2012, 1st - 12th March: El Cocuy, Colombia

2012, 1st – 12th March: El Cocuy, Colombia

El Cocuy was my first main stopping point after crossing into Colombia from Venezuela. The main theme of my time here was mountain walking in the El Cocuy National Park.

For a full set of photos, use the following link to the corresponding set in my Flickr account:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/67212524@N04/sets/72157629586473339/

The Journey to El Cocuy: 1st March

The journey in Colombia from Pamplona to El Cocuy was worthy of note because it was an ´Andean adventure by coach´. When travelling by bus the day before from Cúcuta to Pamplona, I had an introduction to the ongoing battle between man´s desire for roadways and nature´s wish to level everything out into a mix of rocks and gravel. The Cúcuta to Pamplona route had numerous spots where the nearby river had eroded the earth below the road, leading to a partial collapse and the need for the bus to skirt around the big hole.

The six hour journey from Pamplona to Capitanejo (my connection point for El Cocuy) was made in a full size coach on Route 55, so one might expect such a vehicle to be used on tarmac-only routes – not so. The journey started off on a tarmac roadway with a seemingly unending succession of tight bends which the driver was intent on making small-fry of, so reading a book was not an option if the back of the head of the passenger in front was to escape a dousing of warm carrot chunks. As we made the long climb to the mountain pass, the incidence of collapsed road sections increased, with some so large that improvised road sections had been carved through the area giving one the impression that the coach was driving through a quarry. By the time the coach reached elevated altitudes there was no tarmac at all, just a gravel road barely wide enough for the coach and passing lorries to squeeze past each other. So why is a gravel mountain road worthy of note? Well it is when you make the journey on a 45 seater coach!

Narrow Passing Spaces for Coaches & Trucks on
Mountain Pass Section of Route 55

As well as marveling at the driver´s skill and perseverance at getting the coach over the high pass and through the numerous mountain valleys all on rough roadways, I enjoyed the impressive scenery in which the low (by Andean standards) mountains were used for farming.

On reaching Capitanejo I switched to a smaller local busetta (mini-coach). This made the two hour journey along an entirely gravel road up to the mountain towns. The driver took on all the en-route challenges without a flinch, such as tight squeezes alongside steep drop-offs to rivers below.

Gravel Mountain Road Between Capitanejo & El Cocuy

All in all, the twelve hour journey from Pamplona to El Cocuy was a memorable one. In an area where the Andes rule the landscape, no journey is going to be plain-sailing.

El Cocuy – The Town

The town of El Cocuy is located on the edge of the national park of the same name. My time spent in the town was most memorable for the friendliness and warmth of the people. They have left me with a very good first impression of the Colombian people.

The town is centred around a pleasant plaza. The town has gone to some effort to preserve its character, for example, all buildings are painted the same – white rendered walls with green paintwork and trim.

El Cocuy Street Scene

Chatting to a local revealed that things were very different just ten years ago. At that time guerillas / paramilitaries were present in the town and there was little or no police presence. Today´s situation is a world away from that; the town felt entirely safe to me and everyone was cheerful and approachable. The only evidence that organisations with other motives are still present in Colombia was the protection given to the one bank and cash machine in town. It is located next to the police station, but furthermore opposite the cash machine is a 24 hour army position – basically a wooden hut filled with sandbags with some gun-holes. Police with pistols and army with rifles are present. I would not want this one security measure to leave the reader with a negative impression though – as I said the town felt entirely safe to me.

The fact that this area has seen such an improvement in just ten years is a positive example of how a negative and dangerous situation in a turbulent country can be greatly improved in a relatively short amount of time. Hopefully other troubled countries in the world might be able to achieve something similar.

Laguna de la Plaza: 3rd – 6th March

The El Cocuy National Park is only given a brief entry in my guide book, but the mention of snow-capped high peaks as well as photos of its impressive scenery on the internet were enough for me to decide to make it my first place to spend some time in Colombia. The picturesque town of El Cocuy is a convenient entry point for the national park. With an altitude of 2750 m (9022 ft) a stay in the town gives one´s lungs the first step in getting used to the thin air that will be experienced on the peaks.

