Road Trip
January 3, 2008
Venezuela, what a weird place.
We embarked on a road trip the day after my family left. We had no real plan, just a few guide books and a map. We plotted the first day and took off. We decided to not go near the beach as that is where most Venezolanos go on their holidays. We were a little concerned about lodging as we have been told that it is impossible to find a place at this time of year.
One of the books we have picked up here is a guide to Posadas throughout the country. A posada is like an inn, only all inclusive. For 150,000 to 250,000 Bs ($75 - $125) one can find a place with a room, dinner, breakfast, and lunch. They are generally simple but clean and the people who run them are usually very friendly.
Our first stop was only about two hours from our apartment in a town called San Juan de Morros. There is a thermal springs there and a nice hotel with a couple of pools. We made reservations for the following Friday (tomorrow), and headed off to the unknown. We found a place outside of a town called Calabozo. We were the only ones there for New Year’s Eve and since we arrived late and without prior notice we had to provide our own food.
The room was sparse and needed paint (not to mention towels and soap), but the ranch itself was awesome. 5,000 hectares of land complete with its own lake, a marsh and a mineral pool. We spent the whole of New Year’s Day in the pool; just Carrie, Zachary, and me. Leo brought us lunch, but informed us that the cook had stayed up partying all night and would be unable to come in for dinner. Fortunately for us a group of the owner’s friends arrived and cooked a magnificent dinner and breakfast for us. Though communication is still difficult, we managed to have some conversation.
On the second of January we took off for somewhere else. We were hopeful about the pueblo of El Sombrero because we liked the name; The Hat. It turned out to be a pit. In fact, most of the cities, towns, and villages we have visited are dirty little trash piles. I am constantly amazed at the amount of garbage I find wherever we go. Even at the beach people leave their empty bottles, cups, and old diapers lying around for others to enjoy. It’s truly disgusting.
We ended up at a small park just north of the town of Alatagracia de Orituco. The park is run by a co-op. There are quite a few co-ops of one sort or another throughout the country. Chavez has helped to get them set up as a means of employing the campesinos within their own communities. While the success of this program can be debated for long time, the idea is great. This particular group has taken over government land next to a reservoir and turned it into a park. There is a river for swimming, a small snack bar, two playgrounds, and four rooms for rent for 50,000 Bs ($25). The rooms each have a double bed and a bathroom. They are very clean and the people are very nice.
We arrived there around three in the afternoon. The park was packed. There was loud music, fires everywhere you looked, and cars parked wherever. Boy did we get the looks. Not only were we the only gringos, we were actually staying in the park overnight. Everyone took an interest. It was a little uncomfortable. It’s like that all over the place here. There are no tourists, or at least there are no North American tourists. Not only do we speak English, but we have a small child who also speaks English. We get approached all the time and questioned about everything under the sun. Most folks are curious to know what we think of their country. It’s as if they want some approval from outside that they are doing okay.
Anyway, once the park closed at six things quieted down a lot. In fact, we were the only ones left. We fixed an improvised dinner of peanut butter and jelly took a nice walk under the stars and headed off for bed. That was yesterday.
Today we drove through one of Venezuela’s national parks. The countryside is beautiful! We came within forty miles of Caracas, but never left the forest. We meandered along on a beat up, pot holed, sometimes half missing road through some truly gorgeous scenery. We stopped at a spot called Agua Blanca for a hike. This is one of the most popular areas in the park. There is swimming in the river, picnic benches, and apparently some overnight accommodations. We hiked on the obviously underused trails, wandering back into the rain forest until Zachary begged us to turn around. The ranger was shocked that we had been gone as long as we had; he didn’t think we’d make it very far in tennis shoes and with a five year old.
We decided to have a swim before devouring our tuna sandwiches so we changed and headed up the trail to the topmost pool. There were still some folks there, though the area was closing for the day. I jumped in and swam while I waited for Carrie and Z to arrive. A man started talking to me and then he went off and came back with a sandwich for me. It was stewed pork on a fresh roll and he insisted I eat it. It was very tasty although I didn’t care for the rubbery bits with the hair on them. I chewed what I could and thanked him profusely. When the rest of my family arrived, they were treated to the same dish. No sooner had I finished mine, then a woman showed up with a bowl of hot duck soup. She too insisted that I eat it.
This kindness is remarkable to me. I came to Venezuela nervous about what to expect. It was ingrained into us that we shouldn’t trust anyone here. So far we have been met with nothing but kindness and curiosity. It’s a shame that the country of Venezuela has been vilified because of its president. The people here are decent, upstanding folks, even if they do throw their trash everywhere.
