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We head from Coro down the highway to Maracaibo, a huge city in NorthWest Venezuela, which is built across a stretch of water connecting the Gulf of Venezuela and Lake Maracaibo.

Our visit to Maracaibo is merely an overnight stop before exiting to Colombia.

We have heard reports from others though, that you can do a (rather expensive) visit to the SouthWest side of Lake Maracaibo and witness one of the most amazing natural phenomena, namely endless lightning storms seemingly into the lake, though not associated with any rain storm. Look it up on the web and you’ll see some amazing pictures.

Sadly this, and a visit to the famous mountain-town of Merida, with its endless supply of ice cream flavours, is out of our reach this time.

At Maracaibo we manage to navigate our way reasonably easily to Hotel Paraiso Suites (350BF/double, #N82b-70 Av. 9B, Las Veritas). This has very nice, spacious rooms with refrigerator and sofas etc. (and a water cooler in the reception.) They also have secure parking and are only a few blocks from the Plaza de la Republica.

Around the plaza is quite a nice place at night. Large buildings and monuments, colourfully lit. A lot of young couples hang out there too. And there are several classy bars and restaurants nearby. For those on a budget, just look for the Arabic food or fast food places. Sadly though we must report that the Arabic food at the place on the plaza was not really very good.

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From Puerto Colombia the way takes us back through Maracay, then Valencia and then North past Morrocoy National Park to the old colonial town of Coro.

This route leads deeper into the heart of Venezuelan petroleum production. Around Valencia there is plenty of petroleum / gas industry so we pass some massive factories on the way.

We opt not to stay in the popular tourist destination of Chichirivichi because from our vantage point it looks like a bit of a hole.

The clutch cable snaps just as we enter the town of Coro. This amateur has some trouble getting it installed, but lucky for him he broke down conveniently in front of a mechanical shop and a couple of the guys from inside assist. (Of course we do give them a tip though it was not expected.)

We have to ride around the streets of Coro for a long while before we finally get to our destination – the street signs and layout are somewhat incongruous. But eventually we find our haven…

Turkish coffee in the morning…

It’s the most excellent La Casa del Mono (200BF/dbl & shared bath / 250BF/dbl & private bath; https://www.facebook.com/pages/La-Casa-del-Mono/197705220304572). This place not only has excellent accommodation, parking and other facilities, but it’s a place of heavenly tranquillity and beauty. The courtyard is filled with beautiful plants and trees to give shade from the intense sunshine while you lay back and relax in one of the hammocks and do absolutely nothing.

Adriana, the lady who owns the place, is an awesome lady and we get on like a house on fire.

Finally Adriana has someone to test the new BBQ her father built here…

Another group of guests we meet are a French-American couple and a Colombian lady by the name of Gloria. The Frenchman, Jonathan seems to have memorized a number of books and is an overflow of information. But he has some interesting things to say. He tells us about this place they’ve been staying at, out in the jungle in Colombia. Beautiful, tranquil, idyllic, we should really come by there he says. Then we meet Gloria – she owns the place he talked about. A farm or “finka” in Quebrada Valencia, a valley off the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta. We are invited to come and visit. We can do some helping out around the place in return for free stay. They leave the next day. Maybe we’ll see you there.

Ebru goes with another couple of lovely girls staying at the hostel, one from Italy and one from France, to visit the beaches and the peninsula north of Coro, which through some special natural causes is completely desert. They all said it was very beautiful. It sounds interesting, but I am too emphatuated with doing nothing (except reading) here in this beautiful hostel, so I stay behind for a change. Besides, I think at times, I am getting a bit tired of moving around.

We spend a wonderful few days at Casa del Mono, getting to know the lovely Adriana and her recently arrived friend and business partner from Slovenia, Morana. They tour guide foreign tourists through various destinations in Venezuela and Colombia, including Cartagena and Ciudad Perdida (the lost city), but they do it in a proper travellers style!

