A detailed true diary of my trek to the 'Lost World' - Roraima Tepui in Venezuela and the jungle of the Orinoco Delta.
VENEZUELAN DIARY
28th February - 15th March 2001
Wednesday 28th February - Departure
08:16
Well, here I am on a commuter train in the rush hour. I should be in bed. By the looks of the faces on my fellow commuters, so should they. Not a single happy face, except mine. I gave up train commuting over eleven years ago and I gave up the rat race three months ago. While they get to their desks and start work, hassled and under pressure, I will be at Gatwick Airport waiting for my flight to South America. Didn’t get much sleep last night. Must be the excitement. Glad nobody complained about my rucksacks on the train, especially as I was carrying Ricardo’s as well. Tough if they had. The train was late. Isn’t it always? But what do I care? I’m retired (so to speak) and on holiday. Commuters are funny. On the platform, a young Irish lady enquired of a man “Will the next train be the page one of three, page two of three or page three of three”? He politely explained that the pages on the information screen all pertained to the same train which was stopping at three pages worth of stations. When the trains were getting more delayed, she then asked what had happened to the previous trains now that several later trains now also appeared on the screen. She is now aware that they are all in fact late and queuing up behind each other rather than disappearing in to thin air. Newspapers and magazines are popular on trains but it is surprising how the majority of people sit or stand and do nothing. Even their facial expressions remain unchanged for the most part. What a waste of precious time. Outside the train it is raining and miserable. People on the platform huddle under the limited roofing or stand alone with umbrellas. They look miserable too. Apparently it’s about eighty degrees in Venezuela at this time of year. I lied. It’s sleet outside. Ha ha.
09:53
Okay, I’m checked in and in the departure lounge. I’m always more relaxed when my luggage has been accepted by the airline. I’m proud to say that my daysack was specially selected for a random search at the x-ray machine. They didn’t find anything “sharp”. It’s amazing how so many people get confused walking through the metal detector. Maybe the machine affects their motor abilities. Fifty two minutes before embarking starts.
10:43
I’m at the gate lounge (47) waiting for boarding. Have just had a cheeseburger to fill a small hole. An old lady said I looked like a tall lad (I was sitting down). I denied it but told her that I was trying to grow. A man in the queue ordered a coke and specifically asked for it with ice. Americans are mad. When I flap my arms, I don’t take off. I can’t fly. This makes me a little nervous of planes. I probable won’t write more until I’m at the hotel tonight.
18:43
I had to get the bag out of the locker to get my pen to fill in my entry permit. I didn’t have a clue what it was about. What’s the difference between a last name and a surname? Going back a bit, we flew to Manchester first. The plane was virtually empty and I have a seat in the middle of the plane on an emergency through way row so I have massive leg room. Great. The crew were nice too. Then we got to Manchester. The crew were rotated and we ended up with a bunch of inepts. Then the other passengers boarded like a hoard of marauders advancing up the aisles towards me. It was a cross between football hooligans boarding their match coach and pensioners starting a trip to Southend. Still, I got a spare seat on one side of me so I have extra arm room as well as leg room. Chicken dinner was nice. Better take my anti-malarial tablet now. The first film started, which was all well and good but the sound system had been switched off. I told a member of the crew. She radioed down to the pilot who stopped the plane while he came back to put the sound on. I didn’t watch the film anyway. The second film was okay. The third film actually had sound from the beginning. Shame they forgot to switch the screens on this time. Why did they switch crews at Manchester? Couldn’t we have just missed out Manchester altogether?
22:27
It’s nearly half past two in the morning London time and I’ve been travelling for about nineteen hours. I’m pretty tired. The baggage reclaim conveyor belt at Porlamar Airport, Margarita which was for three hundred passengers but was the size of just about two snooker tables, broke down three times while we waited for our baggage. It was amusing to see the engineers walk up the belt from under the floor then walk back again. My travelling companion, whose name escapes me (Ian, I think), spotted me after about thirty seconds but, alas, an hour later, we had not been met by a rep’. The information desk helpfully arranged for a taxi and the pleasant driver, who had already offered his taxi to me twice already and been declined, took us to the Hotel Costa Linda Beach in a very comfortable Cadillac. American cars seem very popular here. He was keen to prove that his full beam worked by keeping it on for most of the journey. We’ve checked in, I’ve been to the loo and now I’m going to sleep. I’m in Venezuela!
Thursday 1st March - To the mainland and Ciudad Bolivar
07:03
Morning. I didn’t oversleep as feared and breakfast isn’t served until 7:30. Plenty of time. I changed my socks this morning after finding out where the jam from my scone on the plane had got to. I think I had about three hours solid sleep last night. The rest was rather ad hoc. I switched the air conditioning off at one point to make it quieter but to little effect. Have heard the birds this morning but not seen them yet. I have, however, seen my first insect life here. It was while I was in the loo. It was fairly small and ant-like with no visible teeth, pincers or stingers. I was not frightened. Have made a discovery about Venezuelan showers. They do not have hot and cold taps, they have warm and cold taps. I still feel guilty about not tipping the porter last night. I keep seeing his expectant face. Maybe that’s why I didn’t sleep well. Panic! Went to take my first photo of the holiday and the camera wasn’t working at all. I took the battery out and put it back in the right way round. It’s working now.
09:19
We’re back at the airport for the flight to Puerto Ordaz on the mainland. Breakfast was very relaxed. Under the shade, quiet and warm. Fresh bread, ham, cheese, fresh fruit. Ian has been to the Grand Canyon too, so we traded stories. Seems like we’ll get along okay.
10:48
Can’t believe it. I’m on a light aircraft designed for 12 passengers only flying from the island to the mainland. It took a while to check in as the Rutaca Airline desk was a bit confused about our travel vouchers but eventually fine. Paid B2000 (about £2) for the air tax. We went to the departure gate and the same boy from the desk eventually came round and led all five passengers to the small plane. Below, the sea is like barely frozen ice. There are small splash marks where I presume what must be dolphins are breaking the surface. We are too high to identify. Now passing over very hilly land. It’s brown! We pass a lake. The surface shows the same rippling as a fingerprint on wet matt paint. Another lake where seaweed tendrils of land branch out in to it. I look down on the clouds and then on to their shadows below. The clouds thicken then give way to reveal the long pink scars of roads winding through the now dry river valleys.
11:09
The pilot is sharing a joke with the co-pilot. I wish he would watch where he was flying.
11:11
Now they are passing a piece of paper back and forth and making marks on it. I think they are playing noughts and crosses. They are still not looking where they are going. Why does it matter? The pilot is barely tall enough to see over the dials and through the cockpit window anyway.
11:25
My old geography teacher would be pleased. I just spotted a perfect example of an Oxbow Lake.
11:33
We have a little turbulence as we descend through the cloud. The pilot is now looking where he is going although this was preceded by them both looking frantically out of every window up front to work out where they were when they came out of the cloud!
11:40
The trees below are hemmed in to perfect rectangles by the many perfectly straight roads. I say roads. They must be wide dirt tracks, multi-coloured pink, orange, black, white, like paint splashed on to a canvas. Suddenly below, large areas of trees appear brown and dead with just a few greens among them. I wonder why?
11:47
The lake we just passed over was green. I mean really green. Not the greenish colour you sometimes call the sea, I mean really green. It looked like a huge bowl of pea soup. It seems we must be landing. Oh boy. We’re banking. I can see the landing strip through the front window. I watch the wheel through my side window as it hits the tarmac. It doesn’t explode. We’re here.
13:30
Just arrived at the Hotel Laja Real in Ciudad Bolivar. Ricardo met us at the airport and then passed us over to Diego who brought us here. We’ll see Ricardo again tomorrow for the long trek. The journey here was uneventful with little to see. The driver was feeling a little ill at the end however. Ian and I continued to chat about the Grand Canyon and Las Vegas so the time went quickly. My room is sparse but clean. I shan’t take a picture. I have an hour before we get a tour of the city to extricate Ricardo’s rucksack from mine and apply some sun cream.
