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
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
posted by Bronx to Timbuktu at 5:11 PM
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