We make another friend at Casa del Mono. One morning we make up to a retching sound coming from somewhere close by – we cannot identify it, but it’s something between a small baby’s screams and a terrible cough. We trace the sound back to right below our bed – from a tiny little kitten. Adriana saved this little one from a couple of dogs somewhere in the street and brought it home, and here it is under our bed, lonely and terrified. We take care of it and by the time we move on it’s actually quite happy in its new home. However we cannot say the same for Mussolini, the other cat who lives here.

Frequently seen signs at Venezuelan shop entrances…

We still have to plant a tree in Venezuela, and Adriana is quite pleased with the idea of us planting a tree in the back yard of the Casa del Mono. Perfect! So, here we complete Mission 21 of our Planting Around the World challenge.

If you visit Venezuela, Coro and the Casa del Mono is definitely one place you MUST visit! You will not regret it!

Adriana, thank you again for welcoming us into your hostel with such kindness and generosity! We will never forget you, come and visit us!!

Our 21st tree has been planted in the most tranquil place Venezuela could possibly offer, namely within the confines of the exquisite Casa del Mono hostel, in the lovely colonial town of Coro, also a jewel of this country.

Our timing was all a bit screwed up in organizing this, so we ended up doing the mission at night.

All this digging has made the dogs suspicious…

Thanks to the lovely owner Adriana for liking trees and allowing us to plant one in her yard. Venezuela is a rather hectic environment and finding, as well as planting a tree anywhere else would have been a bit tense.

PS: this tree will replace the big one in the background which had to come down…

May it grow big and offer you good shade from the scorching sun up there on the Caribbean coast.

GROW LITTLE ONE, GROW!!!

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From Mochima it’s a loooooong ride to Puerto Colombia. It’s about 550Km in fact, but on Northern Venezuelan highways and coastal roads that is a very long distance. The whole ride takes us nearly twelve hours!

There are some very beautiful bits on the way, but all in all it’s mostly highway, crossing through some cities along the way. We do a Southward loop to avoid entering Caracas, which is currently supposed to be the crime capital of the world. You need to watch out for potholes along the way and there’s a pretty bad section of mountain road between Santa Teresa and Charallave.

Life savers – these ladies pump tired drivers up with excellent Venezuelan coffee!

By the time we get to somewhere around Charallave I’m already tired and considering spending the night somewhere else – not a comfortable prospect. But then we encounter a bunch of sweet ladies selling coffee at the road side. We rest for a while there and their brew has what it takes to put me back in shape to continue. Thanks coffee ladies!

By the time we are heading North out of Maracay the sun is about to set. That means that we do the mountain crossing through Henry Pitter National Park, over to the coastal Puerto Colombia in the dark.

This crossing is one to write home about: it’s steep, twisty and in the dark, a pretty nerve-testing experience. However it does offer some beautiful night-time views of Maracay city. The descent on the other side is lush and green.

Puerto Colombia is a pretty little village at the sea. But there’s not much there to speak about. At least not while we’re there. The village is very quaint and colourful, and there seems to be work going on to restore more of the old colonial style houses. But the place is almost empty during this time so it’s like a ghost town. Most the food stalls which would normally be open are closed.

Much work going on restoring the colonial houses here, so it will definitely look very beautiful soon…

There’s a plaza facing the sea with some historical significance. And there are evidently a lot of boat rides available to visit other beaches and sites in the national park.

We visit one of the near-by beaches on foot. It’s beautiful. But no atmosphere here either. – Maybe that Venezuelan paranoia.

We stay in Posada Alfonso (150BF/dbl). It’s got parking and the rooms are ok.

Apparently there are many more places to visit in the national park by way of trekking and boat trips. But we opt for leaving and riding our motorbike back over the hill in the daylight. It’s a good ride!

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Leaving Puerto Ordaz for the second time, our initial intention is to head back via El Tigre and Puerto La Cruz to the village of Mochima, where we already know of accommodation options. However we reach Puerto La Cruz fairly early in the afternoon, so we go straight back to the ferry terminal to see whether there’s a boat we can catch to Isla Margarita the same afternoon.