17:39
Just back from the tour of Ciudad Bolivar with Guillermo. It was a nice tour and he had a good sense of humour. He bartered with security so we could go inside a government building and look at a wall! All of the local government offices are painted in bright colours outside - blue, red, pink. Found out about Simon Bolivar who seemed to have been quite a restless chap. He obtained independence for Venezuela, doing the same for Bolivia, Colombia, Peru and Ecuador. All that and he was only five feet tall. There is a statue of him in the square. Apparently, every town in the country has a Bolivar square with a statue. He is quite a hero, even after executing another hero general by firing squad here against the cathedral after the general was falsely accused of treason by another jealous general. We toured the house where Simon Bolivar drew up the Declaration of Independence. There are ancient trees in the garden and paintings on the wall of the dignitaries from various countries that took part in all the negotiations. Saw some dolphins from a distance in the Orinoco from a new suspension bridge we crossed in the bay. Also lots of scavenger birds, a bit like vultures or eagles. Not sure which.
18:08
Just been around the hotel looking for food. Found two monkeys in a cage, two parrots, a parakeet and some sort of wading bird in cage and a fantastic fish tank. It has two huge Oscars, two even bigger Pacu, several other cichlids, cyprinids and catfish, including plecostamus and an eel. It was fairly crowded. Almost gave up on the food then found the restaurant just adjacent to the stairs as I was returning to my room. Thank goodness for that. I’m starving.
22:32
The manager of the hotel restaurant reminded me of Mr Bean. He served us personally and his total professionalism only seemed to make his appearance more comical. It wasn’t so much his face but his posture that was Beanish. I wasn’t sure what to order so asked Mr Bean for his advice on a local dish. He recommended a creme soup to start. I’m not sure what sort of vegetable it was a creme of but it was very nice. He also recommended a fish dish called Lau Lau. I hadn’t heard of the fish and to be honest didn’t even realise it was a fish dish until it was served. It was excellent. He was very anxious that we wash the meal down with an aperitif, so we did. I had some mint bols while Ian had something against his better judgement that Mr Bean set light to. I am very tired. I hope I get more sleep tonight than I have had so far this week. Tomorrow is the start of the holiday proper as far as I am concerned and will be my first encounter with rainforest. I’d be excited if I wasn’t so tired. Good night. Oh, forgot to mention the piano player, well keyboard player at dinner. In his forties, tall, a little overweight, glasses and a permanent cabaret smile. In a world of his own, playing away on his Yamaha, sometimes singing very quietly to himself virtually to a backing tape.
Friday 2nd March - Towards the Gran Sabana
07:36
The macaws in the cage outside have been most insistent that I get out of bed. having had a good nights sleep, I am happy to oblige. I wonder if I have time for breakfast before we are picked up?
10:36
We’ve been driving for about one and a half hours. So far, it’s just been motorway, almost like driving in Spain. A word of caution. Watch out if you drive up behind a Toyota pick-up truck. Chances are, as you overtake, it will turn out to be a police car. Also keep clear of the special police. Dressed completely in black and with loaded weapons, they look mean. Ricardo confirmed the large birds I have seen above are vultures. Small burnt patches in the undergrowth are common at this time of year and are caused by the heat and dryness. Just stopped for some supplies. Ricardo wanted to know if we wanted beer or rum for the trip. Rum sounds good.
11:22
We go through a small town. There is a stretch with stalls at the side of the road. Some have fruit. One had large fish with no ice evident. I’m not sure if the fish would stay fresh for long in this heat.
12:41
We stop for supplies for the trek. Ricardo buys pigeon peas and fruit. I’ve had all sorts of fruit juice before but here we have pure sugar cane juice. Very nice but I don’t think my dentist will be impressed.
14:22
On the way again after a lunch stop. Had the national dish of black beans, rice, shredded beef and fried plantain. A very good meal. Also a glass of fresh watermelon juice or should I say a glass jar of juice. Very good improvisation. A very small cup of coffee to end the meal in a plastic cup the size of those little milk pots you get in cafeterias. In this country you always get sugar. My dentist still won’t be happy. Four hours drive to go.
15:21
The land changes from scrubland to trees and back again frequently. The road surface is very bumpy. We have passed through several army road stops. They are the same design as the police cones - several cones down the centre of the road indicating a slow down zone. The soldiers look at the driver, maybe ask a question or two then wave you on. I saw one car having it’s boot checked.
15:51
We crossed over a bridge spanning a wide river. Below they were dredging the silt for gold. We just passed by the entrance to a prison guarded by the military. It is a prison for hard core criminals and was one of the many prisons that Papillon was held in. We have to continually slow down from 90kmph to almost nil to steer and avoid the many potholes in the road.
16:54
We’ve stopped off at a small gold mining town for a petrol top up and a drink. Petrol works out about 7p a litre. Ricardo bought a large bottle of rum for the trek. we’ll sleep well.
17:14
we are travelling up steeply now. Looking back, we can see the rainforest we have driven through and the horizon at Canaima about 100km away. As we turn a sweeping bend, there is a large rock face called the Virgin Rock. It resisted all attempts by the road builders to dynamite it and one of the several white streaks on the dark surface in the right light apparently resembles a virgin. There is a small shrine by the side of the road.
17:29
We stop on the road as a helicopter lands a few hundred yards ahead. Workers are fixing some cables. It takes off again within a minute.
17:53
We arrive at the Gran Sabana in Canaima National Park. Suddenly thick tall forest turns in to a wide open space with pockets of trees. The sun is starting to set.
17:57
Now the first of the Tepuis comes in to view in the distance. As it does, we pass a military training base for those doing national service.
18:03
We stop at the side of the road to have a beer and watch the sun set.
18:27
A Tepui stands bold against the sunset. We have to stop to take a photo.
18:31
A row of small fires line the centre of the road. It is another army road stop. The Pemon Indians are protesting the electricity line link being established with Brazil and have been destroying the pylons. As a result, the army patrol.
18:46
I’m in my room at the Kuravaina Lodge. It’s small, clean and perfect. The double bed is made of beautifully carved wood. We meet at 7:30 for dinner.
21:04
Dinner was once again superb, though it has been said that I will eat almost anything. Ricardo said that the Pemon Indians enjoy termites which they eat live or cooked in a variety of ways. I wonder if I will get a chance to try them. They also have a very hot sauce which they use with fish to make a popular soup. I’d like to try some truly indigenous food if possible. Tonight, I had the house speciality which was a sort of macaroni and cheese with ham, bacon and peppers. Yummy. Ricardo has lent me a book called The Lost World Of Venezuela And It’s Vegetation. It has been translated into English and covers the geological history of the region. I shall read it before I go to sleep, which will probably be before the electricity is switched off at 11pm. If not, we have a candle and matches at the side of the bed. Maybe I’ll use them anyway.
Saturday 3rd March - To Paretepui Village
07:29
I woke about 5:45 and got up about 6:30. Others had awakened earlier as during this time I heard shouting outside and vehicles moving. I wanted to wash my hair and was disappointed to note that the shower produced a small trickle of water and then nothing. I had to improvise. There was a shower head attached to the loo system. Whether it was supposed to be used for cleaning your bum or the loo I don’t know but it made for a convenient supply of clean water to wash my hair with and it reached the sink. I sat on the bed to clean my glasses and was surprised to fall through it. I had knocked out one of the wooden slats. Managed to fix it so nobody will know.
09:06
Just finished breakfast. Had an Arapa - a cornflower tortilla about the size and shape of a scotch pancake. You cut it open as you would a roll and fill it with butter, jam, cheese, ham or whatever. The outside is crispy where it has been fried and the inside has the consistency of mashed potato. At the end, the owner came over to talk to Ricardo. He translates for us. She is a Pemon Indian and probably the richest Pemon woman in the state. She used to be a teacher and recently received a state award for service. She was also the Captain of Captains or Chief of Chiefs among the Pemon tribes and was quite powerful. She tells us of the situation with the electricity lines through the National Forest. Opposition groups among the Pemon are getting advice from environmental groups from England and other places. Although they have been on the land for a long time, they have no legal rights and that is the problem. Small bands are active in destroying the poles and opposition Parties are using the issue to try to bring down President Chavez. the line is for exporting electricity to Brazil and is now well behind schedule causing penalty payments to Brazil. He has therefore brought in the army to stop arms from getting to the radical groups and prevent the destruction. He has said that the line will be completed no matter what. The Pemon are trying to negotiate at least free electricity from the lines and also title to the land.
10:42
After a stop at Kana Maru Falls we continue along the road. An Indian there was trying to sell dart blowpipes by demonstrating on a target pinned to a tree. Nobody seemed interested, though some soldiers there had a go. Roraima is still hidden behind other Tepuis. At the side of the road, just a few hundred metres away, we see a dust devil - a small vortex of spiralling dust about 30 metres high. it doesn’t move from it’s position.
