Travel Roulette

Saturday, December 20, 2008

We awoke Friday morning at two. Our flight left Caracas at nine, but one needs to be at the airport at least three hours early here in order to ensure that you will make the plane. Our car arrived at three, Miguel is always prompt. We loaded our five bags and our sleeping child into the overly air conditioned car and headed off for Caracas. The drive was shorter than normal and we arrived at the airport just after five.

We made our way inside, battled through the crowds and stood in line to check in. That went off without a hitch so we blazed a trail for security. Well, first we had paperwork and airport taxes to take care of (it cost us about $125 just to leave Venezuela!). The thing I notice the most about Venezuela is the lack of instruction. There are no signs pointing the right way, barricades are not necessarily in the correct spot, and the personnel are certainly not there to help. We headed for a line that we thought was the right one, but it turned out to be all wrong.

The first soldier turned us around and sent us back the way we should have gone. The second, more senior soldier stopped and berated us in front of a crowd. He was loud enough so that everyone could hear him insult the gringos. He spoke slowly and repeated himself several times so that all those present would be sure to understand. Once he was assured that we had been thoroughly humiliated, he excused us back to the ever growing line.

After X-rays and metal detectors, we waited for passport control. Eventually we made it to the gate. We got there around eight fifteen for our nine o’clock flight. The plane loaded late and took off late due to security restrictions and general Venezuelan craziness. As a result we landed in Atlanta with less than an hour to get our bags, go through customs, go to the domestic terminal, and catch our connection to Seattle. The plane was delayed leaving so we missed it by a scant ten minutes. We were stuck in Atlanta.

That was last night. Friday night, the last weekend before Christmas, and we have just missed our connection. On the bright side, we were no longer in Caracas. This meant that there were actually people there who would help us out. Of course there were also about a billion travelers who needed help so the employees were a little haggard, but we were re-routed, given overnight kits, and sent off to the Red Roof Inn for the night with promises of a flight to Cincinnati and subsequently Seattle the next day.

There was a spot on the check in form for a wake up call; I wrote down 4:00. I joked with the lady at the desk about that early hour and headed off upstairs. We had a nice dinner at a little bar and grill across the street, complete with two pints of Guinness. After dining, we turned in early. We were all tired and we knew we had a big day ahead of us.

Our plan was to rise at four, catch the 4:35 shuttle to the airport, and begin the process of checking in for our 6:30 flight. Things did not go exactly as planned. Our wake up call never happened. Carrie awoke at 4:42 and started jumping around and waking us up. We were in the lobby by 4:47, but the shuttle was gone and the next one would not come until after five. The desk called a cab. Fortunately, it arrived quickly. The driver wasted no time in delivering us to Delta.

The line at the counter was at least an hour long. The first attendant told us we had to wait there. We tried self-check, but that didn’t work. I waited in line while Carrie went to the first class desk to ask. It was good she did as the papers we had turned out to be boarding passes. We raced through security and O.J. Simpsoned to the gate. We didn’t relax until we had seats and real boarding passes in our hands.

In Cincinnati, we had an hour to find our gate, get checked in, and relax once more. Now we are aboard that final craft, racing through the sky towards the frigid land of Lattes. We are tired, but happy that we are closing in on our destination. It’s crazy too, as Carrie and Z had an Alaska flight last night to San Jose. After about thirty minutes on hold, she learned that weather problems in Seattle had cancelled that flight and they would be re-scheduled for today at no extra charge. I guess it all worked out in the end.

It’s pretty amazing how well oiled the whole air travel machine is. I mean it seems like there is so much that could go wrong. Even in the face of adversity, however, things generally work out. We have always gotten where we need to go and we have always gotten our luggage. Sometimes we are later than we wanted and sometimes it takes a few days for the bags to get there, but they always manage to get there. It’s good to remember that as you watch the plane you were supposed to be on push back from the Jetway and take off.

MJR

Salto Angel

Saturday, December 20, 2008

Wow, have we had an interesting few weeks…I’ll try to start at the beginning.

