It was only meant to take 6 hours to get to Caracas, but in the true South American way it will take longer, I’m thinking that 12 hours should give me enough time to get into the city and get the cheap bus to the airport and avoid walking in the street and using the metro. The only time I have to be somewhere on time for the past 3 months and I’m late, the bus is getting into the station the same time Mary has landed – not bad then, only 5 hours late! Getting to the airport at night means its a taxi ride away, I also have a very limited number of Boliviano’s (B’s) in my pocket and stopping at a cash point is an absolute no-no!
The reason for the lack of B’s is down to the corrupt bent cock arse government that is running the country at the moment, when you get to a bank and take out USD’s you get an ‘official’ rate of 4.3 to the USD – which is not bad they inflated it at the start of the year from 2.0!! So you then take the exactly same USD bill you have in your pocket and ask any person in the street and they will give you 8.5 – so double bubble. Only snag is that you need to have USD’s in your hand, and my problem is that Mary has my USD’s!
I’ve let about 4 taxi’s drive past before I chose one which looks safe enough – he’s about 65 and is on the large side so I can out run him if it needs be I just hope he doesn’t carry a gun! All the books and people I’ve spoken to advise you to avoid unofficial looking taxis especially at night – but I have no other option! We confirm the price before I get into the old Chevrolet Miami and with its jacked up suspension and oversized rear wheels we’re off on a high-speed run down the freeway to the airport – just hope that Mary is waiting in the bar for me. A slight issue when I get to the airport the price agreed was in B’s but my friend is trying to tell me its USD’s!! No tengo nadda mi amigo! I have nothing – the only thing I can think of is to say I was robbed and he now has all my money that I have! Now its at this point that I really hope he doesn’t own a gun because I’m about 500 B’s short and that to him is a lot! So I try and bargain with him come on I was/am a sale man I can get out of this – I think its going well until he reaches over to the glove box and at the same time I notice the guard 80mtrs down the road with his back to me – all I can think is oh fuck, oh fuck – yip oh fuck. I don’t know how but some one up there is looking down on me – he takes out a card with his number on it and insists that I call him when I need a cab in the city and I can pay him back the remaining money then.
I will be honest with you, a very large amount of poo nearly came out of my arse when I stepped out of the car – right now I could do with a very stiff drink!
The relief that comes over me when I see Mary is overwhelming, for the past four months I’ve been talking to travellers and strangers and all I’ve been after for the past couple of weeks is a friend to talk to about anything else than the usual travellers questions! However slight issue when she walks out of the gate – they have left her bag in Atlanta but not to worry as I hear some magic words;
“I have the gin right here and I packed a spare pair of clothes as this always happens to me – so fancy a drink and get the hell out of here?”
“Like you would not believe – but lets get an official taxi please! I can’t deal with anything else right now”
Within the hour we’ve manage to get into the hotel and locate a bar which serves gin & tonic’s in the right quantity – a dash of tonic to your half a pint of gin and a dribble of lime juice! It could have been five or even six of them we had I can’t quite remember, pretty much lost track after the second one! The clock is reading 04:30 and the bill pending on your form of currency is cheap as chips or typical London battle-cruiser!
Day two in Caracas and we’ve managed to locate a great little cafe for morning coffee and chocolate that’s the first important thing done now second item on the list but possibly the most important is to find the only cocktail bar in Caracas which is on a roof top of some plush apartments and is in the ‘safe’ area of town. That evening turns into a bit of a bar crawl and the last place we stumble into looks pretty cool – plenty of cheesy 80’s & 90’s tunes on the TV and a funky looking crowd! It’s about the third or fourth beer and we finally clock the name of the bar – Hog’s Heaven, actually looking around the crowd is a very mixed bunch of people and the more beer’s I’m having the more I notice they are all looking at us!!
After a couple of hours a girl pulls a chair over and starts talking to us in English and the first thing she say’s to us is that we must me a crazy sitting in a bar talking in English as it’s just not safe! She’s a little drunk so I’ll have a pinch of salt with some of the things she says but I believe her somewhat when she points out her friend on the other table and tells us about his kidnapping story – and he was a local!
Day three and thankfully the aloof bag has arrived and all in once piece – downside is that we have missed the bus back to the beach so another full day and night is to be spent in the city. Situation normal then – coffee and chocolate? Followed by a G&T – why not!
We find a Peruvian food market to during the day after that we consult the old book on what to do in ‘Hell’ on a Sunday night.
“This looks like a plan Doyler – a restaurant which holds about 150 people and after food it turns into a manic salsa bar where you can shake your thang!”
After walking around in Shits Ville for all of 2 minutes and finding the place its closed – second on the list, cheap chicken and rice with even cheaper beer!
Day four – four days in Hell and feeling like you live behind a barricade we are high tailing it to the bus station to get the first one back to the beach, we tick the necessary options of coffee, fruit and snacks for the hopefully short-ish ride!
the bean hunter 