10:52
Most of this morning I have been very excited. I can’t help breaking out a grin every now and again. The landscape is fantastic. Ricardo points out our first glimpse of Roraima but to be honest I’m not sure which rock he is pointing out before they are all obscured by a grassy hill.
11:22
A few minutes ago we turned off the main road on to a dirt track towards the Pemon village. The dirt track will run for 22 kilometres. I can barely write as we drive over ruts and gullies. This is certainly off road four wheel driving. I hope I can read these notes later.
11:33
Ahead of us is Roraima. Cloud fills the gap between two Tepuis like a huge waterfall of mist. One Tepui wears the cloud like a necklace.
12:13
We arrive at Paretepui.
12:30
Diego leaves for the long journey back to Puerto Ordaz. He will be coming back again tomorrow!
13:14
Relaxing in the shade of the hut eating lunch - pitta bread with cheese, salami, mayonnaise and chilli pickle. I can see the Tepuis out of the open doorway. It is so peaceful and I feel totally relaxed. Superb. A fresh slice of papaya to finish.
13:54
One of the Pemon shows us a ‘rabbit’ in his hand. Looks more like a mouse to us. It has been run over. Waste not, want not, he will have it for a snack. Apparently small but tasty.
14:32
Have just taken a walk around the outskirts of the village. Every sound is a dry sound - the crunch of earth and grass beneath my boot, the wind rustling the dried palm leaves, chickens stepping through the brush and the humming of insects. As I walk back in to the village, the sounds change to peoples voices and music from radios in several huts. In the distance are several pillars of smoke on the Sabana. I cannot tell if they are small natural fires or set by people. The Indians will sometimes clear a piece of land by burning for either agriculture or to drive animals in to traps or to clear snakes away from the village or at least make them more visible in the shorter grass. There are many red and yellow butterflies but none settle to allow me to take a photo.
20:15
Just finished putting out my sleeping bag and rucksack in the tent erected by the porters. I’m trying out my new self-inflating mattress and my travel pillowcase. Let’s see what they’re like. We had a dinner of curried chicken while the sun set and then sat out in the moonlight with Roraima in shadow. Tomorrow we start the trek. Meanwhile we have had plenty of dark rum to help us sleep.
Sunday 4th March - The Trek, Day One, 12km
04:25
Cockerels are supposed to crow once at sunrise. Nobody told these ones. The stupid chickens have been crowing off and on to each other for over an hour now. One will crow close by and be answered by another in the distance. About ten minutes ago, one of the Pemon families obviously decided it was time to get up and have started playing loud music from a new stereo they bought a day or two ago. On top of that, a cockroach has somehow managed to get in to my tent. It landed on my face. I found it with my dying torch but was unable to catch it to get it out. I don’t think I’m going to get much more sleep tonight. One and a half hours to sunrise.
11:39
We have stopped at a resting point with a hut. I have to say I’m pleased. The first half an hour was very steep and I became very fatigued. I was surprised how bad I felt. I couldn’t catch my breath and felt that muesli was going to show itself again. We had been joined overnight by a young Swiss lad. He stayed with me while Ian and Ricardo went ahead. I felt so bad, I really wondered if I was going to be able to make the trek. Even now it seems daunting. Fortunately when I did start again, the path levelled out and within minutes I felt as strong as I had first thing. We pass many areas burnt by natural fires that keep the grass low. Re-growth is apparent everywhere. One type of grass lives through these regular burnings and can live for thousands of years. There is not much wildlife. A few small birds, some crickets. Our paths sometimes cross with large black ants with fiery red heads. They are known locally as 24 hour ants as if they bite you, you have a fever for 24 hours. I am glad of this rest while we wait for the porters as my feet hurt and I can re-attach my sleeping bag which fell off my rucksack an hour ago and I have been carrying in my hand since.
12:29
We finally reach the overnight stop after two river crossings. Not that confident jumping rocks on a fast flowing river with a rucksack but didn’t fall. Feet a bit wet. A large group of Germans are also stopping here but we shall try to ignore them. Meanwhile the clay on the path has been so dry and hard you are virtually watching the sedimentary rock form.
13:07
Having a siesta and looking for lizards without success. Along the route I had seen grey mounds about 1-2 feet high with the surface patterned like the surface of the brain. They are termite mounds.
13:29
I don’t think my feet will ever stop aching but I’m sitting on a flat rock in the shade of a large tree at the side of the river. A cool, soft breeze is blowing. All I can hear is the buzzing of insects across the other bank and the rushing of the water. To my right, Mount Roraima stands majestic, it’s top still partially cloaked in cloud. Who cares about sore feet?
20:54
Going to bed now and hoping for more sleep than last night. Crickets are chirping but at least there are no chickens and hopefully no cockroaches. Dinner was chicken with rice and pigeon peas and bacon. Very nice and very filling. Of course we had some rum as well. Just had an interesting experience of going to the loo Sabana style. I won’t go in to graphic details but basically you go out on your own armed with a trowel, surrounded by insects and snakes then dig your own hole to fill in afterwards. At least I was on target. My torch batteries are failing but the light from the half moon is bright and sheds an eerie white glow.
Monday 5th March - The Trek, Day Two, 10km
06:30
I’ve had a good nights sleep. The sleeping bag was too hot and I ended up using it as a duvet instead. I feel very dirty and sweaty. It would be nice to be able to have a cool shower and put on some clean clothes but we are in the middle of the Gran Sabana. Today we trek to the foot of Mount Roraima. My foot feels bruised on the bridge. I hope it will be okay.
11:55
We are resting at the overnight stop under a shelter. We started about 8:15 and I felt extremely bad during the walk. My legs got heavier and the trail got steeper and steeper. I also had an upset stomach (mild) and needed to stop for that. I have just been down a little further to a small stream with a shallow pool and covered myself with cool refreshing water. I feel much better and will go back down again in a minute.
14:07
Must have been back at the stream pool for two hours. Dangling my legs in the clear water, looking out for tiny catfish and watching beautiful black and white butterflies flitting backwards and forwards. Occasionally a small bird would fly through at amazing speed. All you would catch was the shadow and the movement of the air from it’s wings. On coming back I have put some rehydration powder in my treated water. It tastes a little of the blackcurrant it is supposed to be. I have also put some antiseptic and a blister plaster on the single blister on the top of each foot. I hadn’t even noticed ‘till we got to the stream. Time for some fresh fruit.
19:29
I’m going to bed. I still think my stomach is upset. Such a shame. Outside is a bright moon with many stars and also Venus and Mars are visible. Every now and then is a brief explosion of light from fire flies. Tomorrow we have the climb. I can see the start of the trail at the base of the mountain. It looks like an almost vertical rock scramble. How am I ever going to manage that in my state with a backpack. Guess I’ll find out tomorrow.
Tuesday 6th March - The Ascent
06:20
I’m still alive but I was right about the stomach upset last night. Shortly after settling down, I had to get dressed again and go in search of a convenient site away from the camp. When I returned to bed I was quite miserable. My backside was sore, my knees were burnt where I had dared to bare them briefly by the stream, my hands too despite the sun cream. The blister plasters on my feet were uncomfortable. My feet ached on the bridges and soles. My legs ached and I felt generally weak. All night the wind blew strongly. Had I not been in the tent with my rucksack, the tent may have blown away. Was nature warning me not to approach the mysterious clouded summit of Roraima ‘ Mother of Rivers’ where the Indians say the good spirits rest? The warning will go unheeded. Today we will reach the top. I feel better this morning though I will likely not eat again until the top. I must not let the illness spoil the holiday. It is called the Mother of Rivers as water from the summit eventually flows in not only to the Orinoco but the Amazon and others. The bad spirits are supposed to reside on Roraima’s sister, Kukenan Tepui. Ricardo offered to take us there instead as it is supposed to be the most spectacular at the summit. However, you are not supposed to really go there as it is dangerous and people get lost and killed up there if not careful. the Pemon are also not keen on visiting the bad spirits. we stuck with the original plan.
07:43
The wind has died down. I have had a small wash in the stream and collected more water. I have decided to skip breakfast. I feel better though my feet ache and my prove uncomfortable on the walk.
09:56
We set off about 8am. We have passed through the narrow rainforested section where I saw my first wild humming bird with shimmering green plumage and have reached the rock wall where we are having a rest. My hat is dripping as I have just filled it with water from a stream trickling from the rock. Cold water on my head feels good.
12:30
Made it! Feel b****y knackered and I need more water. Worth the pain? Yes.