My first day was spent with Berni, a German guy I met in the town, getting to know all the options available for trekking in the mountains and connecting with a local mountain guide – Alfredo. Berni only had time for a two day visit to the mountains while I opted for a longer five trek which would take in the area around Laguna de la Plaza as well as an ascent of the Pan de Azúcar peak.

The national park is remote and the outer camp sites and the many of the mountain cabins (cabañas) can only be accessed by driving on a gravel road followed by a few hours walk along a track. The most common and economical way of making the journey on the gravel road is on one of the early morning camión lecheros (milk trucks). These leave town around 6am and make circuits around the many little farms and homesteads in the mountains collecting milk from cans left by the side of the road. As a passenger you sit in the back between the large milk cans. The two hour journey through the countryside with the local folk made for an entertaining start to my time in the mountains.

Sharing a Camión Lechero (Milk Truck) With the Locals

As I would be climbing to heights in the region of 5000 m (16,404 ft) it was a good idea to spend the first night camping in the grounds of the Sizuma cabaña (mountain cabin) which is at a height of 3980 m (13,058 ft) as an altitude stepping-point. Alas, the sleeping bag I hired which was supposedly rated for nighttime mountain temperatures of around zero celcius was anything but, and even with all my thermal clothes on a fitful shivering night ensued.

The next morning I set off with my guide for the Laguna de la Plaza trek – Ramiro. He is a very knowledgeable chap and gave plenty of insight into the mountain fauna, the most prominent of which is the frailejón shrub. This plant only exists at altitude in the northern parts of the Andes. I first encountered it in the mountains around Mérida in Venezuela, but in the El Cocuy national park it was far more prevalent. It flowers at its top each year, with the flowered section from the previous year helping to feed the new top section. It grows extremely slowly (1 cm per year), so many of the larger plants I saw were over 100 years old. Its long slender ´trunk´ and its flowered top gives the plant a sculptured look. As a result, some areas of the mountain valleys almost look like the manicured garden of the stately home of an eccentric gent, which is a strange sight when one is in some remote mountain valley.

Frailejón

The first days walking took us over Paso Cusiri at 4410 m (14,469 ft), down to Rio Calichal at 4105 m, over Paso Patio Bolos at 4350 m and on to Laguna de la Plaza at 4300 m (14108 ft). At the top of Paso Cusiri I had my first taste of the typical mountain-cloud vistas common in that part of the national park. To the east of the mountainous area are the flat wetlands of Los Llanos (the Colombian part of the same area as I visited in Venezuela). When the clouds formed over this wet region reach the mountains of El Cocuy you typically enjoy one of two phenomena - one pleasant, the other less so. In the early and mid morning the clouds swirl around the lower mountains and if you are at a high point, such as a mountain pass, you are presented with a beautiful visual mix of rocky ridges wrapped by white blooming clouds. Later in the day (lunchtime onwards), the clouds have typically advanced further and even on the peaks things become rather misty and rainy. Indeed on the approach to our planned camping spot at the edge of Laguna de la Plaza, the advancing clouds starting dumping rain on us. Luckily Ramiro knew a cliff overhang that served as a great sheltered spot that was large enough for us to fit our tents under. As the rain did not let up we decided to stay put and make camp there as it was only 15 minutes walk short of the lake.

Mountain & Cloud Mix as Viewed from Paso Cusiri

The next day was spent exploring the beautiful area around Laguna de la Plaza and since we would return to the same camp spot we could leave all the heavy gear behind. An early start meant that we could enjoy all the beautiful vistas in the sunlight before the mists rolled in during the early afternoon. We ascended the peak Pico Blanco (4900 m (16,076 ft)). This not only gave wonderful westward views of the lake with Pan de Azúcar behind it, but also the chance to be above the vast white cloudscape sitting above Los Llanos the east. Further westward vistas were of the peaks of Toti, Portales, Concavo and Concavito as well as El Costillo to the north. After that visual feast we descended via one of Colombia´s tiny glaciars between Pico Blanco and Pico Negro. The return to camp was made via the other shore of the lake, towards the end of which the afternoon mists rolled in – justifying our early start which allowed us to see the wonderful views before they became obscured. Another misty, damp and cold late afternoon, evening and night was spent in our sheltered spot.

