Zelma’s Trip

When I woke up on the Saturday the World had, unfortunately, not worked my life out for me or, at very least, my plans in Venezuela and how to best travel around and get out of Caracas.  It became obvious very early on that people do not really stay in Caracas on their travels.  A lot of people tell you to get out of there as soon as you can, as do some gudebooks.  Many recommend bypassing Caracas altogether by, for example, staying closer to the coast rather than heading into the city.

I got up and went for a wander now that it was relatively safe to do so in daylight.  To be fair I was actually pleasantly surprised by the areas close to the hostel.  The large main road was pedestrianised a lot of the time and full of restaurants, street performers and even children´s games and face painting.  After pottering around the area and having lunch I went to an internet cafe closer to the hostel where I tried to figure out the best plan.  After a little while it began to feel like the whole World was conspiring against me and that someone, somewhere wanted me to stay in Caracas indefinitely.  One of the problems is that I needed to get my yellow fever vaccine.  Yes, I know this is something I should have got done in England but when I went to the Doctor´s to get my various jabs I had the others and then didn´t have the cash on my to pay for the yellow fever one.  I thought it was odd that they wouldn´t take any payment other than cash or trust me to come back and pay, even when I said I´d leave my passport as security.  It was beyond me why someone would get a yellow fever vaccination for the hell of it and not leave England, but they assured me that my passport was not sufficient and that it was “policy”.  The first place with a risk that I have travelled to is Venezuela and notably the areas of the rainforest around Angel Falls.  For a while I considered risking it and then I read several things online which suggested if I contracted the disease I had quite a high chance of dying so I decided it possibly wasn´t the best idea in the World.  The other added dimension is that I had planned to visit Trinidad where you apparently need evidence that you´ve been vaccinated.  So, this added to the problem.  Oh, and the vaccine also only apparently becomes effective ten days after you have it also.  Then I spent some time planning my route and figured that the best way to get around and see a lot of the places I wanted to was by car.  This is a particularly effective way to travel in Venezuela due to their petrol prices with it costing less than a dollar to fill an entire tank!  Then when I looked into car rental the rental websites were either in Spanish or rubbish.  The last one I looked at only let you put rentals in for 2068 and then told you there were none available, surprise surprise.  Of course when I was trying to formulate plans it was also Saturday so nothing was open in terms of tour places, clinics and hire companies.  

So, after realising that I was destined to spend the rest of my days in Caracas I headed back to the hostel and felt sorry for myself.  Grrrrr, if the A key comes out of this keyboard once more when I use it the whole keyboard is going out the door I swear.  I thought it was bad enough that the shift key works sporadically and then sticks down but Oooooh Nooo!  So back at the hostel I was lying in my bed when there was an almighty bang.  Now in Caracas there are loud noises all the time, including lots of bangs, but this was something else.  It went straight through me and echoed around the building.  Then, when I was wondering if I had somehow imagined it there were two more in quick succession.  I was really shaken and decided to go out to the terrace to see if anyone else was about for some kind of reassurance.  Once out there Reynold arrived and offered me a Venezuelan beer which was surprisingly nice.  No-one was able to explain the bangs or dispel my fears that they were infact gunshot.  Reynold also helped by telling me about hs encounters with the Police.  He had been exploring the city and was stopped twice within the space of an hour.  Apparently it was not sufficient for the Police that he had a photocopy of his passport with him and he was threatened with deportation for not having the correct documentation.  Shortly after hearing this, two worried looking German guys arrived on the terrace with a greater tale of woe.  They had also been stopped by the Police with one of them having their passport on them and the other not.  They were interrogated strongly, accused of dealing, then taken to the Police station where they were strip searched, convinced that they were going to have drugs planted on them and then released hours later having had to pay for the privilige.  Caracas was growing on me like a distinctly unattractive tumour! 