14:29
Just as I thought the walking was over. Ricardo announced after five minutes rest earlier that we needed to get to the camp site or hotel as he called it. It took twenty minutes and I could barely walk. I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired in all my life. One of the porters, Carmelo, had set off ahead of us at 5am to bring up the tents. He was coming back down as we went up and was then continuing the 22km back to the village! I had some fruit, a juicy apple that never could have tasted so good and a passion fruit that was full to the brim (after one that Beat opened yesterday had been totally empty). A cup of black tea followed. I have put my trainers on as they are more comfortable than the walking shoes. Wildlife-wise there are some birds that come in very close and some dark brown or black butterflies that seem plentiful but still won’t rest to allow a photo.
17:44
Just back from an afternoon exploring Roraima. The rock looks volcanic because of the black colour but it is 2 billion year old sedimentary rock laid down at the bottom of an ancient ocean. The only evidence of volcanic activity is the quartz crystal littered virtually everywhere caused by the intense heat from lava flowing through dykes in the rock millions of years ago. Many plants and far too many photos. We went to the edge to see KukenanTepui but the cloud cover was too heavy. It was quite eerie looking down at the cloud and watching as it crept towards you. We stopped off at a quartz crystal pool. Ricardo jumped straight in the middle as it was quite deep. I couldn’t come all that way without going in so I did. After all, I was missing my swimming sessions at home. I crept in gradually. It was cold, very cold. I swam a little but mainly trod water as the pool was quite small. I didn’t stay in long as it was bloomin’ colder the longer you lingered. It was so refreshing that I felt much better after. I will go again tomorrow.
20:00
Time for bed. Feet ache but otherwise okay. Had a look on the roof of the hotel. Fantastic views. Chanced having dinner. Seems all right. Very cold or seems it. Wearing tee-shirt, shirt, sweatshirt and fleece. After dinner we sat and looked out at the horizon. There are many fires below in the Sabana. If we stop talking, there is pure silence. No insects and only occasionally the wind. A large bat flew by. Totally peaceful.
Wednesday 7th March - Exploring The Summit
07:22
Been awake for an hour or so. A good nights rest at the top of the Tepui. The only noise during the night was a sound similar to a dripping tap. It is apparently the call of the black frog. I will try and find some today. Ian is opting for the walk to Triple Point where the borders of Venezuela, Brazil and Guyana meet. Beat and I are not going as it is up to an eight hour round trip, non-stop and all that is there is a signpost. Instead we will explore the local area at our leisure. I’m feeling much better today but my feet ache. Hopefully they will get some rest. I also feel very dirty and smelly and not too sexy. A proper shower is days away.
12:33
Had a three to three and a half hour trek and just back for some lunch. I seem to have taken a liking for the bittersweet taste of passion fruit. This is a green variety and is very refreshing. It has been alternatively hot and cool as the clouds have moved in and drifted away again. Many more water crickets but no frogs yet. We will walk again this afternoon. Beat and I are sharing a camera battery to take photos as his expired and there doesn’t appear to be any shops up here. the blisters did their best to spoil the walk as I had to watch every step to avoid the inevitable rub and ouch. They were a nuisance but that is all. I was getting out of breath quite often with the rock scrambling but I have to remember that the elevation is about 9000 feet and the air is much thinner here.
18:05
Back from the afternoon trek. Alas still no black frogs. We saw a large poisonous black spider poised to strike with a bright red abdomen. Unfortunately it ran off before I could take a picture. We were led to the highest point of the Tepui with spectacular views of the Sabana below. The cloud cover was getting thicker and we had a few spots of rain. We still went back to the crystal pool but I didn’t swim. Just a wash for the feet, legs, hands and head. The mist started to surround us while there and it was strange travelling back through the black rocks, pink sand, swamps and plants enveloped in this fog. This will be our last night here. Tomorrow we have the long trek back down. I am dreading it. I will have to wrap my feet well in plasters and bandage.
19:53
Bedtime again and I feel better tonight than the last two despite the daunting prospect of the hike down tomorrow. Perhaps it’s because of the steaming cup of cocoa we just had after our saltfish dinner. The hot chocolate was heaven although we are all looking forward to a cold beer when we get back tomorrow. There are more fires again tonight and I wonder how much Sabana will be left for us to walk through. Venus was the first light in the sky. Stars followed and eventually the moon crept up behind us from the other side of our ‘hotel’. It bathes the landscape in a silver glow.
Thursday 8th March - The Descent
06:42
It has been raining most of the night. I lay awake listening to it. The sound was of rivers rushing through rapids while more and more streams joined the flow. Now the only sound is the wind. The overhanging cliff walls of our ‘hotel’ spared our tents a drenching but I can’t believe that much escaped getting wet. I was imagining the marsh areas turning in to pools and the pools combining to form small lakes. Gullies would be flowing. No doubt much of the water has already cascaded over the edge of the Tepui and joined the rivers below. I am quite excited to see how the landscape has changed on our route back to the descent trail.
15:45
The walk back passed more pools than before but not that many. There were small waterfalls as we climbed down with a mist of shower at one point but we didn’t get too wet. We are now at the rest stop at the Tek river, which is past the two stops we made on the way up. Paretepui village is only about two and a half hours away but I felt like death on the hike this morning. The plasters and bandage worked fine on the trail down the side of the Tepui face and we made it in three hours. After that, my feet started aching all over, then my knees and ankles, then my shoulders. I could barely walk and we decided to stay here. Just had some fruit and feel better. Carmelo is supposed to be on his way to meet us with the cold beer.
16:26
I am sitting in the shade of the hut with the wind blowing through and making my toes cold. I am watching large black ants foraging for food. In this case, broken pieces of crisps and biscuits. They tend to find the largest piece they can then head off as quickly as possible to the nest. It’s like a heat of ‘It’s a Knockout’ with the contestants rushing off to get something bigger than them that is awkward to carry and having to grab it in their mouths and be the first one back. Meanwhile the opponents are trying to blow them over with huge wind machines. The ants have to march off past my boots and socks that are drying in the sun. This is as a result of my less than successful attempt to cross the Kukenan River via stepping stones and ending up doing a lot of wading. It was followed up by a pretty poor attempt at crossing the Tek River. Ho hum. Where are the beers? The other two porters say that Carmelo has probably drunk the beers himself.
Friday 9th March - Brazil For Lunch
10:40
I set off at about 6:45, ahead of the others as I knew I would be slow. It took about half an hour for Ian to catch me up. I kept up with him for a while but inevitably I fell behind. Only Ricardo was further back. I felt fine for about two hours then exhaustion started to kick in. I was down to my last trickle of water. My feet were very heavy. I was wearing my fleece despite the heat to protect my shoulders. There was no shade anywhere and not even a rock to sit on. Eventually I found a rock and collapsed on it. Ricardo caught up with me. When he learned I had no water left, he poured all of his in to my flask. I had to treat it as he is able to drink the local water as it is. This meant that I had to wait a further 13 minutes for a long drink. I felt a bit better after this but it was still very tough. Eventually we caught up with each other on a hilltop. We could see Paretepui. It may only be a collection of mud huts with no running water but to us it was like going through the desert and coming across Vegas. There would hopefully be cold beer waiting. Ricardo offered to take my rucksack from me but I was determined to complete the whole trek the same way as the others. As I carried on by myself (Ian and Beat were ahead and Ricardo stayed behind) I passed rows of trees on either side. There was a cacophony of sound from insects and birds on both sides like a crowd of spectators urging on competitors through the last 100 yards of a marathon. I crossed three streams in short succession. At each I dipped my hat and gave my head a cool shower. It felt good but I still had a way to go. As I staggered in to the village I beckoned to Ian and Beat to take a photo of me with my camera so that I could remember the agony. I then threw my rucksack down and sank on to a bench in the shade. Finally I was handed that long awaited cold beer. It is not the best beer in the world (Polar Beer - gettit?) but it tasted fantastic. I feel greatly recovered now.