Tim on Summit of Pico Blanco with Picos Concavo & Concavito Behind

Tim on Summit of Pico Blanco with Cloud-Covered

Los Llanos Region of Colombia Behind 

Laguna de la Plaza with (left to right) Picos Diamente, Pan de Azúcar & Toti Behind

Characteristically, the dawn presented some pleasant yellow hues on the nearby mountains, with the sun soon managing to burn off the moisture for the bright start to another day. We returned to the cabaña at Sizuma via the Patio Bolos and Cusiri mountain passes. As I needed to make sure my energy was up for the next day´s ascent and being tired from three fitful and cold night´s sleep I treated myself to a night sleeping in the cabaña.

Pan de Azúcar: 7th March

This day saw an early start at 5:15am with a different guide – Alfredo. Starting the ascent of Pan de Azúcar (5100 m (16,372 ft))  just as the first light was breaking over the mountain tops was favoured because the snow in the upper sections would still be firm from the cold night and the summit could be enjoyed before the daily mists arrived.

During the upward trek the yellow hues of the early morning sun were spread out across the mountains to the west and there was a clear view of Ritacuba Blanco (the highest peak in the area) to the north. Upon reaching the snowline, I reveled in two visual treats – El Pulpito de Diablo and the snow and ice covered peak of Pan de Azúcar. El Pulpito is a very distinctive feature as it is a huge section of rock, which is as geometrically close to a rectangle as one can expect a mountain to be. It´s brown and red rock was a striking form rising out of the pure white snow against a clear blue sky.

El Pulpito del Diablo

We donned crampons and got out our ice axes and started the final part of the ascent past one side of El Pulpito, before turning up the ridge towards Pan de Azúcar. Once close to the summit I could see that it was a like a large ice sculpture atop a rocky slab. On occasion during the steep ascent up the ridge to the summit, the effects of the high altitude showed. With the hard exertion of climbing the steep snow-covered slope it was sometimes difficult to extract enough oxygen from the rarified air and my breathing became too rapid. This was easily resolved by simply stopping for 20 seconds or so until my blood was sufficiently re-oxygenated before setting off again.

Alfredo During Approach to Summit of Pan de Azúcar

The final approach to the summit was very exciting as it involved carefully advancing along a thin ice-ridge which had a section that was sufficiently flat to stand on that was barely a metre wide. During that section I made sure I had my ice axe well positioned so that I could use it quickly to arrest my slide if I was to slip off the thin ridge. The grip afforded by crampons was very welcome. At the summit, I soaked up the incredible views of mountains, lakes and cloudscapes below – all mist free, celebrating it with a cup of tea – how very British of me! What with all the snow and ice during the climb I had to remind myself that I was in Colombia and not Patagonia - of course, that is due to the cool high altitude temperatures that exist even in the hotter parts of the world.

Narrow Ice Ridge Approach to Summit of Pan de Azúcar

Tim on Summit of Pan de Azúcar

Alfredo treated me to a descent from the summit via one of the vertical sides by setting up a rappel. Just below the summit, the mists rolled in and I appreciated the early start and the fast pace we set during the climb so that the visual treat of the summit views could be enjoyed un-obscured by clouds. 

Tim Starting Rappel Descent from Summit of Pan de Azúcar

Ritacuba Blanco: 9th – 10th March

Ritacuba Blanco at 5330 metres (17,487 feet) is the highest peak in the national park. After a long ride on one of the local leicheros I spent one night in a cambaña near the start of the approach valley to help re-acclimatise. The first sign that this climb may not go to plan occurred the night before in the cabaña. I foolishly walked down the painted wooden stairs in just socked-feet. With no grip on a rather dangerous design of stairs with no handrail I slipped and landed on my back hard. I´m still in pain a number of days later, so some heavy bruising must have occurred. This made carrying the rucksack the next day rather painful and did not aid easy breathing in the rarified air.

