Land of the Lost
Monday, August 11, 2008
The adventure continues…
Linda and Zachary arrived Friday night. Their plane was scheduled in at 11:00 p.m. in Caracas. We decided we would drive there to pick them up. A woman we work with has an apartment nearby that she said we could use for the weekend so we decided we would drive down Friday and return on Sunday.
It must be remembered that addresses and street names here are non-existent so directions are nearly impossible. As a result, our friend gave us the number of a cab driver in Caracas who could lead us to her apartment. We left Valencia in the early evening and arrived at the appointed meeting place around 8:30. The fellow met us and led us to the apartment. He then asked what our plan was from there.
Our intention was to park the car in the garage, drop off our bags, and get a cab to the airport. This would relieve us of the challenges of driving in Caracas. The driver said he would tell us the way to the airport and then it would be easy to find our way back (he only spoke Spanish). His directions matched every other direction we have ever gotten to go anywhere in Venezuela; derecho, derecho, derecho. That translates to; straight, straight, straight. When we looked confused he said we should follow him to the airport and then the return trip would be obvious.
He insisted I ride with him. That is when I discovered that he was with his teenage daughter. She was about fourteen and was riding along because school was out and she had nowhere else to go. He was very careful to make sure that Carrie was behind him the entire time. He patiently gave me the directions in Spanish, repeating them ad – nauseum to make sure that I understood.
We arrived at the airport around 10:15. He told us that he was mistaken; the return trip was not as easy as he had thought and it would be better if we followed him back to the apartment. We reminded him that the plane would not even arrive for another forty-five minutes, but that didn’t seem to bother him.
Eleven o’clock came and went with no airplane in sight. At twelve thirty all the flights on the reader board had arrived except for Miami and New York. I heard rumors about storms on the coast and delays because of them. At any rate, at twelve thirty they erased the board and a whole new crop of flights were displayed. There were no announcements; suddenly the New York flight didn’t exist.
A fellow next to me asked me in English what plane I was waiting for. He told me he thought the JFK flight was delayed even more (imagine that!). Since there were no official American Airlines folks wandering around, I asked a porter what the deal was. He said, “3:00, the plane will arrive at 3:00.” That couldn’t be true so I asked another and got the same story.
I went to the driver and told him that I could not keep him and his daughter there until 3:00 in the morning. I insisted he go home. He started to argue and give me directions, but at that point I had been thinking and speaking Spanish for five hours. It was now one in the morning and I was exhausted so we ran inside and found the guy who had spoken to me in English to translate. The driver was not happy with this situation, but he gave us directions, admonishing us, “DON’T STOP FOR ANYONE OR ANYTHING. IF YOU GET LOST, KEEP DRIVING!!!”
Finally he decided that we would never be able to make it so he insisted that we follow him back to the apartment. He would leave us to get back to the airport and in that way he would be assured that we could find our way and he then could sleep well.
We arrived back at the airport around two, exhausted. We slept in the car till three and then ventured inside. The plane got in at three-thirty. Z and Grandma were tired but surviving, and all the bags made it through. We climbed back in the car and headed to the apartment, arriving around 5 a.m. We quickly fell into bed and passed out.
At 9:00 the next morning, some asshole with a hammer starting beating on my head. He was upstairs, beating on the concrete floor to fix the plumbing. After three hours of rest, we were all awake.
We spent Saturday in a beautiful area called El Hatillo. It is a lovely little suburb with great cafés, shops, and parks. We strolled away most of the day there, winding up back where we started in time for dinner. We decided on Sushi. We were sure that the sushi place wasn’t that far so we voted for walking. The restaurant turned out to be a lot further than we thought, down a really busy road, at dusk; never optimal conditions for walking, but especially so in Caracas. Needless to say we called a cab to get home.
Sunday found us on a bus to get to the train to take us to El Centro. We arrived at Plaza Bolivar in time for a big Chavista rally. This turned out to be the highlight of the trip as most of the shops were closed. We returned to the apartment in the afternoon to pack the car and drive back to Valencia. We made it without a hitch!
School started today; Zachary’s first day of First Grade. It was relatively uneventful, but exciting nonetheless. That’s another story for another time.