17:22
At Ricardo’s suggestion, we popped in to Brazil for lunch. In order to get through the border you don’t need a passport just your yellow fever vaccination card. Only Beat and I had our cards with. Beat gave his to the driver, Jonathan. We drove through the Venezuelan checkpoint and then stopped before the Brazilian one. Ricardo led Ian, Beat and two girls that were travelling with Jonathan through a short trail over a hill and across the border. He had learned of the trail many years ago when he had been shown it by some smugglers. I moved in to the front passenger seat and we drove towards the checkpoint. The Brazilian guard advanced towards my window and not knowing much Spanish and no Portuguese, I was horrified to see that Jonathan had chosen that point to be talking on his mobile phone. I handed over my vaccination card and also showed them Beats card. I think the officer was slightly doubtful that Jonathan was Swiss and he questioned there only being two of us in such a large car but there was no problem and we were let through very quickly. We met the others around the far side of the hill. Lunch was traditional. Various salad items and also rice and some hot food were under cover in a buffet. It was an eat all you want type meal. The waiter then brought different types of freshly cooked meat over to our table on skewers. We would chose the piece we wanted and he would slice it off for us. There was a Spanish style sausage the name of which escapes me for the moment (choritzo?), chicken and steak. I sampled these and also had a lot of salad including a type of potato salad and some melon. I had a bottled soft drink that was nice and also had a little more beer. After this we really needed to get to our hotel to shower and rest. We passed through Santa Elena where I thought we were staying. I was getting a little bit worried every time we slowed down as it seemed quite a poor town an most of the areas we passed through looked like a shanty town. To my relief we drove out of town a little way and stopped at this beautiful hotel with a landscape garden, bar and all. My room has a proper loo, a shower and a comfy bed. Heaven. I’m going to have a shower now to make myself beautiful again. We meet at 8pm for a drink before dinner.
17:49
I’m beautiful again! The shower even had hot water. I am now emptying my rucksacks and putting the clothes in to three piles - 1) Clean 2) Used 3) Burn. Of course I’m not actually going to burn them but I think in order to get back in to the UK, I will need to put them in a bag labelled radioactive. I am going to treat myself to clean underwear now. Luxury. I appear to have a very small pile of ‘clean’ and a very large pile of ‘burn’.
Saturday 10th March - Jaspe Falls
02:04
Just back from clubbing. Ian stayed at the hotel to read his book but suddenly revived, I went with Ricardo, Beat, Jonathan, the two girls he brought along and a girl who was working at the hotel for a night out. We went to a place which for some strange reason had a rabbit running up and down the bar. Ricardo knew the lady running it. He seems to know everyone. We had a few drinks and Beat and I thrashed Ricardo and one of the girls at pool. At one point, Beat decided to help the owner chose some music to put on and ended up dancing some salsa with her. We then went to a small night-club and danced to some more salsa. I was surprised when the Latin beats were taken over briefly at one point by the sound of ‘YMCA’ by Village People. Is there nowhere you can go to get away from that song? Beat and I were still going strong when the others left so we had to follow. Ricardo says we will be clubbing again tomorrow. Better get some sleep as breakfast is at 8am. Considering the bad state of my feet and legs, I didn’t think I did too badly at the dancing. Perhaps I should have danced my way along the trek!
10:10
I was up at 7:30. Not bad. Difficult to get out of a very comfortable bed. Only Ian was up before me, not surprisingly. We waited for the others for a short while then decided to start breakfast without them. Bread, ham, cheese, arapas, pineapple, mango, coffee, orange juice. A very refreshing breakfast. Had an hour before we left so spent a while in the hammock lazing in the shade and breeze. All the dogs I have seen so far in Venezuela have been starving, thin mongrels but here they have a very healthy Dalmation. Spent some time playing with him too.
23:33
My book has been in the rucksack on the roof of the car all day so this is the first chance I have had to write. I hope I remember it all. Where to start? First stop today was Jaspe Falls. There are many many places that you hear about, read about, see pictures of that are really great but you know that the real thing will be a disappointment after the build up. Jaspe Falls was no disappointment. We walked down a path to the most beautiful piece of natural geology I have ever seen. The falls are not tall but they cascade over solid red and yellow jasper. Further downstream apparently the rock is also green and black. The water running over the bed is only a few millimetres deep as it is very wide and the volume at this time of year is low. You walk on the jasper which glistens with colour in the sun. Ricardo had previously said that midday was the best time as the sun is in the right position. We arrived at 11:50 and he was absolutely right. You have to be careful walking on the bed as the stone is polished smooth and has a slimy covering. Gorgeous and would be the perfect answer for a landscape garden. We drove further along the river to Curtain Falls, also jasper rock. Here Ricardo offered to take us behind the falls. I have always wanted to go behind a waterfall so I jumped at the chance. Wearing just my tee-shirt and boxer shorts (my trunks were in the rucksack lashed to the roof of the car) and glasses, I followed Ricardo in to the water. The river is not deep, between one and two feet, but is fairly fast flowing and, as before, the rock bed is slippery. Needless to say we were completely drenched. We had to pass through or stay directly under the gushing water a lot of the time. We also had to crawl through a small cave aperture behind the falls to cross from one side to the other. The trick is to hug the rock and move sideways very slowly with your palms flat on the face. There were times I couldn’t see under the full force of the water and it is amazing my glasses stayed on. I slipped twice but no damage done. In fact when I found myself on my hands and knees in the water getting no wetter than I already was, I asked myself why I didn’t just crawl along like that all the way. It was a fantastic experience. Unfortunately my one clean tee-shirt is now dirty but never mind. I also spent the rest of the day in my jeans without any underwear. Wasn’t I naughty? We had a really nice picnic lunch at a quiet stop site . We sat at bench tables in the shade drinking cold beer and coke and eating ham, cheese and tomato rolls and chicken. While there I watched vultures fly overhead and land nearby along with hovering hawks and some red-beaked Crested Caracara. They were all wonderful to watch, gliding on the breezes and just occasionally flapping their wings. The rest of the day was a long drive to Puerto Ordaz. I have become something of an expert on Venezuelan driving practice. Firstly, what side of the road do they drive on here? Officially it is the right but in practice it is whatever side has the least cars and / or potholes. Steering. Using one hand to steer is acceptable but preferably you shouldn’t use any. Instead you should rest your body forward on to the steering wheel and wrap your arms lovingly around it. It is customary for at least one hand to be hanging out of the window while driving or clutching a mobile phone. Speed. Yes there are speed restrictions, at least there are signs. Why? I have no idea. In practice the speed on any road must be under 20kmph or over 120 kmph. No driving in between. Horns and flashing headlights are actually used for a purpose here and not just for macho bravado as in Europe. You always use one or the other when overtaking or at junctions to let the other cars know you’re there. They won’t be looking otherwise. What side to overtake on? Whichever side has the biggest gap or is the side away from the one that the car in front keeps veering towards. Who has right of way at junctions? Whoever puts their foot down first and gets their bumper in the way. I found that cars at junctions went at the same time but somehow always seemed to mesh together smoothly. Jonathan drove fast but demonstrated a deep understanding of all the above rules. He slowed down well in anticipation of potholes and army stop points and on the whole was reassuring. He had to stop pretty quickly at one point when a cow trundled out of the darkness along the road towards us. The man following the cow received a few words of greeting from Jonathan as we passed but instead of just shouting out of the window, he actually slowed down, opened the door and swung half out to shout behind us. We stopped at a Chinese restaurant for dinner. It was very cheap - about £46 for seven of us but not as good as back home. As we would not be seeing Jonathan after tonight, I paid for the meal as a thank you for all his driving and to Ricardo for doing such a good job. Ricardo will pick us up in the morning to take Ian and I to the Orinoco Delta. I am really looking forward to that. In the meantime, we are not staying in the best of areas. If it were the UK we might call it the slums situated near a red light district. We even passed transvestite prostitutes on a street corner while driving and it is probably not a place you would go out alone in. For that reason, Beat and I decided not to go out on the town again after all. The hotel is very spartan but at least the bed is clean and that’s all I need for one night. It is better than spending all of tonight on the overnight bus to get here which was the original itinerary. The room is stiflingly hot but I am going to try and get as much sleep as possible. There is some sort of appliance high on the wall which may be an air conditioner but in view of it’s precarious fixings and the loose appearance of the on / off switch, I am going to leave well alone. Beat is also staying at the hotel tonight but we will not see him tomorrow as we will be going separate ways. The Lodge at the Orinoco is above his limited budget and after two months in Latin America he intends to spend the last two weeks on a beach somewhere. We wished each other luck and exchanged e-mail addresses. He’s a good bloke and it will be nice to keep in touch. I knew I’d forget something. We were still driving when darkness fell and we saw yet more evidence of the dry season fires. In the distance along the road we would see glowing. As we approached, the car would be enveloped in smoke briefly and we would pass the flames eating up the grass and shrubs at the side of the road. No fire was too large but one still gave off enough heat to feel in the car.