My guide Ramiro and I set off at 4:30 am. Shortly into the long climb up the approach valley I knew there was something amiss with my energy levels. I was either feeling the altitude or I was just run-down / overly tired after some days over the previous week at altitudes I´m not used to. My pace was not terrible – just down at average rather than my usual above average. Once we got to the snow line, it was snowing and the visibility was awful at around 10 metres. Much of the time it was a near white-out. When we got to around 5150 metres altitude (about an hour from the summit) we stopped to consider the options – the visibility was very poor, I was really struggling for energy, we heard a small avalanche in the distance from the direction of the summit and the snow was getting deeper which made the final section to the summit (an ice ridge) a potentially risky proposition. Reluctantly, we decided to turn back. In hindsight a good move as with my low energy levels, getting back to the cabaña was a real slog and test of my will power.

Tim & Ice Form During Ritacuba Blanco Ascent Attempt

My low energy levels during the climb (likely due to the altitude) were a reminder to me that at 5000 metres where the air pressure is only around 540 mbar (normal atmospheric at sea level is 1013 mbar) one cannot expect the body to perform perfectly all the time – i.e. with only around half the air pressure. My guide said that similar things happen to other climbers who are fine one day, but then feel awful at the same altitude another day. In fact, even guides are not immune to having days where the altitude affects them out of the blue. If I am to reach higher altitudes later in my South American adventures I will have to be patient at times and maybe even give myself more than one chance to successfully climb some of the higher peaks.

After all the physical excursion of the past eight days, I spent a couple of days back in the town of El Cocuy resting before catching a night bus to Bogota.

The Night Bus from El Cocuy to Bogotá

Just like the journey to El Cocuy, my trip out through the Andes on Route 55 and down to Bogotá was never going to be drama-free, what with Mother Nature trying to brush aside man´s attempts at road building - no, the driver has not got lost and turned into a quarry again, that´s just another section of road that´s fallen prey to a small landslide…

Now imagine this, you are on a full size coach and on numerous occasions, a collapsed or in-repair section of road is encountered. The driver then has to inch along with seemingly no clearance on either side through mud and rocks. Sometimes the conductor has to get out with a torch to look under the wheels to see if all is ok and on occasion find rocks and branches of trees to put under the back wheels of the coach to help it regain traction and get out of the mud - quite amazing really.

Each time tarmac was encountered again, the driver was seemingly liberated by the freedom of passage and made up time by throwing the coach around the unending series of tight bends before slamming on the brakes to navigate past more potholes or to start the next ´Bus Driver´s World Series Skill Test´ to get through the next mud-rock-steep-drop challenge. Suffice to say; with all that happening with great regularity until will finally left the Andes behind trying to sleep was near impossible.

One has to admire the resilience of the driver, making such a journey each night – a touch more challenging that cruising along a nice smooth British motorway.

2012, 19th – 29th February: Mérida, Venezuela

2012, 19th – 29th February: Mérida, Venezuela

My second ten days or so in Venezuela were spent in Mérida as well as on excursions which used Mérida as a base. Mérida is located in an Andean valley in the south-west of the country. Since the city is at an elevation of 1600 metres (5250 feet) it is cooler than many other places in Venezuela which gives a welcome break from the heat. Interestingly, the height of the highest mountain in the UK (Ben Nevis in Scotland) is less than this at only 1344 metres (4409 feet). Height-wise, British mountains are mere ´bumps´ compared to the peaks in the mighty Andes range, with even Andean cities at a greater elevation.

For a full set of photos, use the following link to the corresponding set in my Flickr account:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/67212524@N04/sets/72157629484648237/

When Ivo, Marije and me arrived in Mérida, speaking to locals revealed that the even though the city is one of the country´s hotspots for celebrating the Carnival weekend in Venezuela, it does not have the colourful street parades seen in, for example, Brazil. It is apparently a rather rowdy and drunken affair. So we decided to give all that a miss and head on a four day guided excursion to Los Llanos the next morning.