MJR
The adventure continues…
Linda and Zachary arrived Friday night. Their plane was scheduled in at 11:00 p.m. in Caracas. We decided we would drive there to pick them up. A woman we work with has an apartment nearby that she said we could use for the weekend so we decided we would drive down Friday and return on Sunday.
It must be remembered that addresses and street names here are non-existent so directions are nearly impossible. As a result, our friend gave us the number of a cab driver in Caracas who could lead us to her apartment. We left Valencia in the early evening and arrived at the appointed meeting place around 8:30. The fellow met us and led us to the apartment. He then asked what our plan was from there.
Our intention was to park the car in the garage, drop off our bags, and get a cab to the airport. This would relieve us of the challenges of driving in Caracas. The driver said he would tell us the way to the airport and then it would be easy to find our way back (he only spoke Spanish). His directions matched every other direction we have ever gotten to go anywhere in Venezuela; derecho, derecho, derecho. That translates to; straight, straight, straight. When we looked confused he said we should follow him to the airport and then the return trip would be obvious.
He insisted I ride with him. That is when I discovered that he was with his teenage daughter. She was about fourteen and was riding along because school was out and she had nowhere else to go. He was very careful to make sure that Carrie was behind him the entire time. He patiently gave me the directions in Spanish, repeating them ad – nauseum to make sure that I understood.
We arrived at the airport around 10:15. He told us that he was mistaken; the return trip was not as easy as he had thought and it would be better if we followed him back to the apartment. We reminded him that the plane would not even arrive for another forty-five minutes, but that didn’t seem to bother him.
Eleven o’clock came and went with no airplane in sight. At twelve thirty all the flights on the reader board had arrived except for Miami and New York. I heard rumors about storms on the coast and delays because of them. At any rate, at twelve thirty they erased the board and a whole new crop of flights were displayed. There were no announcements; suddenly the New York flight didn’t exist.
A fellow next to me asked me in English what plane I was waiting for. He told me he thought the JFK flight was delayed even more (imagine that!). Since there were no official American Airlines folks wandering around, I asked a porter what the deal was. He said, “3:00, the plane will arrive at 3:00.” That couldn’t be true so I asked another and got the same story.
I went to the driver and told him that I could not keep him and his daughter there until 3:00 in the morning. I insisted he go home. He started to argue and give me directions, but at that point I had been thinking and speaking Spanish for five hours. It was now one in the morning and I was exhausted so we ran inside and found the guy who had spoken to me in English to translate. The driver was not happy with this situation, but he gave us directions, admonishing us, “DON’T STOP FOR ANYONE OR ANYTHING. IF YOU GET LOST, KEEP DRIVING!!!”
Finally he decided that we would never be able to make it so he insisted that we follow him back to the apartment. He would leave us to get back to the airport and in that way he would be assured that we could find our way and he then could sleep well.
We arrived back at the airport around two, exhausted. We slept in the car till three and then ventured inside. The plane got in at three-thirty. Z and Grandma were tired but surviving, and all the bags made it through. We climbed back in the car and headed to the apartment, arriving around 5 a.m. We quickly fell into bed and passed out.
At 9:00 the next morning, some asshole with a hammer starting beating on my head. He was upstairs, beating on the concrete floor to fix the plumbing. After three hours of rest, we were all awake.
We spent Saturday in a beautiful area called El Hatillo. It is a lovely little suburb with great cafés, shops, and parks. We strolled away most of the day there, winding up back where we started in time for dinner. We decided on Sushi. We were sure that the sushi place wasn’t that far so we voted for walking. The restaurant turned out to be a lot further than we thought, down a really busy road, at dusk; never optimal conditions for walking, but especially so in Caracas. Needless to say we called a cab to get home.
Sunday found us on a bus to get to the train to take us to El Centro. We arrived at Plaza Bolivar in time for a big Chavista rally. This turned out to be the highlight of the trip as most of the shops were closed. We returned to the apartment in the afternoon to pack the car and drive back to Valencia. We made it without a hitch!
School started today; Zachary’s first day of First Grade. It was relatively uneventful, but exciting nonetheless. That’s another story for another time.MJR
posted by Bronx to Timbuktu at 2:34 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home