Exactly one week ago today, Carrie, Zman, and I climbed into our car and departed for Angel Falls. The first leg of the journey was a ten hour car ride to Ciudad Bolívar. It was an uneventful drive, although we had a great lunch stop in Santa Maria Ipire. It was a beautiful little village with lovely people and great food.
We arrived in Ciudad Bolívar in the early evening and checked into the Laja Real Hotel. It was a nice place with a big pool and restaurant. Our first floor room was a little musty and really small, but we hung out at the pool, had a great dinner, and retired early. We had to be at the airport the next morning at 7. The hotel was right across the street so we figured that would make life easier.

Unbeknownst to us, one of the ballrooms turned into a night club. I woke about two to the BUMBA BUMBA BUMBA of the music. Carrie was already awake. I could see the steam rolling out of her ears. She marched off to the front desk and got us a different room. At three we all traveled to the third floor to complete the night. Needless to say we did not get much sleep that night. Six O’clock came awfully early.

At the airport we met up with the tour coordinator, Walter. He spoke a little English and totally helped us with everything. In no time we were loaded aboard our six seat aircraft for the trip to the town of Canaima. Zachary was out of his mind with excitement at the prospect of flying on such a small plane. Carrie and I were a tad edgy.

The flight was amazing. There were gorgeous views of the countryside, including miles and miles of trees and lakes. We touched down, in the rain, in Caniama. Canaima is not really accessible except by plane. There are roads of sorts, but one would need a better vehicle than mine to get there. It is tiny, but as it is the jumping off place for all things Angel Falls, it is quite busy and quite touristy.

José, our tour guide greeted us. Urged us to buy a rain poincho, loaded us into the back of a truck, and whisked us off to the port. We changed into our swimming suits, loaded into our water craft, and motored off up stream. Our water craft was a twenty five foot wooden canoe loaded with sixteen people and all of our gear. The seats were just wooden benches and the boat leaked through cracks and holes everywhere, but it was our home for the four trip up the river.

We got out for lunch at Salto Felicidades (Happiness Falls). It was there that I noticed the sign on the side that read “Max 10 Pass”. I ignored it and preoccupied myself with the beauty of the place and the hunger pains growing in my belly. Lunch was sandwiches, cookies, and Coke. After thirty minutes we climbed back into our craft, sat on that really hard seat, and headed off upriver.

I am here to tell you now that my butt will never be the same. The last hour and a half were torture. Fortunately, the scenery was astounding. That, coupled with the cold water that kept pelting me prevented me from dwelling on my misery. Finally, we arrived at a rocky beach and disembarked.

I quickly changed to my hiking boots and followed the group on a path through the jungle. It was overwhelming. I couldn’t believe that I was walking through the Amazon jungle so that I could see the tallest waterfall in the world first hand. I ended up having to carry Zachary on my shoulders for a good chunk of the trip, but I barely felt it. I could have run up that path and never lost my breath.

After about thirty minutes, we reached the lookout. The Falls were raging so we were unable to get down into the pool at the bottom. I gazed in awe at those two streams of water pouring forth from the top of the Tepuy. The streams soon dissolve into mist as they plummet to Earth. At the bottom, they coalesce again into an actual raging river.

We stayed for about fifteen minutes. We had to hustle back down the trail before the onset of darkness. As it was, we entered camp in the dark. Camp was a tin roof shelter complete with a kitchen and long picnic tables. All of our bags had been brought up and were awaiting our arrival. Dinner was Pollo Embarasado (pregnant chicken) cooked over an open fire. There was salad, vegetables, bread, and the ever present Coca-Cola. It was larapin.

As we ate dinner, the staff prepared our beds; hammocks, wrapped in mosquito netting and hung from the rafters. The three of us crashed immediately after dinner. I slept well at first, but then I got cold. It felt kind of good to be cold after sweating every day for the last year, but I couldn’t warm up and I never really went back to sleep. Morning came early; there was breakfast of arepas, ham, and eggs. Afterwards we loaded back onto the hated seats and motored downstream.

After three hours of stunning scenery and cold water baths, we arrived at our posada. It was located on an island in the middle of the river right at the base of a tremendous waterfall. The lagoon was invigorating and a little odd; as a result of a plethora of iron, the water is caramel colored. This did not stop us from swimming until lunch time. After lunch came nap time, and then came sit around and do nothing time. Before dinner we headed across the lagoon to Canaima.