(Note: After leaving Puerto Ordaz there is no fuel until El Tigre – about 220Km – so make sure you fill up before leaving.)

We meet a Brazilian couple there on a BMW GS1200. He’s interested in doing the BR319 – his wife less so – on his way back South… definitely NOT the right time! I don’t want to discourage anyone who feels called to this adventure, but a 1200GS, two-up… ouch! With the slightest bit of rain…. you’re in for a serious nightmare!

Things work out conveniently and we book ourselves on to the 18:00 Conferry Express boat which will supposedly get us across in 3 hours. The cost is approximately 125VEF per person and 155VEF for the motorbike. We also need to provide a photocopy of the motorbike registration paper. (Copier service available in the terminal.)

Note:
– For more information we found out about the Puerto La Cruz to Isla Margarita ferries, read this post.
– It may be handy to have a ratchet strap or rope with you for securing your bike on the ferry.

Well I am no seaman, but I dare say that there were no stormy seas this night, but the ferry arrives at the port of Punta de Piedras of Isla Margarita at 23:00 – that means the journey took us about 5 hours!

Thus it seems that there is no benefit to paying the premium on an afternoon “Express” ferry, almost double the price of the “Tradicional”, because even the Express journey takes 5 hours, which is the same stated time for the Tradicional. (Unless of course the Tradicional in reality takes much longer than that.)

However, the Tradiconal ferries leave at less hospitable hours like 2AM, which could be a problem for some. On the other hand, if you consider you’ll save a night’s accommodation and not arrive in the middle of the night and drive around Isla Margarita to find your hotel (which could be dangerous), this may be a preferable option.

Either way if you opt for an Express service, probably best to take a morning departure.

We spend over an hour driving the streets of Isla Margarita before we finally land in the town of Juan Griego, where we intend to check in at Hostal El Caney (Calle Guevara #17, 250VEF/dbl; Tel:530359). Luckily we have the phone number in the Lonely Planet so we call them up to let them know we’re trying to find them at this late hour.

The hostel is quite nice and well situated. The Canadian couple that runs it is friendly and helpful. It’s got a small kitchen and a smaller bike can park in the courtyard without issue. Oh and they have a huge black cat to guard the bike at night. We chose the area of Juan Griego because it seems to be less main-stream and therefore a bit calmer. We chose well, it even has a braai, which we give a thorough using!

Over the next few days we explore the various beaches accessible along the northern coast from Juan Griego. They’re all pretty nice, some more built up and popular, others more bamboo-shack style, but beer and cocktails are available everywhere (should have left that motorbike at the hostel;)). But to us we’re not getting a great amount of enjoyment. Maybe there’s a lack of atmosphere or maybe the constant safety paranoia in Venezuela has got to us.

There’s a lady and her son staying here from a city on the mainland. She’s looking to move to the island, she says, because she’s worried for their safety because of the crime. Anyone visiting Venezuela at this time will be aware to some degree of the risk and of Venezuela’s current status as “Crime Capital” of the world. (They stole it from South Africa… Should I be jealous?) Those few people we did meet travelling through had either a very quick and direct route in one end and out the other. On biker blogs I’ve read people, plan to cross in under a week, no hanging around for the scenery. (As with South Africa,) it’s a shame!

I try my hand at fishing in a few spots and obviously I don’t catch anything, which is as always a grave disappointment. Once again I consider acknowledging the statistics and giving it up.

O.C.D. …

In the town of Juan Griego there are many restaurants and shops, and a sort of market place in the centre where you can find most of your fresh produce at the best prices, as well as some more eccentric things like aromatic oils and various witches’ remedies for those who know what to do with them. Just up the street from El Caney is a fantastic bakery / delicatessen.

Maybe something like this?…

During the time we’re there many things are in shortage, especially the staple food, Arepa (Maize flour used to make bread patties). We witness a number of incidents where irate crowds were standing in front of supermarket entrances, apparently waiting for new stock to arrive or be released. No arepa, no Venezuela.

