We made a decision to wage our luck and continue our journey across Venezuela in order to avoid flights and long boat rides that were necessary to enter Colombia through Brasil. To get through as quiclky as possible, we booked a direct 20-hour bus ride from St. Elena to Caracas and exchanged enough money, that would last us for about a week in the country (if we lived on a very tight budget). We also found a couchsurfer in Caracas with whom we could stay for a couple of days and so "the most dangerous city in the world" suddenly seemed a bit more inviting. The bus ride was nothing special despite of all the fears and doubts we had. Once again we were the only tourists on board, once again the air condition was set to freezing cold and once again the drivers were driving like crazy. The only difference were regular road blocks of guardia who mounted on the bus fully armed every 50 km and depending on their mood asked for documents or just took a look around. Caracas' athmosphere completely blew our mind... The city's legacy as "the" South American metropolis in the venezuelan golden times can be seen on every corner. Skyscrapers and office buildings occupy most of the downtown area and ground levels are packed with panaderias offering a wide variety of pastries and cakes that go well with a delicious cup of coffee prepared on extremely old espresso machines. All around, plenty of restaurants with local and foreign cousine are a result of people from all over the world immigrating into the country to search for prospect. There is even a huge mosque in the city centre (very rare for South America) implying the variety of cultures that live here. The city lies in a valley surrounded by mountains, but the fresh climate doesn't shut down the tropical vibe and so street-food vendors as well as lively markets full of vegetables, dairy products and meat can be found all around the city. We were confused and struggled to find famine and the lack of food that is all over the news about Venezuela these days. We did see a lack of variety in the supermarkets though, with some isles being empty and others full of a single product brand. However even with all the food available, as soon as dusk falls over the city's streets, plenty of beggars and homeless people are going through the trash to find some edible leftovers. The locals told us, that the pope recently suggested venezuelan people to separate food waste and leave it on the streets in marked bags - you can decide if such a measure is sensible or just prolongs the agony. And so we realised that the problem doesn't lie in the lack od food, but in the system that doesn't allow people to earn enough money while also failing to provide enough free food for the poor. Because even though the socialistic government is clearly not up to the challenge of dealing with the crisis, they do offer basic aliments at subsidised prices which are basically for free. There is clearly not enough of these products for everyone and long waiting lines form in front of bakeries and supermarkets as soon as the word comes out about a new shipment or when the smell of freshly baked bread fills the streets. Additionally, the people themselves worsen the situation by buying large quantities of subsidised products and selling them abroad in Colombia or Brazil to gain profit. The abundance of unsubsidised food we saw around is unfortunately not available for the working class because the prices have been sky-rocketing while the wages are staying more or less the same. To understand this controversy we need to adress the two markets that are functioning side by side in the country. The official rate for the venezuelan bolivar is controlled by the government, while the whole country basically functions on the black market exchange rate, that everyone checks on a daily basis with an app called Dollartoday. While the wages are staying at the same level, all the markets, restaurants, service providers and any other business owners that are not controled by the government adapt their prices according to the black market exchange rate. This basically means, that an average monthly payment that is already low (the minimum is worth around 5$) looses value on a weekly basis due to the high inflation. Our stack of money that we exchanged at the border was loosing value as well and we could't just go to the ATM and get some cash. There are two reasons for that. First, there is no cash in the center of the country because it is all in the border areas being sold at the black market rates. Even for the smallest amounts like 0,10$ for a loaf of bread, people are paying with their bank account cards creating one of the reasons for the long waiting lines everywhere. Even when there is cash available at ATMs, people are waiting for hours to withdraw a limited daily amount of 10.000 bolivares - at that time worth around 0,05$. And second, the international bank tranfers are all regulated by the official government exchange rate meaning that our cards would be completely emptied even if we would withdraw money just for a meal and a cup of coffee. Luckily, we were in a good company. Our couchsurfer Rodolfo helped us out by paying with his local card and we returned him the money in euros. We stayed with him for a couple of days while exploring the city and its sights. After a week it was almost time for us to continue towards Colombia and leave the country, but then along came Emmanuel, another couchsurfer we contacted and who insisted we need to stay at his place in order to show us around Venezuela. Emma is the sole reason why we could stay in the country for more than two months and see some magnificent sights Venezuela has to offer. From the first day we have met, he gave us his local bank account card which meant we could finally start blending in and enjoying the country without being scared of running out of money. On one of the weekdays after his work, we camped for a night at Piedra del Indio, a magical place in the middle of Avila national park that offers stunning views over the city of Caracas. Only from above, the shear size of the city is visible. The buildings extend along the whole valley in which Caracas is packed and the barrios (spanish for favelas) are climbing up on every hill that sits in the way. The far eastern part of Caracas is home to the biggest and dangerous barrio in South America which even "outshines" the famous ones in Rio. We were so impressed by the national park we also climbed up Pico Naiguata, the highest peak in this mountain range from where the Caribbean sea can be seen 2800 meter below on one side and the Caracas valley 1800 meters on the other. And we were soon to see the venezuelan Caribbean up close since Emma organised a weekend trip to the coast with his friends and oce again included us in his plans.