Los Llanos: 20th – 23rd February

The tour was led by our guide Pedro and we were joined by a Brazilian traveler Thiago.  Los Llanos (meaning flat land) is located to the east of the Andes. It is a vast flat area of grazing land, wetlands and waterways. To get to the Los Llanos area we drove across the Andes on Routa Transandina via the mountain pass at Laguna Macubají at a height of 3400 metres (11,155 feet). During the descent the other side, the scrubby vegetation at higher altitudes gradually gave way to lush forest as we passed through the Páramo area. Once we left the Andes behind near the city of Barinas the heat and humidity that one normally associates with Venezuela returned. The switch in conditions brought about by the change in altitude achieved in an hour or so of driving was remarkable.

Towards the end of the dry season (now), the vast wetland areas have fewer places still containing water, which concentrates the wildlife into these few spots. This meant that the amount of creatures easily visible throughout our time there was incredible. We saw caimáns (like very small crocodiles), capivaras (like a very large guinea pigs), anacondas (large snakes that live in swamps and kill their prey by crushing them), an ant eater, piraña fish, turtles, dolphins, vultures, egrets and other birds.

The plains are grazed by a type of cattle that was brought over from India in the 1960´s. These cattle are more able to withstand the hot conditions and have a pronounced lump on their backs behind the neck. This stores fat which helps them to get through any times when food is scarce.

We stayed in accommodation provided by a farm located between Quintero and Mantecal near the town of Bruzual. Activities included a boat safari, a jeep safari, riding on horses, fishing, looking for anacondas and a night safari to look for ant eaters. During the middle of the day (12 to 3pm) we rested as it was so hot and humid it sapped one´s energy.

The boat safari delivered creature after creature along the banks of the river (caimáns, capivaras, turtles and numerous birds). We stopped on the banks of a deep section where dolphins were present and did a spot of fishing for piranhas. This involved attaching a chunk of red meat to a hook on the end of a line – no rod required, then pulling hard when they bit. If one trailed the bait through the shallows, it was surrounded by tiny fish (which feed by biting then twisting their bodies to rip off the meat) – and the bait was consumed in a moment. With all those teeth around, swimming in the river was not advised, as any small cut would send all the fish into a biting frenzy. The fish we caught one day made a delicious addition to the evening meal. 

Caimán

Capivaras

Piraña for Dinner Tonight

During the jeep safari we drove past the many waterways formed in the large ditches dug many years agoto drain grazing land and to provide earth for the elevated tracks required to travel in the area. We saw more caimáns and capivaras, storks, herons, egrets, coro coras (a bright red bird like an egret), many types of vultures and javirús (very large birds that stand about one and a half metres high – though they are still able to fly).

Our guide Pedro and some helpers from the farm searched swamps for anacondas. We found a female near the bank. She had about ten males wrapped around her nether regions – all hoping to be the one who´s genes were passed onto the next generation. The vast difference in size between male and female anacondas was very apparent (the males are much smaller). It was possible for the (quick and brave) experts to separate one of the males and hold him up for us to see before gently releasing him.

Female Anaconda with Many Males Wrapped Around Her

During the night safari as well as seeing more caimáns (Pedro briefly captured then released one to allow us to see it closely while he explained it´s features), we were lucky enough to see a large ant eater at relatively close range before it ran off. Ant eaters are nighttime creatures and can be difficult to find – hence the use of a search light on the roof of the jeep.

The wide plains of Los Llanos were a good example of man and nature living well together. They were also a peaceful place to be – especially with the daily colourful sunrises and sunsets.

A Late Afternoon Los Llanos Skyline

A Los Llanos Sunset

Los Nevados: 24th – 26th February

In the mountain areas above Mérida are many villages and small towns. The village of Los Nevados (nevados meaning ´snowed on´) at an altitude of 2700 metres (8858 feet) is a picturesque setting for the start of a trek made by me and a guide Jarrett. Jarrett is from Seattle in the USA but has lived in Mérida for some time. He is a well-informed man, so we had many great discussions where we ´put the world to rights´.

The journey from Mérida to Los Nevados was a treat itself. It was made in a jeep as the road soon turned from a tarmac affair into a dusty track, which on many occasions was only just wide enough for the jeep with a steep drop on one side and a rock wall on the other (´hats off´ to the driver).