One day trip we take Falconita for a spin to the west side of the island. It’s a deserted place and it’s mostly dry desert. We’re not overly impressed but we get some nice views and enjoy a drink at a small sea-front restaurant in one of the small villages.

Emotional moment: time to part with my flops (stitched and re-stitched) which lasted since Laos!

All in all, for us Isla Margaita was not the Caribbean island-paradise some people described it as, but is was a nice experience.

Back at the port town of Punta de Piedras we buy our ferry tickets to return to the mainland. However we choose not to return to Puerto La Cruz, but the shorter trip to Cumana. These cost us 180VEF per person and 109VEF for the motorbike. The journey time of 3 hours is more or less accurate.

Cumana is close to Mochima so we head there for an easy night stop. As we drive into the town we recognize two people walking on the road side – they’re Max and Erica whom we journeyed with from Brazil. They’re going to head to Isla Margarita soon as well.

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Since the holidays are over (for Venezuelans) we decide to make a dash back to Puerto Ordaz to try and find some laptop screen replacements which we have been searching for over two months!

Since our only significant expense in Venezuela is time – costs of food and accommodation being much diminished by the favourable USD-VEF black market rate, and fuel cost not even worth a mention – and time we have plenty of, the 900 Kilometre round-trip detour is not an obstacle for us. (Maintaining that the bike doesn’t fail on us – did I mention it’s chewing through about 100ml of oil per 100Km?)

Within one day we ride from Mochima, via Puerto La Cruz and El Tigre to Puerto Ordaz and once again check in at Casa del Lobo (150BF/dbl; #2 Calle Zambia, Manzana 39, Los Olivos District). The route is mostly good asphalt, a long flat highway that runs through the heart of petroleum country, and then through a lovely stretch of pine forest, before reaching Ciudad Guayana.

Our mission ends in failure once again. Out laptop screens are nowhere to be found. We’re really getting fed up with this. Oh well at least the fuel is cheap…

And so the Iceberg floats on.

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Mochima is a little coastal town on the Caribbean, facing a number of little islands, beautiful to visit. We ride there from our beach camp at Playa Pui Pui, through cacao plantations, along a jagged coast line with lots of curves and slopes and splendid CastAway beach views!

I don’t have to mention the fact that Venezuela is littered with old American cars, with huge petrol guzzling engines…

Again I have to remind riders that riding in the North of Venezuela requires a special degree of caution because lurking around corners are invisible speed bumps, potholes and worse still, nasty crevasses on the road edges which could swallow up a bike whole, and unfortunately these are rarely marked with more than a token ribbon.

…”In the shadows of the trees the danger lurks.”

Somewhere around Cumana we encounter road-side stalls selling what seems to be food, so we stop to check it out. Good thing we did, because these people are stocked up with fresh fruits of the sea, ready to crack open and serve up to us in a delicious seafood cocktail – Venezuela style! I must admit most of what goes into these cups looks like chopped up naughty bits, but they are very delicious (and apparently quite helpful to your own naughty bits).

The other highlight en route is a cacao museum, where not only can you view the roasting process and do on, there is also a little exposition about cacao in Venezuela, its uses, and most importantly of all, several different types of chocolate to taste and to buy….. PARADISE!

Picked up 3 bars of pure brown gold… Cacao!

To our frustration it turns out that the rest of (employed) Venezuela is here, too, on holiday. The place is so packed up that we have trouble finding a space in a vacant bedroom, let alone a parking space.

Unfortunately we also observe that the general attitude of many Venezuelans really stinks: as if lifting a finger (even to do their job) is just too much to ask. (Is this the down-side of socialist charity?) For example, one of the ladies, a guest house owner here in Mochima, says she has a vacant room, but it’s not clean at the moment. Well, can she get it ready for us? No, she doesn’t feel like it. – And this is not the only occasion we experience this specific scenario in Venezuela. We have similar experiences in various shops, where the attendants shift uncomfortably in their chairs upon your request for assistance, as if you’re disrupting their flow. – It seems no wonder that all the supermarkets are run by Chinese.