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The tiny village of Pacaraima at La Linea (border between Brazil and Venezuela) probably hasn't seen that many people in years. Due to the economic situation in Venezuela the people are fleeing the country in high numbers and while most decide to exit into Colombia, there is a big wave of migrants at the brasilian border as well. We approched the security guard that was organising the long waiting lines for the customs office and somehow convinced him that we really don't need to wait for 8 hours just to leave the country. He made an exception although we weren't Brazilian citizens and the customs officer stamped our passports while decently speaking english with us. His comment that we are "making a leap of faith" travelling to Venezuela as backpackers was not calming at all and so we carefully walked the several hundred meters between the border checkpoints. Well, sort of... on the way we also exchanged some Brasilian reals for Venezuelan bolivares on the street and instantly became millionaires :) The situation with Venezuelan currency (Venezuelan Bolivar VEF) is extremely complex - it took us several weeks to actually understand and we will try to explain it in next blogs. Venezuelan officers didn't bother much for us being different than a usual visitor and so the border crossing only took a slight amount of time of what we imagined and heard from other travellers. Santa Elena de Uairen is a lively border town which blooms with illegal trade. Gold, silver and Bolivares can be bought on the street at every corner. We exchanged money all the time and never had any troubles even when the police or national guard (guardia) were around. Not only that they don't bother to intervene, they use the black market exchange themselves as well. There are many posadas and tourist agencies in town that offer more or less expensive tours to Roraima and Gran Sabana, but since the crisis began, several of the biggest already shut down their business due to lack of tourists. We wanted to avoid visiting Roraima with an agency anyway so we came well prepared. Reading about the lack of food in Venezuela, we already left Manaus fully packed with provisions for an isolated six day hike. Our meals were neatly packed in zip-lock bags, the fuel bottle for our little ethanol stove was full, raincovers and ponchos were close at hand, water purifier charged and although our backpacks felt like having stones in them our spirits were high. Because the visit of Mt. Roraima requires a guide, we contacted a local freelancer with good recomendations and met with him on the street to talk business. He couldn't take us to the mountain himself, but he offered to organise another guide for us that could also speak english (you will see why this is important in the next episode). We found accomodation at a german couchsurfer Niklas, that became fascinated with Venezuela, married a local, settled down in St. Elena and now owns a travel agency and a very nice cafeteria with the best coffee around. Already on our first day in the country, we experienced a part of venezuelan everyday life and had to go to bed without a proper shower due to the lack of running water. The day started with a nice cup of coffee (we were surprised observing seven year old scholars drinking espressos as a daily habit) and a guarantee from Niklas that our guide will be late. Not having been acustomed to the Venezuelan rythm yet, we got up an hour too early and waited for the guide to gather his food for another one (it was partly our fault booking a guide at the last minute). The Roraima journey commenced with a 4WD drive towards the mountain village of Paraitepuy. On the way, the silhouettes of the famous table-top mountains (tepuys) were already taking shape and the ever present fog was covering both of the neighbouring tepuys Roraima and Kukenan. The anticipation grew with every driven kilometer and once we arrived to the village it didn't take us long to put on our hiking shoes (our guide was satisfied with crocs), inscribe in the visitors book and start walking. The way to the summit usually takes three days, but we were pushing our guide to reach the top of the mountain already in two, because we wanted to have more time to explore the top. The path leads across the vast graslands of Gran Sabana, between the fires that have been a local routine for centuries and are the reason for the lack of trees across the whole area. The tepuys are therefore visible throughout the whole first day of hiking and appear like growing from the ground as you approach the feet of the mountain. The first day, we walked for five hours, crossing two rivers on the way (crocs came in handy for our guide at those points) and reaching Rio Kukenan camp-site. We planned to reach the top on the next day, so we started early and continued across the same landscape, but the path was getting steeper with every step. We stopped occasionally to catch our breath and admire the views of the mountain with the constantly moving clouds that condensed between the tepuys. During one of these moments, we caught a sight of a magnificent double rainbow arch forming just a short distance away from us that made the place feel like it was drawn for a cartoon. We reached the base-camp a whole hour faster than planned and took the whole hour to rest and relax - the toughest part was still in front of us. The climb to the summit is not technically demanding, but with more than twenty kilos in backpack and the first longer hike in months it was not a piece of cake. The way to the top of the mountain leads through thick tropical forests, that were too inaccessable to be burned down by the locals and the path winds its way along a steep ledge - the only part of the mountain side, that isn't pure vertical rock. At one point, you have to cross under a waterfall, at the other you can appreciate the views of the rocky mountain walls. We had to use all our power to get to the top and the last couple of hundred meters we basically crawled on all four. The trees were already gone at that point, and the characteristic black rocks already started to appear in strange formations. Our guide Fernando, that had been walking at least a couple of hundred meters behind us for the whole two days took the lead now to navigate us through mist and rocky blackness towards our accomodation. We camped at the hotel Indio, that might not include all of the comodities of other hotels, but sits the highest and offers the best views over the Gran Sabana with a marvelous sunset. By the way, a hotel on Roraima is just a simple rock with an overhang, that offers enough protection against the rain and winds to enable cooking and a comfortable sleep in the tent. Before getting to sleep, Fernando tried to scare us a bit with some spooky stories about the place and with the dark and mysterious surroundings, he might have succeded just a bit :) But we were too tired to be afraid anyway and after setting up the tent, cooking a simple dinner and freezing a bit in the chilly wind we squezeed ourselves in the sleeping bags and spent the first night on Roraima. In the next two days we explored the mountaintop to see some of the interesting spots that this crazy landscape has to offer. On the way towards the triple border of Brasil, Venezuela and Guyana we stopped for one of the best views of our lives. The air that was blowing over the edge of the cliff was cold and fresh - the mountaintop sits at around 2700m - and underneath, the immense Guyanaise jungle was spreading way into the distance with little white clouds gently moving over the treetops 400 meters below us. While enjoying the view of the neighbouring tepuy Kukenan, we could feel why these mountains were a source of mysteries for thousands of years. We continued our way towards El Posso, a big sinkhole that was carved into the stone during billions of years by one of the many mountain's streams. A jump into the Posso needs a bit of courage and is just as interesting as the way out, that leads through a tunnel and requires a little bit of climbing :) We also took a bath in natural pools called jacuzis, but the resemblance is purely in their shape, the water is freezing cold. In the evenings, while we were cooking and sharing our scarce food with Fernando who only took bread and hot sauce with him for the whole six days, we were listening to his stories about travellers getting lost on the mountain. Some of them only took a short walk from the hotel but couldn't find their way back when heavy fog suddenly rolled over in a matter of minutes. We also had a share of bad weather so we could't see all of Roraima's sights because visiting a viewpoint in fog really doesn't make sense. But we didn't care much - the place turned out to be more than we could ever expect and some facts about the mountains additionally blew our minds. Tepuys are the oldest mountains in the world and already took their shape in the time of Pangea when South America was still connected to the African continent. Due to their isolating shapes, the flora and fauna on top is completely endemic and scientists found some species whose DNA is more similar to their African relatives than the ones in South America. The rising number of turists are the reason that precautions to protect the environment also include taking all human excrements off the mountain. After the third night on Roraima, we therefore packed our stuff including a medium sized poo-bag and left the mountaintop. On our way down, we realised how lucky we were to be able to spend two full days as the only people on the mountain. Due to the carneval period, dozens of brasilian and venezuelan turists were on their way to the mountaintop. We couldn't believe the number of people we met on the way since for the whole four days before, we were practically alone. Back at the village, we counted 150 inscriptions after ours and Fernando told us, that people sometimes need to wait in the base camp for several days in order to get a free spot at one of the hotels on top. Pretty tired, we climbed a little hill to take the last view of the mountain and talked about coming back again sometime in the future and if possible bringing our friens or family to show them this amazing place. We came back to St. Elena full of energy and impressions. After packing out our stuff to leave it on the air for a bit we realised Gasper's smartphone is missing. He couldn't believe his stupidity - he barely used the phone on the mountain since there was no signal anywhere and still he was somehow able to lose it on the way... |
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February 2019
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