Early in the morning we took the ferry from Cheguramas to Güiria in Venezuela. The ferry took about 3,5 hours. Güiria was probably the sleepiest town we’ve yet visited and full of weirdos. While we sat there in a park in the middle of the town discussing how to get to Carúpano one of them (also a taxi driver) tried to convince us to go with him instantly by telling us that if we stayed in the park we’d probably get killed and mugged during the night. Showing this with very, very clear hand movements. Especially the stabbing part was hard to miss, even for Chris who didn’t understand much of the Spanish.

We felt more and more eager to leave but everything was extremely expensive. The bus didn’t leave in several hours so we ended up taking the por puesto (shared taxi) which didn’t cost much more than the bus. The fare took about 2 hours. On the way we were stopped twice to be body searched. First they went through our bags thoroughly opening every zipper there was. Then they body searched Christoffer who had to follow one of the machine gun armed guards and strip butt naked behind a house. The guard pointed at Christoffers underwear as a sign to take them off. Why? The guard wanted to make sure he wasn’t hiding any gun in his underwear....

It was exhaustingly hot outside that day which made our driver very thirsty. And what tastes better than a cold beer? So while driving to Carupano our driver drank beers dumping them on the side of the road one after the other. We arrived in Carupano around 5 pm and started looking for a hostel. We soon realized that the Footprint’s South American handbook that we had bought in Sweden was total crap. Nothing was correct. Everything was triple price (or sometimes even more) in comparison to the book. We got really tired trying to find a place to sleep at. We found a hotel where I could sit down with our bags and wait when Christoffer ran around looking for hostels. At this point we were in our worst conditions yet on this trip. Chocked (due to the prices), tired, hungry, stinking of sweat and angry at a lousy book. Chris came back and just shook his head. Tired, hungry, stinking and disappointed we asked if we could get a better price at the hotel where I had been waiting. We got a room for 90 BsF which would give us a luxury room any other place but here it was a shabby tiny room with a small bed. As soon as we went inside and had unloaded the bags ready to get something to eat the room just suddenly turned black. When we opened the door it seemed a major power outage had turned the whole city black.

I thought someone was pulling our legs and apparently there was. His name; Chavez. We soon learned that this was a common thing in Venezuela. Chavez urge Venezuelans to turn down their air conditioners. He's even lectured the country on the bracing virtues of a cold, three-minute shower. Many people here help themselves to electricity for free by splicing wires onto power lines...

Chavez also made a joke on television telling the people that he needs only three-minute showers: "I've counted and I don't end up stinking; I guarantee it."

Anyways, the power outage lasted for about two hours so we knocked ourselves out and slept for several hours. The next morning we went to look for a bus but again everything was immensely expensive and the bus didn’t leave in several hours so again we decided to take a por puesto to Cumana.

At this time we were both in a pretty bad mood. We had planned to go to the Angel Falls and other spectacular places in Venezuela before going to Manaus in Brazil to take a boat along the Amazonas but now it was too expensive so we knew we had to change our plans. In Venezuela you need to bring lots of dollars to change at the black market. The official rate is horrible but even with the black market it's not cheap. We only had 100 dollars and they disappeared faster than a fart in a thunderstorm.

We arrived in Cumana without needing to be body searched again. Although this time, we had a 10 minute long arguing with the driver who wanted to rip us off. Luckily, he didn’t succeed. Thank God for our Spanish lessons! We went looking for a hostel but again they were all too expensive. We went inside a hostel that had WiFi and went online to see if we had received any couchsurfing replies. Luckily, there was a girl called Damiana who had answered. We instantly gave her a call and she said she would be there in an hour.

Meanwhile, we sat down and met another backpacker, a French man. We shared a pizza and he even bought us some beer. Finally, we could relax a little and laughed again. When Damiana came we were happy to be rescued. We jumped into her car and went to her home which was in this really lovely neighborhood where every house was unique and personal. Inside we were welcomed by her sweet mother and three jumping dogs.

We ended up staying with Dana for four days. Sunday night we wanted to experience something true "Venezuelan style". Something we could never ever experience in Sweden. We bought beer just by sticking out our heads from inside a car by the side of the road on a Sunday night! This is what the Cumana people do. They take their cars to this place, which was next to the sea, to drink beer, turn up their music real high and hang out. Then they drive back home.

On the other days we went to the beach, walked around the city and went to a really beautiful castillio and watched the sunset. By now, you all know we never get tired of sunsets.

We also played cards one night while drinking a bottle of Cuban Rum we had bought in Cuba and eating Ahlgrens bilar. After glasses of rum and vodka Chris could suddenly speak Spanish better than ever before and lectured Damiana and her friend about the Vikings and Gustav Vasa.
Time was running away and we decided we would change our plans and go to Colombia instead. To do this we had to take the bus to Caracas, change there and go to Maracaibo before entering Colombia.
Monday night we took the bus to Caracas. 7 hours later we arrived in Caracas where we bought a new bus ticket for Maracaibo, a 13 hours bus trip.

Esteff

written by  Steffi & Chris on December 1, 2009 from Cumana, Venezuela
from the travel blog: 212 days
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OMG i forgot Fabricio told me about the guard who searched everyhing in your bags and Chris got naked LOL they where searching not only guns, drugs too!

And i didnt knew about Chavez comment...Totally crazy! O_o

I hope you write something about Maracaibo :)

I'll be checking your blog to read new stories about your trip!

Miss you guys :( now we dont wanna stay here we just want to traveeeel so much til we die! For now we cant...But soon will do it and we wont stop :)

written by  Connie Vega on December 8, 2009

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