After hours of looking we do find a guest house (no name recorded, 200VEF/dbl) with room for us and I can park Falconita in the alleyway-entrance. There are many other guest houses here (most 200-300VEF/dbl) which have garages or will let you park your motorbike in the entrance, but at the moment they are all occupied.

The place is quite a racket day and night, people are drinking all the time and the music doesn’t end.

We take a tour boat out to an island where we’re able to do some snorkelling and sit in the sun. Down at the port there are boats available to various islands and beaches here in the Mochima National Park, each with one or another attraction (even scuba diving), but most people seem to go for the most popular white beach. I can’t remember the exact cost but there’s a table at the port office.

We ask specifically to go to a place which is good for snorkelling and we end up on a small beach with rocks forming the bay. It’s nice because not so many holiday makers have come and it’s less crowded. The snorkelling is ok – nothing amazing, but we do see some pretty little fish, some squid and even a passing ray.

The food situation is a bit dire for us as our guest house has no kitchen and there seems to be only street food (hot dogs), a style of empanadas (very good indeed but not always on sale) available, aside from a few more costly restaurants. (One day… but for now we have to remain cheap…)

We make one day trip over to Puerto La Cruz, about an hour down the road, in order to look for the replacement laptop screens we need, but unfortunately we have no luck here. We do however find a lot of Arabic restaurants so we treat ourselves to some middle eastern food!

We also take the opportunity to inquire about the ferry prices for Isla Margarita, which we may want to visit in the future.

Here is some information about ferries between Puerto La Cruz and Isla Margarita we gathered:
– There are two big terminals at the sea front, each of which cater for a number of ferry operators such as Navibus / Gran Calique.
– Rates vary slightly between most operators and more dramatically with some others, and depending on the speed of the ferry service i.e. generally called Express (fast) or Tradicional(slow).
– There are a number of departure times available from morning to afternoon and evening/night but these change from season to season so best inquire there.
– Lots of queuing in terminals for ticket booths and the information desk (half the time unattended) but if you check carefully you might find the rates table stuck on the wall or desk of the info counter which will save you the wait.

UPDATE:We experienced that the journey times are unreliable so would recommend just going for the cheapest option!

Ferry prices we were quoted were all around:
Express: 125VEF per person; 135VEF per motorcycle
Tradicional: 75VEF per person; 85VEF per motorcycle
Charges for motorbikes above 500cc were higher.

On the way back to Mochima we have to pay the first bribe on this trip. At a dodgy police checkpoint around 30Km from Mochima / 20Km from Pto. La Cruz, the first guy waves us on but his boss (I suppose) gestures frantically to hold us up, so we pull aside. He can not find any problems with our paperwork so his story then is that we cannot drive the remaining 25Km to Mochima because it’s after 5PM and motorcycles are not allowed to drive this route thereafter, because it is far too dangerous. This seems to count only for us today. And he doesn’t really know what to say about the fact that it’s be far more dangerous for us to return to Puerto La Cruz at this time of night and try and find a place to stay….

Anyway, in the end he incites that we pay him and his colleagues some money to buy some refreshments, and so he will turn a blind eye to the matter and let us pass. Reluctantly we pay a bribe of about 30 Bolivares but it gets us back on the road. Bastards!

So, motorbike travellers, note that stopping at the police control post around 30Km from Mochima / 20Km from Puerto. La Cruz is best avoided! I should have continued riding and pretended not to see them in my rear – it all went pear shaped when the other guy saw my foreign number plate.

However I have to state that, despite the horrible stories we’d heard from various other (bus) travellers about police and military checkpoints, we had not had any problems at all until now, from the Gran Sabana all the way to here. Most folks were friendly, and at the most checked our documents.

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After our rather hasty departure from our little adventure in paradise, we head to Guiria town. In Guiria we check in a nice little guest house about two blocks away from the plaza, which is very clean and well run. The town looks dodgy and we were a bit anxious about having to stay there, but it turns out better than we expect. Eating out at the street food market is not bad at all and though we get a lot of looks, we don’t feel threatened by anyone.