We strolled around this pleasant little burg enjoying the tranquility of it all. The people were friendly and the streets were clean. A downpour caught us by surprise and forced us to seek refuge under the eaves of a church. We waited it out and strolled across town in search of beer. It was expensive, but cold and refreshing. We admired the trinkets and eventually bumped into the other guests of the posada, Manuel and Chiara. They spoke only Spanish, challenging our language skills.

Chiara had learned of a lookout spot and directed the pilot of our boat to take us there. Located on top of Uraima Falls, it turned out to be an access platform for the intake pipes of the hydroelectric plant. It gave us stunning views of the sunset over the village as well as a good close up of the monster falls.

Tuesday morning found us walking to the other side of the island. There we followed a path under another enormous falls called Salto el Sapo (Frog Falls). The path was wet and a little scary. Water from the falls drenched us as we walked underneath. Zachary chose to stay behind with Carrie. I went through first, took some pictures and returned to allow Carrie to traverse the path as well.

We were sad when we had to pack up and head off to the airport. We boarded the little plane again, bid farewell to José, and headed back to reality. We touched down in Ciudad Bolívar in the afternoon, loaded into our car, and headed off towards Valencia, arriving home Wednesday afternoon.

We spent the next day and a half packing for our trip to Seattle. It was a bit of a let down after our adventure, but we were anxious to get out of the country. It’s good for us to venture off into the bush once in a while as it helps us to realize that there are good things about this backwards country. It also helps us confirm the fact that we really don’t like Valencia much. If we had our druthers we would settle in a far smaller place like Valle de la Pascua or Ciudad Bolívar. As there is no chance of that happening, we will have to make do with the city and find the way out as frequently as possible.

MJR

Break Time is Coming

Saturday, December 06, 2008

Five work days left!

Last week was our annual winter concert. We spent the week rehearsing for the Thursday night performance. Zachary was so excited. We have been practicing his three songs every night for the last several weeks. He also got to be a Russian dancer in “The Nutcracker.” All in all it was a very exciting week.

Today the family went separate ways. Carrie and Zachary headed to the beach while I loaded into Steve and Laura’s car for a trip to Tintoreros. I am getting a little tired of the beach. I think I have been to the beach more times in the last fourteen months than I have been in my entire life. It’s not that I never want to see the beach again, but the road trip to Tintoreros was a nice change especially since I didn’t drive.

Tintoreros is an artisan market. We have been there several times. It lies about three hours away near the city of Barquisimeto. There are lots of things to buy, including hammocks, leather goods, jewelry, and various wooden items. They have these great wooden flowers for purchase that are so cool, but so fragile. Anyway, I bought some gifts and spent good time getting to know the Carahs. They went there ready to shop. Laura had a list and we were not leaving until she had something for everyone on it. There were probably a few folks who didn’t get checked off, but she did pretty well.

Of course, no road trip is complete here without a visit to the local constable. I’m still unclear as to why he wanted to stop us, but the story goes something like this; we were driving along, minding our own business when we encountered a checkpoint. This is not uncommon here and usually they are quite harmless. I’m not sure that Steve saw the officer wave us to a stop so he continued driving. By the time Johnny Law managed to catch up, he was not very happy. As Steve does not speak a lot of Spanish, I jumped out of the car to help out.

This man was speaking so fast, I could understand nothing. He refused to slow down and instead just kept repeating the same thing over and over again. Even though I told him I understood little, he just raced on. I tried to call our friend from the school so she could help, but he wouldn’t let me. Instead he insisted that our paper work was not in order. This seemed odd as the car is brand new, but we didn’t want to argue. He informed us that we now owed 460 Bs (about $100). In order to pay this fine we would have to leave the car there with him, take a taxi back into town, go to some bank, and pay them there.

As I was working this ridiculous idea out in my head, Laura slipped him 200Bs. Needless to say he softened quite a bit and allowed us to call our friend. Our friend let us know that the kind officer needed a little more holiday cheer. We slipped him another 200 and headed on our way. I love the police!

Five days left until break. We leave Friday to journey to Angel Falls, the tallest waterfall in the world. It’s a week long odyssey that includes twenty hours of driving, air travel in a small plane, a couple boat rides, some camping, and a whole lot of walking. I can hardly wait.

MJR