Sunday 11th March - To the Orinoco
08:26
Slept well, though the room was hot and sticky without the air conditioning. Been bitten a couple or seven times by a mozzie. Had a refreshing COLD shower and just about ready in time to meet Ricardo downstairs.
09:22
Ricardo picked us up in a nice Mercedes people carrier. Plenty of comfortable room for the journey and air conditioning. We have to cross the Caroni River by car ferry. Oddly it is also the Orinoco River as there is a confluence here and the two run side by side without mixing at all. It is strange as the water is very choppy but to my right I can see the Orinoco flowing down alongside and it is much calmer. It even appears to be a slightly different shade of muddy green. One river is saltwater, the other is fresh. The cars are packed on to the ferry as tightly as possible and there is just enough room for the horde of vendors to descend on the cars selling food, drinks, balloons, c.d.’s and sunglasses. We get some monkey nuts, dried plantain strips and water. There are plans to replace the ferry with a bridge so they may be out of a job soon.
09:32
As we disembark, it is a free for all with every car for themselves.
09:42
Back on the road. A sudden proliferation of cactus, absent previously. What is noticeable about them is not so much their height, which is considerable, but the number of branches with many looking like standard trees.
10:47
After passing through areas of pine trees (in Venezuela?) grown for paper, we stopped off for coffee. Also had a fresh pineapple drink. Fruit juices here are made on the spot, blending the fruit in front of you. This was so thick it was like a milkshake.
10:53
An oil pipe runs alongside the road. A reminder that we are in an oil producing state now. The pipe is raised above the ground and is thinly rusted on the sides.
11:04
Seen a few fields of cattle. They have humped shoulders and loose folds of skin on the throats. There are also horses. There are a number of ponds in the fields and I’ve seen a few stork-like birds as well as the occasional hawk. We pass by an army training camp complete with a small assault course and rows of small basic tents.
11:18
The road is poorly maintained, as usual. This time we are not in a 4x4 and we have to take the potholes very carefully. Ricardo spots one a little late and the car bounces nicely over the bump. I’m glad the roof of the car is high with plenty of headroom.
11:50
We drove through a small village and off on to a dirt track. Suddenly we seem to be surrounded by trees. We cross a small bridge over a muddy river and stop. The airboat from the lodge is not here to meet us so a local man radios the lodge to fetch it. It seems to be taking a while to get through to them. Meanwhile I look for signs of life in the water. Too muddy to see fish but there are dragonflies and damsel flies and a young Indian boy swimming past. We wait for a boat.
12:52
Ricardo left about 45 minutes ago and we have been sitting in the shade. Children are playing in the water. One is nonchalantly firing a catapult at railings and birds. Yellow breasted flycatchers are everywhere, swooping low to catch insects and then straight back in to the trees. Suddenly I see a large iguana (1-2 feet long) comically running across the road at full pelt. He is being chased by a man who is probably attempting to catch dinner. The iguana escapes down the bank and in to the water. The boat has arrived. A man from the travel company has arrived in a transit presumably to pick up returning passengers from the boat. The boat is empty. The drive here is a long one and he does not appear too happy as he towers over the small locals shouting. They do not appear to be bothered too much. He checks our travel vouchers while he is there.
15:51
I am now relaxing in the hammock room at Boca De Tigre Lodge and I mean relaxing. The airboat set off at about 13:15. We had to wear life jackets and ear defenders. The ride was exhilarating. The huge caged propeller at the rear, skimmed the flat bottomed metal boat across the water very quickly. Pieces of Water Hyacinth flew at us as we scythed through the solid matt of green floating on the river. At some points the plants were so thick you couldn’t see the water. Normal boats would have great difficulty getting through. I saw a turtle sitting on a rock but little else as the speed and noise of the boat would have frightened everything away. There were plenty of butterflies, a blue one the size of my hand. Half way we stopped mid-river and transferred to a motorised tourist boat with a canopy. This was a little slower and the whole journey took about an hour and a quarter. I have, of course, always wanted to go down a river in to the jungle and even the strong wind holding my head back on the airboat couldn’t wipe the grin off my face. I was finally where I had always dreamed of being. As we docked at the lodge, we were welcomed and given a fruit drink with rum. We were shown to our rooms by Paco who appears hyper active all the time. He is thin with a goatee beard and large round glasses. He showed us to the dining area and we had a complimentary rum and coke while they made us some dinner consisting of fried LauLau, chips, salad and bread. While we drank coffee to finish, the head cook, Daniel, introduced himself. He is also Guyanese (like Ricardo) and speaks good English. He told us about the lodge and advised us that if wanted any fruit at any time we just needed to ask him. Bunches of bananas hang in the dining area and we are free to pick them as we want. He then showed us the hammock room where I am now. A large wooden building with four hammocks. Mosquito netting allows good views of the trees outside while I stay in the shade and cool listening to the many birds around us. Had a little difficulty opening the front door to get out and fetch my diary so used the back door. This is Ian’s first time in a hammock. He is already asleep.
17:20
Looks like I must have fallen asleep too. Have just woken from a dream that I can’t remember to find myself in what could easily be another. Large palm and yucca leaves are swaying in a breeze and a few minutes ago a macaw flew past. I could happily stay here a long time.
18:38
Just back from a canoe ride. Ian and I took a fibre glass wide canoe out for a paddle. We went upriver and then back along the shore. Took a picture of the sunset. We will have to do this again but take the boat down some tributaries in order to see more wildlife. Dinner in an hour. Probably lounge about until then.
23:46
I have just been beaten twice at boules. Once by one of the staff and then by Ian. Our host, Paco, decided to get us and some Germans drunk after dinner by showing us how to make a ‘real’ Cuba Libre with rum, gin, Angostura, coke and lime. Among his many jobs in the past he was a barman as well as being a professional diver for the oil companies. He also tried to teach a German mother and daughter to dance Latin, then me. He is mad. The generator has now gone off and I am doing this by failing torch-light. I had better go to bed.
Monday 12th March - A Visit To The Shaman
12:27
I’ve been ill again. Severe belly ache and bad bum. Ian has also had problems but not as bad. I missed out breakfast. Paco, Daniel and Ian knocked first thing as I hadn’t turned up for breakfast and I was offered breakfast in bed. When they found out I was ill, they were all very anxious to get me anything I needed and look after me. I also missed the morning boat trip. Ian said they went upriver transferred to canoes and went down one of the channels. There was little wildlife but I missed the jungle walk and the chance to go piranha fishing. Ian said he didn’t catch anything. I’m pretty annoyed and miserable at missing all that because of my stomach. I will not have lunch. Had a disgusting rehydration drink instead. Hoping I will be up to the boat trip at 2pm.
13:36
I tried an alka seltzer earlier. It may be working. Daniel has brought me a coke with lemon (no ice - the possible cause of the upset). He reckons it is good for a bad stomach. I am very doubtful but it shouldn’t do any harm and at least it will take away the taste of the rehydration drink. If I want any food at any time, he will prepare some for me.
14:01
Still feeling fragile but at least I am now sitting outside my room on the veranda. I can hear the beautiful black and gold birds overhead. They fly past but too quickly to photograph. They live in dangling nests over the lodge and apparently always stay where there is human activity. There are more beautiful blue butterflies and I can sit and watch the Orinoco flowing by from my cane chair in the shade.
14:14
Ian says that the boat trip is 3:30 and he thinks it is to an Indian village. However I feel, I am determined not to miss another trip. While we were sitting here a tiny humming bird hovered next to flowers a few feet away.
14:32
The sky has been overcast for about ten minutes. The birds seemed to quieten down but are now shrieking again. No rain as yet. The humming bird just returned but I was not quick enough for a picture.
14:39
A large flying insect just flew past and around flashing some iridescent blue. Cheo, one of the senior staff, also passed at this time to see how I was feeling and said that it was a bee that kills and eats spiders.