A friendly Guria’an and Trinidad’ian, English-speaking, offering us directions on the outskirts of Guiria somewhere…

In fact I remember that when Max and I came into town from our beach paradise to look for food, though bot much was available, people were generally helpful: a young lady in a chicken restaurant sold us a frozen Chicken. We bought some things at a Chinese supermarket but their only head of cabbage was not for sale – but later the owner gave us half of it at no charge, as a friendship gift. He must have been pleased to have some outsiders come and visit for a change, and I suppose the few words of Chinese I managed with the staff for “hello” and “thank you” came as a curiosity to them. The Chinese – they seem such a closed and impenetrable folk the world around, but behind it all it seems to me they’re a good bunch. (I think I mentioned already that Chinese shops/supermarkets in Venezuela can often be a good option to inquire about currency exchange…)

There is a very cool bakery in the centre where it seems EVERYONE goes to get their bread, and I strongly recommend the experience. The place gets packed out with people, yelling their orders and waving their cash in the air as the attendants frantically grab and bag the good French loaf that flows endlessly from the bakery-kitchen behind. They have fantastic coffee too! (And the latter seems to be a definite recurring theme in Venezuela which we’re delighted about!)

We’re heading west again and we don’t know of many good options for us to settle for the night, so we make for Playa Medina, right near the Playa Pui Pui. Max and Erica have decided to stay in Guiria a bit longer. Playa Medina, though beautiful, turns out not to allow camping and the bungalows they rent there are crazy-expensive. We’re talking over 1000VEF!

We head over to Playa Pui Pui instead and pitch camp there. But this time it’s a completely different place than before . The place is nearly deserted. All the holiday campers have left and gone home. The beach is cleaner, the camp site too, it’s actually very pleasant and we soak it up.

We spend a couple of days living like beach bums, cooking over a bonfire, drinking coconut water, fishing and enjoying the sea.

There’s a slight interruption to all the tranquility when a big 4×4 full of drunken folk rock up at about midnight and decide that of all the clear and empty space on this huge camp ground, the most optimal place for them to set up camp is right in between us and the family across from us. They fire up their monstrous stereo system and the noise doesn’t abate until the wee hours. Lying in the tent I was trying to think out a covert mission plan to sneak into their camp and piss into their generator. – Idiots.

Looking back at the photos of the place, I must say Venezuela has some of the most Idyllic beach settings in the world… with a little less paranoia about personal safety it would surely be one the the top destinations in the world.

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Our next destination is the Paria Peninsula. This narrow peninsula that sticks out eastward into the Caribbean, creating the top side of the Gulf of Paria, opposite the island of Trinidad. Most of the peninsula, the North side, is all national park, so we are hoping to follow one of the small country roads marked on our map and find a Caribbean beach paradise – wild, beautiful, and untrampled by mass tourism (not that we can speak of “mass” tourism in Venezuela anyway)…. Little do we know we’re on the right track! Well sort of…

Erica and Max have a GPS which registers the route and they take the lead. We drive for hours through lush, tropical, Caribbean jungle landscape, where plantains and bananas hide between lush avocado tress. Local people lay out carpets of cacao seeds on the road-side – the only surface flat and open enough to sunshine for them to dry out.

Somewhere along the road, about noon, we do a rest stop at some road-side bar. It’s packed with customers, having their lunch time drink I suppose. Not a rare sight in Venezuela. Well they have coffee too, for us responsible motor-bikers I take it. This time with a hint of cinnamon flavour – really nice. Again I must compliment the coffee culture here.

For our lunch we stop at a delicatessen on the Guiria outskirts. We get some bread, cheese and salami. I see he has a mother ship of Italian Parma Ham in his fridge as well. “How much?”