The posada Herez in Los Nevados had commanding views of the valley of Rio El Morro which we walked down to on the first afternoon.

The Village Los Nevados

Early the next morning we set off to climb up to a pass / col called Alto la Cruz which is at an altitude of 4250 metres (13,944 feet). On the climb up we saw the shrub called Frailejon, which has long soft leaves which have medicinal properties. It grows very slowly, taking around 40 years to reach a height of around two feet. It is particular to this part of South America and only grows above a certain altitude.

Climbing to Alto la Cruz

At the pass we met Pedro in who´s house we would spend the night. We walked down to his house which is at an altitude of 3340 metres (10,958 feet). This elevated position meant that even though we were in Venezuela, the night was very cold (the ground was hard with frost early the next morning). As the accommodation was very basic I was glad to have brought cold weather clothes with me on this trek (justifying lugging them all through hot and sunny Uruguay, Paraguay, Brazil and north-west Venezuela).

Early the next morning, the clouds that had obscured the peaks the previous afternoon had cleared and there were beautiful vistas of Pico Bolívar (Venezuela´s highest peak at 5007 metres (16,427 feet)) and the valley below. We descended to finish our trek in the valley near the village of Mucunutan (at a similar altitude to Mérida) and on the way down there was a noticeable change in vegetation through the warmer lower altitudes, with increasingly lush forest full of ferns.

Early Morning Vista from Pedro´s House with Pico Bolívar in the Background

Early Morning View from Pedro´s House

Journeying from Venezuela to Colombia: 28th & 29th February

Even before embarking on this journey, I had a feeling it would supply a degree of irritation and it sure did. It involved a bus from Mérida to San Cristóbal, another bus to the Venezuelan border town of San Antonio, then a walk across the bridge across the river that divides the two countries and another bus to Cúcuta in Colombia.

The theoretically feasible plan was to do the above and continue to Pamplona (Colombia) another couple of hours further on from Cúcuta (Colombia) - all in one day. Alas, buses on this continent do not always work out as expected. The first bus left Mérida (Venezuela) at 7am, not 6am as I thought. Add to that an hours delay waiting for an accident further up the road to be cleared, plus an overly long refreshment break and random roadworks all meant that I got to San Cristóbal (Venezuela) more than three hours later than expected. If the Lonely Planet guide book was to be believed, I would then reach San Antonio (Venezuelan border town) after the office to buy the exit voucher from would be shut (though in hindsight that information is probably out of date), plus I would cross the border bridge in the dark. I decided to grab a hotel bed near the bus terminal in San Cristóbal - hotel, dump, streets in area, dump. Rip-off merchants everywhere, noise, fumes (Venezuelan fumes are hardcore as all vehicles run rich all the time - try adjusting the carburettor fuel needle for crying out loud).

The next morning I got out of the place as quick as possible and made the border crossing ok - a memorable one walking across the long bridge between the two border posts. After getting ripped-off by a ´taxi´ driver (who upped the stated fare substantially halfway through the journey) - my fault for using an unofficial taxi, I arrived at Cúcuta bus terminal. Another highly unpleasant place - absolutely full of touts and rip-off merchants, a constant barage of the snakes trying to get their teeth into you. Got out of their as soon as possible on a bus to Pamplona. A two hour climb into the low slopes of the Andes to arrive in a very pleasant town. Another bonus is that people here actually engage with you and listen to what you (with an English accent) are trying to say unlike, sadly, many people in Venezuela, though please note that I did meet many nice people while in that country.

2012, 8th – 18th February: Puerto Colombia, Chichirivichi & Coro, Venezuela

2012, 8th – 18th February: Puerto Colombia, Chichirivichi & Coro, Venezuela

My first ten days in Venezuela were spent along the Caribbean coast in the north west of the country, visiting the small coastal towns of Puerto Colombia and Chichirivichi as well as the city of Coro.

For the photos covering this period of my travels, use the following link to Flickr:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/67212524@N04/sets/72157629104162690/

Puerto Colombia: 8th – 11th February

I flew into the capital, Caracas, but given the widespread reputation the city has for crime and violence (even amongst Venezuelans), I elected to steer well clear and arranged an airport pick-up straight to Puerto Colombia. Being a peaceful and picturesque colonial town three hours west of the city it is a world away from Caracas.

