people. they deserve your trade and its cheap for very quality accomodation. I did not think the Venezuelans were living up to a hostile reputation. If you don't speak Spanish you might be in trouble and if they think you are a Yankee you can have problems. Everything in town was shut so I ate something and came back to watch Gladiator. After 4 nights of 2 hours sleep or night buses it was good to get a real bed for a night. This was where I found out I had an invite to go to the launch in French Guyana and decided to head there.

In the morning I got up and went to the teleferico. It was the longest and highest in the world and should be fun. It was broken. Till august. Shit. Maybe I will come back when I live in Bogota. Damn I got up too late to do anything else or any real climbing. So I walked around the pretty little town of Merida. Its nice enough. Smallish. Not much there, but pretty. I wandered out into the new town and had a look around. The river/creek that runs through town is quite good fun. Murray was knocked out of the French. Come on Federer. He needs this one. I found a flight for 160 quid. I eventually took one for 175 because it bounces all downt the Amazon river, rather than via Brasilia and should give more jungle views. Except my defauly expedia account has me down for an aisle seat. Dammit. I was supposed to meet Andrea at the cathedral. She never showed up, though the cathedral was nice. I did realise afterwards that Chavez is a dick sometimes. He has changed the time zone difference from one hour to half an hour. Why? I don't know. It did mean I was half an hour out in time and so was waiting at the wrong time for her anyway. I was half an hour wrong for 4 days before someone told me. I went to the famous bar in town. Its ok. Would have been better with company. Had a couple of beers and watched a life gig on the tv. When I was in front of the cathedral they were shutting. Someone pulled up in their car. The priest came out. They opened all the doors and he walked around blessing it. Very strange. Wonder if it ever crashed. Had a thought. They always say Sailors always have a girl in every port. Just a guess, but I reckon those girls probably have a sailor on every ship.

I got up early and went to get a bus to Maracaibo to be in time for the concert. I was there at 6.30 am but the first busb was 8.30 am. You have to pay a stupid little tax to leave the bus stations here. I know this, but I pretended not to speak Spanish and got away with not paying this time. Someone must have radioed ahead to here, because I was forced to buy one for Caracas. On the bus journey I finished Hunter S Thompson's 'Hells Angels'. Its a breezy, easy read but not as good as his other stuff. You can tell he was finding his style. Sort of like this for me. I saw the huge Lago Maracaibo from which 80% of Venezuelan oil is extracted. Its huge. I thought I might see the Catatumbo lightning, but apparently its only on the other side of the lake. Typical. At least I saw some silent lightning in Mompos. I had been told Maracaibo was different to Merida. Its the total opposite. Massive flat, very hot and laid out like a Texas oil town. It looks like it should be out in Texas, Merida looks like it should be in Alpine France. I arrived and checked into Hotel Caribe. It has tiles along narrow corridors. It feels like a prison crossed with a swimming pool. Shitty but cheap. I turned on the tv. Not many channels. Channel 13 Chavez's face, channel 11 Chavez's face, 9,6,5 and 4 Chavez's face. Hmm monotonous. Channel 3 hardcore porn. Ah one of those hotels. Channel 2 Chavez's face. So 7 channels of Chavez and hardcore porn. All it needed was for the guy in the porn to have Che Guevara's face and this was every communist students idea of orgasmic tv. I later found out that the other seven channels weren't the same. Chavez's face had just taken them over for a supposedly important announcement. I am surprised he did not overtake the porn. Even he has priorities it seems. I needed an internet cafe. All of them were shut (after all it was 7pm) and so were the phone shops. Some woman ripped me off to use her phone but I was desperate and I called Karen to meet her for the concert. I asked a kid (I still think kids and old people are the most honest) how much a taxi should be. He said 15,000. Taxi guy asked for 20,000. I said the kid said 15, he laughed and agreed. I got to the concert hall. It would be impossible to find someone here. I hoped my gringoness would stand out. I look too Venezuelan though and Karen did not recognise me. I stood by the entrance to look conspicuous. I felt like James Bond scouring a classical concert for a mark. I looked like a lost moron. The concert was really good and afterwards we met up outside. Karen and I walked and talked in the park until the police threw us out to close it. We then got remoevd from a succession of cafes, but it was a fun night. Concert had been good as well. Her university had been delayed for the week due to tear gas and political demonstrations. I asked what national elections. These were the student body elections. Apparently the first time the ballots had been stolen, then the next time their was fraudulent balloting. I can only presume they are being trained to work for Mugabe in Zimbabwe. When I left Karen I elected to walk home. She told me the city was incredibly dangerous. It did not feel like it. I set off for the lake, got lost once and wandered into some back alleys. Now it felt a little shitty. One dog jumped me and sent a shiver down my spine. Maybe this was not so wise. The streets were deserted accept for drag racers and mad dogs. Usually mad dogs are fine as you just run at them and they crap themselves. I had a problem with four though. They split round a pillar so I had two behind and two in front. Dogs will always attack and gain confidence in numbers and when someone runs from them. If you face them and advance, they realise they are a quarter of your size and one good kick would kill them. They stop and bark and wait till you back away. If you show them your heels they will have your ankles. I could not face both ways so struggled to contain them without being bitten. I had to run at two of them and then whirl on the other two. Cowards. I had no problems with people except one tramp who sized me up and realised he would lose. It was a long walk back.