The price he quotes me is something lower than even the “Italian” salami we just ordered – I think I’m going to enjoy this. However a moment later when I want to order some he discusses with his colleagues and it turns out it’s not for sale – the boss is not here and they don’t know the price. So close…

Guria is a smallish and at first dodgy looking town on the gulf coast. People have told us that it’s dangerous there, but of course people tell us the same thing about all cities and towns in Venezuela. Max punches the destination into the GPS and we follow the coast line along the peninsula. Let’s go find our beach in the national park!

The first impressions along the coast line are a disappointment. We stop to eat our lunch at a little bay, the coast line overgrown by shrubbery or mangroves. We notice a young couple frolicking under the shade of a tree, a ton of plastic drink bottles and oil containers floating at the water’s edge. What a romantic setting.

After lunch we follow the road, guided by the GPS.

It flows through a couple of little villages and over some rivers and cascades, kids and grown-ups splashing away. The road follows the coast line up and down steep hills. As we go on it becomes more remote, no more villages, only very occasional houses, and the road deteriorates more and more.

Until it abruptly ends, near the top of a very steep hill, nothing ahead but dense jungle. We manage to stop without having any accidents and – more amazingly – manage to turn the bikes around on the narrow, steeply sloping road, to go back.

Ebru intends to clear the way for us but cannot find the key…

Well that kind of ruins our plan. Now it’s getting late we’re loath to return to Guiria and find accommodation there. But what choice do we have? We’d like to camp, but where? We come by something like a farm plot, clearly private property, which is right at the sea.

Ebru and I go in via a small path to see whether the owner is there, but it’s deserted. We see there is another gate on the opposite road side so we enter there and find the place inhabited. The chap we speak to tells us that the owner of the plot it not around but he’s taking care of it in his absence, and he doesn’t mind us setting up camp there.

We pitch our tents by the abandoned little house at the pebble beach front. It’s a beautiful spot with coconut trees, goyaba (aka guava), lemons etc. A little paradise!

Our “hosts” (let’s call them Tom, the caretaker, and is friend Jerry) are very hospitable guys: Tom a skinny and timid-looking chap, quiet and slightly servile in his manner. And Jerry probably in in his fifties, tall, a trim grey seaman’s beard, built like a brick shit-house, and air as if he didn’t have a worry in the world (This was probably because he was over on this side of the mountain for a holiday from his cacao plantation on the other side). They lent us kerosene torches and let us fill up water from their spring.

Tom escorts me later to the town for getting some drink and groceries. He’s on the back of the bike with me. Going through the villages, again, I get very dodgy looks from people. Unnerving.

And so it proceeds that we spend a few days here in this little secluded farm. We lounge by the bonfire – which burns throughout our stay, swim in the sea, do some fishing (unsuccessfully), drink coconuts and eat fresh fruits. A surreal setting, reminiscent of the film “The Beach”. Tom and Jerry come around every now and again to check on us. They’re nice guys.

The water here is great for swimming and so full of phosphorus that at night, in the pitch dark, you can see the waves glow up as they break. I did not take notice of this at first. However when I left the bonfire to take a leak, I noticed with excitement that where my carefully aimed stream was hitting the sea water, there appeared a luminous green fog!

One day Max & i ride to Guiria for more supplies. Again the discomforting looks from the villagers…. I wonder what their problem is? We bring back a bottle of rum for Tom and Jerry. A guy fishing from the beach sees us and comes over to talk. He’s caught a ray and gives us the meat to eat. He warns us sternly that this isn’t a safe place for us: The area is known for drugs- and arms trafficking and we would not want to be here if a boat happened to land here in the middle of the night on an errand. Hmmm… some things you’d rather NOT know!

This possibly explains the vibes we were getting from the villagers – maybe they think we’re here for business? And what about the slightly incredulous looks coming from the pilots of the little motor boats passing by on the sea.