Puerto Colombia is on the north coast of Parque Nacional Henri Pittier which includes mountains and beaches. The nearby palm tree-lined beaches are visually stunning because they have the rich blue Caribbean Sea on one side, with the land rising immediately to forest covered mountains on the other – though such a steeply rising land mass does make for some turbulent wave forms, so the beaches are not the best for swimming.

Playa Grande Near Puerto Colombia

I was lucky to meet some great people in the Posada - Stefan and Martina from Sweden and Maria from Germany. I ended up hanging out with them in Puerto Colombia as well as Chichirivichi.

My time in Puerto Colombia was spent on the nearby Playa (beach) Grande, on a boat trip to nearby Playa Valle Seco, and on a walk up a nearby mountain to an abandoned hotel where there were great views down to Puerto Colombia and neighbouring Choroni.

Chichirivichi: 12th – 14th February

Chichirivichi is a small coastal town close to Parque Nacional Morrocoy, a beautiful area of numerous islands, islets, cays and mangrove-lined bays.  With my new friends we spent our days making excursions by fast launch out to many coastal highlights which included Cayo Peraza, Cayo Sombrero, Golfete de Cuare and Cayo Pescadores (where ´cayo´ means small island). The Chicirivichi quay side was awash with men hustling for business on their different launches, so some haggling was required to achieve a reasonable price.

While speeding around the coastal area on the launch or walking on the beaches of the islands we visited, I was presented with a stunning array of colours, from crystal clear water in the shallows over white sands, through aquamarine hues and darker blues over rocks and the deeps. The vistas were completed by more blues in the skies and bordered by mangroves and palms.

Beach on Cayo Sombrero, Parque Nacional Morrocoy

Suffice to say the sea was wonderfully warm and days were passed swimming, resting in the shade of palm trees and wondering which island to visit the next day. The seas were not as rich in sea life as other places in the Caribbean, but there were a range of fish to spot and even a cay with starfish.

Starfish in Parque Nacional Morrocoy

Coro: 15th – 18th February

Coro is a city close to Peninsula de Paraguaná in the north west of the country. While it has a colonial area it cannot claim to be a visual jewel. After all the beautiful dunes I saw in Brazil and the stunning beaches of the Henri Pittier and Morrocy national parks in Venezuela as well as other beaches in Brazil, the coastal areas near to Coro struggled to compete with my visual memories from earlier travels.  A visit to the beach at Adicora on Peninsula de Paraguaná was only a place for a good swimming workout – ah, it seems like I have been spoilt by stunning beaches elsewhere during my travels as I´m getting picky! So some of my most memorable Coro moments were hanging out and cooking with more great people in a pleasant posada and a street parade at the start of Carnival weekend.

Maria from Germany continued travelling with me and just before leaving Chichivirichi we hooked up with Ivo and Marije from Holland and Nando and Fabienne from Switzerland. We all stayed in the same posada. We all wanted a break from the typical fayre found in many Venezuelan eateries which can lean towards the stodgy side of possibilities, which along with regular frying of food leaves one feeling in need of dishes centred on fruit and vegetables. So we all chipped in and ate healthily and heartily for three days.

Tim & Friends Enjoying ´Home-Cooked´ Food

My final few days in Coro coincided with the start of the Carnival weekend (celebrated throughout South America). One day there was a large street parade which was predominantly for children. Each of the numerous groups had their own themed costumes and many had a percussive band accompanying them. The enthusiasm of the people made for some great photos.

Coro Carnival Exuberance

Coro Carnival Rhythms

Coro Carnival Costume

Venezuelan Food Experiences (So Far)

It is fair to say that Venezuelans like it doughy and fried which likely explains the large number of spare tyres walking around. One food I like is a breakfast item called an arepa. It is a flat circular patty made of maize flour and cooked with a little oil on a hot plate. It is sliced open and filled with many possibilities including shredded beef or chicken or fish. It is funny that if you buy a cheese one, it automatically comes with ham in addition to the cheese (though the ham is not mentioned) – vegetarianism…what on earth is that?!