18:36
We left for the trip about 3:30 and just arrived back. The Orinoco is so wide that it contains a number of large islands and we essentially circumnavigated one of these. As before, little wildlife, though we did see some beautiful Scarlet Ibis and, towards the end, some Howler monkeys. The monkeys were high up in the trees and difficult to see. The main aim of the trip was, however, to see the Warao Indians. As we motored the river, houses were set sporadically along the shore. Children were often excited to see the boat and waived to us enthusiastically. The first stop was a large family in a typical stilted set of dwellings. Entry to the living areas from the boat is by walking down a felled log. It seems that my incidents with the river crossings in the Gran Sabana were still affecting me as I could not maintain my balance at all and nearly gave up. Slowly, slowly I made it. The elder man in the dwelling was a shaman and Paco told him of my stomach upset. I was promptly asked to sit down so that I could receive treatment. The shaman prepared himself by lighting and smoking a fragranced stick. He then rubbed his hands with a red substance from a small round tin that smelled of menthol. He put his hands on my stomach and proceeded to massage me and pinch the skin, to draw out the spirit of the pain. Every now and again, he would raise his cupped hand and blow the spirits away. On a couple of occasions he cried out as if in pain, presumably as he had got hold of a large spirit. He put his mouth to his hands towards the end of the treatment to suck out any more spirits from my stomach. The whole treatment lasted about ten minutes and I paid him B5000, a fiver. Did it work? It was certainly soothing while he massaged but not long after in the boat, my stomach was aching again. Worth a go and certainly a different experience. I feel very tired now but also hungry so I will attempt to eat something tonight. The second village we visited were a slightly different Warao with different features. The men were busy loading fish on the quay and I saw large catfish being thrown up from the canoes. I stayed in the boat as I was feeling too good. I hope and believe that I will be recovered in the morning. Forgot to mention, on the boat, one of the guides picked some coco fruit from the river side. It is like a small coconut, hard and brown. It is broken open to reveal small kernels. Opening the kernels reveals a very small amount of sweet fruit, similar to the passion fruit. We tried some but hardly filling - about a pea sized amount in each kernel.
21:19
Had some dinner and hoping will be okay. Ate some fried fish with some palm stalk pieces and some fresh fruit salad. Going to bed now. Ian says he has a large frog in his shower. I can hear one croaking loudly and persistently. Hope it’s not his.
Tuesday 13th March - A Walk In The Jungle
07:50
Up and dressed and feeling better. Thank goodness.
12:07
Welly boots on this morning as we set out for a jungle trek and Piranha fishing expedition. I was so glad I hadn’t missed out on these. We were joined by an older Swiss man who is only here for a day. It was soon apparent why the boots were needed as we climbed out of the boat in to thick mud interspersed with tree roots. Paco showed us the different uses of the trees and plants, some to eat, some to build with or make fishing rods out of. At one point a guide walked over to a huge tree buttress and hit it with the blunt side of an axe. It created a huge boom that resounded across the forest. Several booms later and we received a reply from the guide who had stayed with the boat. There were termite nests everywhere on the trees and also butterflies, dragonflies and damsel flies. Otherwise, surprisingly few insects. We heard what was likely to be a deer at one point but did not see it. A howler monkey also lay disinterestedly on the top of a tree. We had little success fishing. The guides caught two puffer fish and one piranha. One puffer fish blew up to the size of a cricket ball and stayed inflated even after being thrown back in the river. To prove the piranha was a piranha, one of the guides held it in his hand while Paco put a piece of plant stalk near to it’s mouth. Each time it was placed close, the Piranha snapped at it repeatedly, gnawing it’s way through. There is a small fruit which resembles three marble size coconuts stuck together. You cut the top off them to reveal a white interior with water inside. You don’t eat the flesh but just drink the water. Fairly tasteless, a bit bitter. We were also given a piece of a celery-like plant. Again rather than eat it, you chew it, drinking the water it contains then spitting out the stem after. This tasted very bitter to me. The opportunity was given to eat the famous Moriche grub but this white maggot about 4-5 inches long is not particularly appetising, especially as you watch it rippling beneath the skin. When Paco ripped it’s head off, squeezed out the insides (a gooey white substance that the Indians also eat) and then popped the skin in to his mouth to eat it, it was one of the most disgusting things I have ever seen. It was a very interesting morning and I finally got my walk in a jungle and a canoe ride down a quiet tributary. In the jungle, the plants were so thick it is no wonder many of the animals go unseen. I spent most of my time watching my steps in case I ended up knee deep in water and mud. A guide stripped one plant to produce a sort of parchment. Using a cut down stick from the same plant, we wrote our names on the parchment and it was left on a pole in the jungle as testimony to our visit. The canoe ride in to the depths of the jungle was wondrous. At times we stopped paddling and just drifted along soundlessly. We steered around bends and ducked our heads to avoid overhanging branches and vines. Butterflies and dragonflies fluttered around us but I still couldn’t catch a blue butterfly at rest for a photo. I could have happily drifted there for hours taking in the stillness and seeming solitude of the place, so peaceful and untouched. Wonderful.
15:29
About to go on another village trip. Had a nice sleep in a hammock for an hour after lunch. Got my book out to update this and one of the golden Orioles decided to let go their droppings over my ear, shoulder and book. Thank you.
18:26
We were joined on the trip by a delightful couple in their fifties originally from Malta and now from Australia. They had arrived today. We stopped off at two plantations and sampled different fruits. There are a number of different coco plants including coconut, cacao (chocolate) and others. We sampled the raw cacao fruit but then met a Guyanese lady who pulps it and makes it in to balls of chocolate. We took some back and will have chocolate drinks tonight. Another coco plant like a yellow coconut is full of sweet water. I had a picture taken of me drinking it. Paco wants to drink this tonight with whisky. Of course everything there is in the “hongle”, as Paco calls the jungle, is “very good, very, very good”. yesterday apparently nearly everything was “very good” for my stomach. We also stopped at a sandbank which was gradually disappearing under the incoming tide. At low tide it is quite large and people go there to collect giant snails which are eaten. Paco jumped on to the sandbank but was only able to find two tiny snails, getting very wet in the process.
19:10
Find myself thinking more of home today. The holiday is fantastic but it has been tiring and now it is time for home comforts. Flying home tomorrow and looking forward to seeing and speaking to everybody on Thursday.
22:06
Just had what is likely to be my last dinner in Venezuela. Fish again, fried as is most food here. We did finish off with hot cocoa made from the fresh chocolate we purchased from the lady this afternoon. Paco was telling us all through dinner about his diving exploits for the oil companies and how he has had to dive in the Orinoco several times against his better judgement. You cannot see anything under water and even radar will not work because of the sediment. There is also high water pressure and great variances in depth. There are of course Piranha and hungry crabs to contend with as well as various other nasty water creatures that burrow in to the skin. It is not even possible to wear a wetsuit. A good idea I think not to have gone swimming in there like the local Indians do. Tomorrow we leave after breakfast. In the meantime saw two frogs next to the boules area. One was large, the other was huge. I stroked one with a long leaf and it automatically puffed itself up in defence. It deflated when it realised I wasn’t going to eat it. Otherwise they both remained motionless, probably waiting for insects to fly by to eat. There is a large tortoise here that appears to be kept as a pet. It stays so still I have only just noticed it, despite walking past it many times over the last couple of days.
Wednesday 14th March - The Long Journey Home
10:05
We’ve been travelling by boat for an hour but have now got to cut the engines and wait for the airboat. The water Hyacinth is far too thick here and would ruin the motor blades. We are virtually surrounded by green.
10:17
As we sit here, becoming enveloped in the mass of plant and being investigated by bright red dragonflies, it is very disconcerting. If we look to one side we appear to be drifting forward. In another direction, we are staying still and in another we seem to be moving backwards. It all depends on the wind and river flow as different parts of the mass move at different speeds with the current.
11:42
Still waiting for the airboat and the flies are getting annoying, especially one huge wasp looking thing that is probably harmless but looks menacing as it hovers in and around the boat. A canoe with a family of Indians we passed a long time ago have paddled past us and some more Indians in a motorised dugout have gone through the plants very slowly. They are finding progress very difficult and the paddled canoe are trying to follow in their wake. We have no communication at all from here, surrounded by the plants in the middle of the Orinoco. We have two planes to catch and the airboat has a history of maintenance problems. Only yesterday it was grounded with dead batteries and indeed we are carrying a couple of spares for it now. It’s a little worrying as it should have met us an hour and a half ago. A larger boat with Indians has just pulled up and offered us a ride so we have now transferred to them. At least we are moving now.
11:52
Typical. As we transfer, so the airboat arrives. They have gone past us to deliver passengers to our first boat then will turn round and pick us up from this boat. Meanwhile we are clearing a channel for the Indian family in their canoe who are paddling like mad to stay in the clear water created by our propellers.
11:59
The cavalry is steaming up behind. Time to transfer again.
12:22
We arrive at the landing station. An hour and a half wait for a twenty minute journey. Of course there is no bus waiting for us.
