Well, our Post-Roraima come-down has been a roaring success. The day after the pizza and salsa party, we all met for breakfast at La Panedaria, then onwards for fresh juices with our Brazilian Momma. People began to leave, each with their own immutable itinerary. We had a fantastic Brazilian lunch at Nova Opcão, and because it was Saturday, there was Feijoada. We promised Brani and Polly that we would see them either in Bulgaria or England, and the rest of the time was spent deep in fascinating conversation with Bruno, whom we will most certainly visit next time we’re in Berlin. Frankly, our entire trekking group was the best we could ever have wished for! The following day was a race to get onto the 13.00 Expresso Occidente bus from Santa Elena to Caracas. Twenty-two hours! But it’s a doddle, and nowhere near the longest single journey we have undertaken on this expedition, or, for that matter, on the other two big ones!
Arriving at the Terminal de Oriente in Caracas, we were, to be honest, terrified of negotiating our way to the airport in one of the most dangerous cities of the whole world. But don’t forget, good fortune has certainly been on our side throughout our travels in South America, and today was definitely no exception. Once again, somebody up there really loves us! Simon was quite anxious to go in search of a café negro, grande y fuerte, and so Jon managed to navigate the pair back to the little panaderia they had used on the outward journey, where he had made a good friend of the Portuguese owner. Yes, there he was, and the coffee was enjoyed, together with some sage advice about handling the city. Another man was beckoned over to show us how to catch the bus to get to the metro station to take the train to catch the airport bus. Sounds complicated, doesn’t it? And at precisely this point, as the intrepid duo marched slowly and purposefully past a taxi driver who was pretending to be buried deep inside the daily newspaper, he sprang into life, chasing them with questions about destinations. He must have been having a quiet day, for he agreed to take us to the airport (and this is from a bus terminal 18 km the wrong side of town) for just 150 Bolivars. Deal.
We sped into downtown Caracas past the Teleferico to El Avila, we saw the towers of the Parque Central, we saw the new cable cars ascending to the hill-top barios, we admired all the shanty towns clinging to the mountains and painted in jaunty colours, some with pastel shades, others co-ordinating to make the Venezuelan flag. All along the way we chatted in fluent Spanish with Eduardo as he pointed out the sights, described all the dangers, and gave us his take on Chavez. What a truly fantastic city this appears to be! The autopista sped us through tunnels, over bridges and down to meet the sea at Maiquetia. The airport is here, and we thanked Eduardo, promised to give him a call next time we’re in Caracas, tipped him 20 Bolivars para una cerveza, and headed off to the departure hall. Will we manage to find an internet connection in Cuba? Who knows, but the next seven days are going to be spent exploring La Habana de Cuba: Habana Vieja, Centro, Vedado. All with cigars, rum and Santeria....
Cubana have messed around twice with our flight details, and it’s now a night flight. Check our progress online or on teletext if you can, it’s an old Russian Tupolev aircraft and who knows just what will happen! It’s CU 311 on 4th April, scheduled out of Caracas at 22.30. Wish us luck and keep your fingers crossed!
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