Venezuelan Currency

One can obtain the Venezuelan currency (Bolivares – abbreviated to Bs) one of two ways; from the banks or from other sources. If you go for the latter, you will achieve an exchange rate that is nearly twice (yes twice) as good, which would almost half the cost of your time in the country.

As a Bolivare is not really worth that much, you end up feeling like a money lender with the amount of notes that end up in your wallet. Also, with the rate at which you dish out twenties when journeying around on buses or shopping for food you think that you´re blowing the budget, but then you remind yourself that 20 Bs is not a lot of money (about £1.80 with exchange rate from other sources).

Venezuelan Petrol Prices

If you are a fellow European, the petrol prices in Venezuela will ´do your head in´. During my time in the country, the cost was a little under 0.1 Bs per litre. When I first saw this price displayed on a pump I had to re-do the sums in my head again and again because I could not believe what I was seeing. To put this price in context, here are some related currency conversions (as of mid-February 2012):

Official exchange rate (at banks etc):  £1.00 = Bs 6.8

Exchange rate from other sources: £1.00 = Bs 11

Petrol price in Venezuela based upon official rate:  1.5 pence per litre

Based upon other exchange rate:  0.9 pence per litre.

So we´re talking in the realms of 1 pence per litre !!!!!

Let us now relate this to the current crude oil price, which is $103 per barrel on WTI basis and $120 per barrel for Brent crude. Using a conservative rate of $100 per barrel this gives $0.63 (£0.40) per litre for crude.

Crude oil will have to have all the other fractions and gunk refined out of it before it becomes petrol. Once this is done, it will be worth a lot more. So when refined petrol is being sold for less than one fortieth of the price of crude, it is clear that President Hugo Chávez is effectively giving it away (maybe to win votes from the less affluent). The 0.1 Bs charged per litre is likely just the markup charged by the petrol station to cover their operating costs.

As a closing remark to sum it all up; so far the cheapest mineral water I have found is Bs 15 for 5 litres (Bs 3 per litre), so petrol at the pump is nominally 30 times cheaper than mineral water in Venezuela!

Venezuelan Cars & Trucks – Fuel Economy

Why might a great many Venezuelans care about the price of petrol? Because what many of them drive drinks the stuff. Around a third of the cars and trucks in Coro are a big lump of metal with an old boat engine in it – not quite, but that´s an indication of the engineering prowess. Most of these metallic hunks are cars from 1960´s, 70´s and 80´s United States of America. When brand new I doubt these metal monoliths on wheels were getting more than 20 miles per gallon, and now in Venezuela in 2012 probably around 6. They all run rich, making for a soupy atmosphere at road junctions. The knackered state of many of them is entertaining, but really, if you´re only paying 1 pence per litre you´re not going to be too bothered if the fuel gauge drops like a whore´s drawers.

Metal Monolith on Wheels in Coro

Venezuelan Cars & Trucks – Sound Systems

It seems that in Venezuela, as a man your wheels and your sound system are right up there as factors in determining where you are in the pecking order. If you have the money to buy a set of wheels other than the hunks of metal on wheels mentioned above, then your next priority is the sound system – it must be loud and coloured lights are even better.

Then it´s off to park at the local hang-out place with your boot open and the bass bins jumping to draw all those pretty women with your pop-samba and latino-pop-funk.

Venezuelan Buses – Sound Systems

I get the impression that the local Venezuelan buses are owned by collectives, so they treat them as a personal possession – as such the stereo system is an important accessory.  As a minimum, the panel above the windscreen will be full of tweeters and bass cones. There will also most likely be a pair of hi-fi speakers near the back on the luggage rack and the real men also have a sub-woofer somewhere on the bus too.

Venezuelan Bus Sound System (Speakers on Panel Above Windscreen)

The ticket collector is that plus a DJ and journeys are spent listening to all his bouncing sounds – sometimes it´s really loud. A suited English gent with his newspaper would probably spontaneously combust with indignation in such an environment.