In the morning I was supposed to meet Gabriela for breakfast but I overslept and had no way of contacting her. My alarm had been set for 8am. Or so I thought. I thought wrong. When I woke up I thought it was busy outside for earlier than 8am. There was also a pro Chavez demonstration out on the streets. Some shit yelled blanco at me. Tosser. I eventually found an open internet cafe and sorted out my stuff. The owner was cold at first. I had to go back and forth between there and a phone place to get Gabriela's address and when he found out I was English he was really nice. I grabbed a taxi to hers and we stayed chatting for a bit. She took me out to eat some typical Venezuelan food. All of their food is great except the shitty arepa. Gabriela is half Mexican and reminds me a lot of Yoana. Who coincidentally wrote to me about how 'El Monstro' was doing. Need to write back to her. Lots of energy and we got on well. Both share Bobby Kennedy as an idol. She had worked as a journalist, but had to quit because Chavez wanted them all to sign loyalty agreements as opposed to objective journalism. I like her stand on principle. Even if it means she heads to Europe with only $700 for 3 months. Thats ambitious. Will see if I can help her with a place to stay. Will probably go out with her and her friend in Caracas tomorrow as she flies from Caracas on sunday. Everyone here seems to want to visit me in Colombia. Should be good times in Bogota. I am spending too much here. Ooh my dad got engaged. I made him promise to fly me back for the wedding, so I may be back for a week sooner than I thought. I had a really good day and I had met two people from Maracaibo and liked both of them. Everyone here loves my country oddly though, they all hate Chavez (younger people) and they think everyone in Venezuela is too superficial. It really is quite American, but the arseholes are more Californian than anything else. I left Gabriela and got a bus to meet Karen in a mall in the middle of nowhere. We chatted for a while and then got stalked by some random girls who wanted to talk to me apparently but never bothered. Very funny. Apparently they thought I was Yankee maybe. They just kept staring and running round pillars. Like a one sided game of hide and seek. The Fed was playing tomorrow (today for writing purposes). He won just and made the final. I followed the game and England's surprising loss to Holland because I was stuck online. 20-20 is so clearly awesome and a great leveller. It will be the world's second sport after football. I still predict that. Dom enjoyed Galapagos somewhat, but said I only need 4 days on the boat and then could do day trips for the rest. Ecuadorean wrote to me again about meeting up. Probably will. Unless my dad has his wedding then which is best for me. I took a taxi back this time because I was miles away. Karen gave me a sim card which was useful and she will hopefully come visit in Bogota as well. Been helping her today with ideas for a European travel itinerary.

I overslept again today. I think I am ill and I have run out of listerine. Deadly. That stuff is the number one item (well number two behind a small pair of scissors) for travellers and the Colombian mulitvitamins are shit. Might get Helen to bring me good stuff from home. I went looking for internet (you have to hunt here. they don't give a shit about tourists. It is kind of cool to be the only gringo again though). I walked into a shop and the girl said I could use their internet for free. When she found out I was English she helped me out all over town all morning and wants to practice her English with me online as I am the first Englishman she knows. She also wants to go to England. Everyone does here. So strange. London is the best city though. 44 countries and its still the best city. Got to the bus station. Only buses are night buses. No parties tonight then. Saves me some money. So I was stuck here writing. Some bastards tried to sell me a nonexistant ticket (Anyway I did not want to arrive in Caracas until light. Was it really dangerous like Quito or overplayed like Guatemala City. Will have to see first). After that girl had helped me I was on my way to the station when someone shouted "Go home Yankee". I replied gracefully and with restraint "soy Ingles tosser". Should have used hijo de puta. The girl's friends had even got me free drinks. This country is Yin and Yang. On the one hand you have some of the nicest, most helpful people (Most of them hate Chavez) and on the other ahnd you have some immensely hostile pricks (I presume they follow Chavez's anti-American rhetoric. The Americans should pay me for the amount of repairing of their image I do. I even have to argue against their own god damn citizens. I want to read Obama's speech on Islam now as it sounds great. Roll on sunday. Want to watch Fed's match if I can. Roll on Caracas. Beaches and rock clubs tomorrow. And Dom gets in from Ecuador in the morning as well. Its the final two week push. Now I just need to pass the interview, get confirmation from the girl in French Guyana about the rocket launch and hope the river near Angel Falls fills up again.