So, as I got further reassured about my personal safety I chatted to Reynold and we decided that, as it was a Saturday, it was only right that we go out.  He found a place in the guidebook which was basically several bars and clubs at a shopping mall complex and we asked one of the guys who worked at the hostel to get a taxi for us.  Now what we expected here was for him to use a driver or perhaps even call a taxi.  What we didn´t expect was for him to wander up the road trying to hail any old taxi which, in all fairness, we were quite capable of doing ourselves.  Once in the taxi we headed the opposite way out of the street to where I had been and I hoped that we wouldn´t have to stop as we went through really freaky areas with no street lighting.  Other than being stuck behind a random van in a thin street for a while the journey was fine.  We got to the centre and I discovered that, despite letting me have money at the airport, my cash card didn´t work.  Fortunately Reynold had cash on him and I found out relatively early on that I was still able to swipe my card at bars!  After a while at one bar we went for a wander and headed into a more club like bar.  One of the reasons we left the first bar was that I was getting decidedly sick of the music.  In Venezuela Reggaeton is huge; it´s a form of music merging hip-hop with a hybrid of reggae, dancehall and traditional Latin beats.  It sounds quite cool and some of it really was and is.  The problem is that there does not seem to be much discernment going on about what is good Reggaeton and what is pants reggaeton with everyone just getting very excited at reggaeton per se.  Anyway I wasn´t excited so we went to another bar which, shortly after we arrived, quickly reverted to reggaeton tunes.  We headed to a third, slightly underground looking place and Reynold commented that he didn´t think this was the kind of place which would play reggaeton.  I told him not to speak so soon and, needless to say, the reggaeton arrived.  The place was quite funky though and we danced until dawn.  Another added bonus about the final place was that I didn´t pay for a single drink.  No, I wasn´t blagging all night.  Basically they kept your card and then you had to sort of go and line up to pay.  The thing is, when I went up and they gave me my card to pay a great tune came on so I went to dance gesturing to them that I would come back and pay when I could tear myself from the dancefloor.  Then, when I went to pay later they said I didn´t owe anything.  Then, do you know what???  The same thing happened every time I tried to pay!  Damn those pesky tunes!  Seriously I wasn´t being purposefully evasive, I even tried to settle my tab when I left but no-one seemed very interested. 

We left the club when the cleaners came in and walked out into bright sunshine.  That´s always a very odd feeling, a little like when you come out of the cinema and it´s dark, very disorientating, although in all fairness you don´t normally spend quite so long in the cinema or drink in there, well not vodka tonics anyway.  Well not in my cinema!  So, we got a taxi, headed back and went to sleep.

Following the previous night, or rather morning, Sunday turned into a very lazy day.  I ventured out to get food and in the evening Reynold and I had a few drinks at a bar near the hostel which was okay but appeared slightly seedy.  I also spent a lot of the day looking at my guidebook without really taking much in or figuring out how to get out of the capital.

On the Monday I did little to further my plans for some time.  Every time I figured out a route it turned out not to be possible.  The guys in my hostel had given me convoluted descriptions, in Spanish, about how to get to the clinic but it didn´t really appeal.  Eventually I decided to head to the place I wanted to drive to originally called, “Las Trincheras”, a small place renowned for having the second hottest thermal waters in the World after Japan.  Reynold was also keen to see something of the country other than Caracas prior to his flight out on the Wednesday so we vowed to have an early night and leave the following morning.

For my last night in Caracas I was, how shall I put this,…..terrified!  It all finally started getting to me, I wound myself up and was seriously jumpy.  I can´t really explain the noise of Caracas to you until you´re there and hear it for yourself.  There is constant beeping and car alarms but then also all these bangs, unlike anywhere I have heard.  On top of this was the constant noise of the crazy people screaming, singing and shouting in the street below.  I managed to freak out, convince myself that I would be woken by someone with a gun to my face and, as a consequence slept very badly.  It´s sad to say this but I actually slept with the light on all night.  I can´t remember doing that since I was a kid, and even then I think it was a ladybird nightlight and not the full on light!