Later another two fishermen have walked by on the beach and seen us. They show up again the next morning, while our two “hosts” are around, this time drunk as skunks from the rum we bought them

A conversation ensues (between the two fishermen and our new friends) which I don’t understand. Next thing we know, one of the fisherman launches to his feet, his long machete in hand (everybody carries a machete around here), shouting and cursing and he starts swinging the blade at Jerry, stopping only a hair-breadth from his neck! And Jerry… just stands there, a nonchalant smile on his face, his bulging arms folded, and he’s challenging the guy to go ahead.

We of course can’t believe what’s going on. The other guys eventually get machete man to lower his weapon and move on, but he’s still very pissed off and threatening. And Jerry is really enjoying this, looks around on the floor for a suitable object to smash the man with – oh look, that long burning log will do – but he changes his mind and puts it down again.

Incredibly heavy wood – felled with hours of muscle-work and a Swiss Army Knife…

As the grumpy fisherman and his accomplice pace off on the path between the coconut trees, Tom and Jerry follow along and there’s another scuffle which Ebru witnesses. Machete man swings his chopper at Jerry again, this time actually landing it on his huge upper arm, but no damage inflicted. Jerry again gleefully hoping for the guy to wage the death blow – at which point I anticipate he’ll react and probably knock the guy out of his gum boots.

What a spectacle! It hasn’t made us feel any safer, though, and we debate leaving on the spot, but decide to give it a bit more thought. Tom and Jerry visit us every few hours, checking that we’re ok. “He’s a thief,” Jerry explains, “and I told him so. He takes coconuts from this property and they do not belong to him. … I’m not afraid of that wimp, I’ll punch his head off.,” he affirms, matter-of-factly. “I’m not scared of death…,” he points to a few bullet wounds he sustained in the past. {gulp}

Later another couple of other folks stroll by curiously. Our “cover” is blown and though we’re really loving this place, now we’re getting too much attention. We seriously contemplate leaving. The coffin is sealed when, sunning ourselves on the beach that afternoon, a fat rattle snake slithers by us. It seems like an omen, advising us to leave. We pack our shit, say our goodbyes and go.

The ride to Guiria is brimming with feelings – some of relief, but more of lament. Such a beautiful place. Such a gratifying lifestyle. Such a decent bunch of guys (not the fishermen obviously).

And the knowledge that we will never return – even if we could. Somewhat like the character Richard in “The Beach”, as he is leaving island behind. The adventure has been extraordinary indeed.

TRIP INFO BOX

From Caripe we follow a the asphalt trail to the beach paradise of Playa PuiPui.

The road is mostly good, but as anywhere along coastal Venezuela, you need to take great care riding your motorbike here! There are potholes and obstacles – especially hardly visible speed bumps – along the way, but most dangerous of all, in some places there are sections of the road edges that have fallen away and formed deep pits. These appear often without any warning! Do not drive close to the edge of the road!!!

The ride takes us through beautiful tropical hills and turns a bit wet later on, but there’s some fresh strawberries and cream available on the way to brighten up the mood.

Unfortunately the evening we arrive at PuiPui, the place is packed with xmas holiday makers. Every man and his dog seems to be here; oh and their women also. All campers with big 4x4s and more than most with large stereo systems blaring out loud music while the owners get drunk on beer and spirits.

The beach itself is gorgeous, but this is not the right time to be here.

We do inquire at the little village at the end of the beach about accommodation, but it’s much more expensive than average (I mean from 300BF upward for two people) and it’s all fully booked. The bungalows on the other side of the beach start at 700BF for a double.

Propaganda on the way to PuiPui…

Thus we opt for a camping spot on the soft grass between the palm trees, and this is free. (Note: there are not any decent camping facilities here.) There are a couple of places at the village which sell beer and water. While we pitch our tents, a soldier appears from the night sporting a large assault rifle. We talk a bit and he seems ok; apparently here just to keep the place safe. It’s a bit reassuring to us, since we’re a bit nervous about camping up here at the Venezuelan coast for the first time… but then again, can we trust him?…

Well, the answer is he didn’t slaughter nor rob us during the night, so he was ok. But still we are not comfortable staying here with the place being so packed and all this racket going, so the next day we move on.