MJR
Venezuela, what a weird place.
We embarked on a road trip the day after my family left. We had no real plan, just a few guide books and a map. We plotted the first day and took off. We decided to not go near the beach as that is where most Venezolanos go on their holidays. We were a little concerned about lodging as we have been told that it is impossible to find a place at this time of year.
One of the books we have picked up here is a guide to Posadas throughout the country. A posada is like an inn, only all inclusive. For 150,000 to 250,000 Bs ($75 - $125) one can find a place with a room, dinner, breakfast, and lunch. They are generally simple but clean and the people who run them are usually very friendly.
Our first stop was only about two hours from our apartment in a town called San Juan de Morros. There is a thermal springs there and a nice hotel with a couple of pools. We made reservations for the following Friday (tomorrow), and headed off to the unknown. We found a place outside of a town called Calabozo. We were the only ones there for New Year’s Eve and since we arrived late and without prior notice we had to provide our own food.
The room was sparse and needed paint (not to mention towels and soap), but the ranch itself was awesome. 5,000 hectares of land complete with its own lake, a marsh and a mineral pool. We spent the whole of New Year’s Day in the pool; just Carrie, Zachary, and me. Leo brought us lunch, but informed us that the cook had stayed up partying all night and would be unable to come in for dinner. Fortunately for us a group of the owner’s friends arrived and cooked a magnificent dinner and breakfast for us. Though communication is still difficult, we managed to have some conversation.
On the second of January we took off for somewhere else. We were hopeful about the pueblo of El Sombrero because we liked the name; The Hat. It turned out to be a pit. In fact, most of the cities, towns, and villages we have visited are dirty little trash piles. I am constantly amazed at the amount of garbage I find wherever we go. Even at the beach people leave their empty bottles, cups, and old diapers lying around for others to enjoy. It’s truly disgusting.We ended up at a small park just north of the town of Alatagracia de Orituco. The park is run by a co-op. There are quite a few co-ops of one sort or another throughout the country. Chavez has helped to get them set up as a means of employing the campesinos within their own communities. While the success of this program can be debated for long time, the idea is great. This particular group has taken over government land next to a reservoir and turned it into a park. There is a river for swimming, a small snack bar, two playgrounds, and four rooms for rent for 50,000 Bs ($25). The rooms each have a double bed and a bathroom. They are very clean and the people are very nice.
We arrived there around three in the afternoon. The park was packed. There was loud music, fires everywhere you looked, and cars parked wherever. Boy did we get the looks. Not only were we the only gringos, we were actually staying in the park overnight. Everyone took an interest. It was a little uncomfortable. It’s like that all over the place here. There are no tourists, or at least there are no North American tourists. Not only do we speak English, but we have a small child who also speaks English. We get approached all the time and questioned about everything under the sun. Most folks are curious to know what we think of their country. It’s as if they want some approval from outside that they are doing okay.
Anyway, once the park closed at six things quieted down a lot. In fact, we were the only ones left. We fixed an improvised dinner of peanut butter and jelly took a nice walk under the stars and headed off for bed. That was yesterday.
Today we drove through one of Venezuela’s national parks. The countryside is beautiful! We came within forty miles of Caracas, but never left the forest. We meandered along on a beat up, pot holed, sometimes half missing road through some truly gorgeous scenery. We stopped at a spot called Agua Blanca for a hike. This is one of the most popular areas in the park. There is swimming in the river, picnic benches, and apparently some overnight accommodations. We hiked on the obviously underused trails, wandering back into the rain forest until Zachary begged us to turn around. The ranger was shocked that we had been gone as long as we had; he didn’t think we’d make it very far in tennis shoes and with a five year old.
We decided to have a swim before devouring our tuna sandwiches so we changed and headed up the trail to the topmost pool. There were still some folks there, though the area was closing for the day. I jumped in and swam while I waited for Carrie and Z to arrive. A man started talking to me and then he went off and came back with a sandwich for me. It was stewed pork on a fresh roll and he insisted I eat it. It was very tasty although I didn’t care for the rubbery bits with the hair on them. I chewed what I could and thanked him profusely. When the rest of my family arrived, they were treated to the same dish. No sooner had I finished mine, then a woman showed up with a bowl of hot duck soup. She too insisted that I eat it.This kindness is remarkable to me. I came to Venezuela nervous about what to expect. It was ingrained into us that we shouldn’t trust anyone here. So far we have been met with nothing but kindness and curiosity. It’s a shame that the country of Venezuela has been vilified because of its president. The people here are decent, upstanding folks, even if they do throw their trash everywhere.
MJR
posted by Bronx to Timbuktu at 12:33 PM
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