13:51
Our driver arrived at 12:35 to pick us up. He is the same angry man we saw when Ricardo dropped us off a few days ago. A large gorilla of a man, over six feet tall, very broad with thick, hairy arms and hands and a paunch stomach. He rarely smiled, if at all and is the sort that would normally be mistaken as nasty but in actual fact would be a gentle giant. I was left in a bit of doubt when he reached out while driving and casually squashed a fly on the inside of the windscreen with his thumb. He then peeled it off and dropped it on the floor, leaving a smear on the glass. He was, however, helpful just now on arrival at Maturin Airport, securing our seats with Rutaca Airlines, helping us with our rucksacks and actually smiling as he shook our hands. A gentle giant after all. During the drive we were treated to more Venezuelan radio. This time we had the Latin American version of ‘My Way’. It was in the Colombian style because as we all know now, it has accordion on it as opposed to drums (Brazil) or the harp (the Llanos).
14:36
In the departure lounge. Did I say that the driver had secured our seats? We have finally been issued with air boarding passes. As before, the travel vouchers were given blank faces and it took three of the staff the last forty minutes to sort them out with the travel company. I saw one holding a fax so maybe they were waiting for the confirmation. Airport tax was B1000 - about a quid. Departure is supposedly about 3pm. I can see the small plane on the tarmac. To be honest I’ll be glad when we get checked in at the Air2000 desk at Porlamar - we have proper tickets for that!
15:06
On the runway for takeoff. Not bad for Venezuelan timing. The plane seats 19 passengers. There are two pilots and only three passengers on board so they are not going to make a lot of profit on this trip, bearing in mind that the tickets showed a cost of about £25 each. While sitting on the tarmac, only one propeller was turning but I’m pleased to say that now we are several thousand feet up, both are now working. Once again, the same lady that gave us our boarding tickets led us to the aircraft and took them back off us. What was the point? Two men also walked alongside us carrying our luggage to load. It would have been easier just to let us take it on board. The plane is hardly overloaded.
15:28
We’ve already started our descent and been through the clouds. It’s a strange feeling when for a few minutes everything outside the windows is snow white. We are over the water heading for Margarita Island. The sea is calm and a beautiful blue-green. It’s so clear that I can see the sandy seabed in places.
15:36
A smooth touchdown. Exactly half an hour.
15:46
As we exited the plane, they could have opened the luggage compartment and given us our bags but that would have been too easy. The three passengers walked in to the terminal to the baggage reclaim area and waited. Meanwhile a van was driven 100 yards to the plane, loaded on three pieces of baggage, drove a few hundred yards out of sight to the terminal building and loaded the three items on to the conveyor belt. In a few minutes, as if by magic, our luggage cam through. Amazingly mine was the first piece off the belt. Ian is getting changed in to clean clothes while I prepare to stay smelly for another 24 hours. We will then find the check-in desk and some food.
16:25
Have just paid B2500 for a salami salad roll that was reminiscent of old British Rail snacks. I think the roll was carved from Mount Roraima. Ian and I are down to our last few Bolivars but cannot spend them on food until we know exactly how much we will need for departure tax. Problem is the information desk said the tax will be exactly US$23 but didn’t know how much it would be in local currency. This seems strange. She said it would probably be about B16000. We are allowing B20000. Unfortunately you can’t pay the tax at the tax desk until you have checked in and that won’t be until about 7pm. Whatever the amount it will be barely worth changing the remainder back to dollars again.
16:38
Ian has gone back to the domestic terminal in search of better food. We saw a delli’ there amongst others. I am not too confident of the quality. I may treat myself to a coke when he gets back.
18:42
Successfully navigated passport control and am now in the departure lounge. While waiting for Ian to return earlier from his walkabout (apparently he was watching the football), I was surrounded in the space of five minutes by half the population of Scandinavia. He was somewhat surprised when he returned. The counter was open for the flight so we checked in before any more of our fellow passengers arrived. It then meant that we did not have to queue to pay the B15510 tax for departure at the tax desk. This voucher has to be shown to be let through the barrier to departures. A Scandinavian couple in front of us hadn’t paid and had to go back to the tax desk. They would then have to return to the back of the long queue to get through the passport control. I have about B7500 left. Hardly worth changing.
19:23
I had bought my can of coke and paid my tax and been left with B6850. There is a souvenir shop and it was a matter of what was the least tackiest thing I could buy. Everything was priced in US dollars so I asked the vendor how many Dollars my Bolivars were worth. He used a calculator twice without success then suggested $8 then $9 then said to round it to $10. I managed to find a small hand-painted vase that didn’t say ‘Island of Margarita’ or ‘Venezuela’ or ‘made in China’ on it and bought it. No cash left.
20:49
I’m in my seat on the plane, though this had little to do with the airport efficiency. The Tv screen showed two flights - ours at 9pm and another at 8pm. Both showed as being ‘on time’ even though one should have left half an hour previously. I noticed by chance that a queue was forming to board the plane and we joined it. The electronic sign above the exit door showing the flight details was of course completely blank. Two planes were parked outside and in fact the queue was for both. Fortunately we boarded the correct plane. I hope no Norwegians end up confused in Manchester. Virtually all our fellow passengers had simply remained on the island during their stay on cheap package holidays. A lady who sat next to us in the departure lounge had spent her time windsurfing. She was fascinated by our trek and seemed surprised that people could actually travel to the mainland.
Thursday 15th March - Home
10:42
The first leg of the journey was fairly uneventful. No spilled food or drink, on me anyway. Although I didn’t have the leg room I had on the outward journey, I did have an aisle seat in the centre of the plane and an empty seat next to me. That was until the plane started to move and I was all comfortable. At this point I was asked if I would move to a spare seat in the middle of the row behind so that an older, portly gentleman, could take my seat and the empty seat next to it. I felt like saying something very rude but of course I politely agreed and was upset to find myself squeezed in to a row with less leg room and baggage room. Still it wasn’t too bad and preferable to the alternative of the large man squeezing in next to me in my original seat. I wasn’t able to sleep so I have now been awake for over 24 hours. We touched down at Manchester at 10:17 but then found we had no place to disembark the passengers. Manchester seems as organised as Venezuela. We eventually found a parking space at 10:34 and it has taken a while to disgorge the passengers not making the onward journey, including Ian.
10:52
The crew are now making their 3rd or 4th attempt to count what is left of the passengers. This would seem an easy process to me but must be far more complicated than I can appreciate as they each count different numbers from each other. It doesn’t help that despite specific, repeated requests for people to remain seated while they count, there are several wandering up and down and in and out of the loos. These sort of people frustrate me. I’m sure I’ll get home at some point. I just hope that my luggage is with me and not at this moment lapping the conveyor belt in the Manchester terminal.
10:58
The lady next to me has moved to a vacant row to give us both more room. I have taken the opportunity to push all the seats in front of me forward and recline mine as far as possible. The new crew have taken over and they are now attempting another head count. I believe I still have just the one head but it doesn’t appear to be helping them.
11:05
Guess what? They’re counting again.
11:16
Hallelujah. We’re moving again.
11:42
I have been awake for well over 24 hours now but it seems like the journey home started this morning. It seems strange that I started by river boat, transferred to airboat, then to 4x4 car then light aircraft and finally a two stage section by jet aircraft. We have now been advised that we are about to land already. Great.
13:13
My rucksack, I’m pleased to say, did indeed accompany me to Gatwick. Baggage reclaim was fairly fast and straightforward as usual. Used virtually all my Sterling to get a train ticket and am now speeding towards London. I should be at mums well before she gets home from work. She’ll either find me in the bath or asleep in bed. I’m very tired. Not the same exhaustion as on the Gran Sabana trail but just a weary, resigned tired. My eyes are heavy and I want to be back home now. I hope everybody has been okay.
14:07
I have transferred to the Luton train and will be in Borehamwood soon for the final walking leg of the journey. I am extremely tired. A Spanish man has just showed off the entire musical repertoire of the answer tones of his mobile phone to his partner. I think I will kill him.
14:52
I’m home! As I stepped off the train, I was met with cold air and a drizzle of rain but this was hardly enough to deter a seasoned trekker like me. Putting the rucksack back on seemed to renew my vigour and I strode purposefully up the hill to my mums house. I say ‘hill’. I used to call it a hill. To me now it is the flattest piece of land I have seen in two weeks. I used to look up the long main road and think of the distance. It seemed to take just a few minutes and was effortless. Must be the Roraima effect. Time now for that bath.
At the heart of the eight compelling nonfiction stories and five-article appendix which make up Dreams of the Immortal City Savannah is this interesting question: What would your life mean if you were living someone else's dream of what it should be?
