Cuidad Perdida Hike

hola chic@s,
after travelling all the way to Santa Marta, Colombia, I went on a splendid hike to Ciudad Perdida, the Lost City. 5 days of hiking in the deep jungle of Sierra Nevada, 120 million mosquitos against 8 hikers, and 1200 steps to be challenged at the end. But we made it, and it was awesome. I am just going to flash some pics and let them do the talking, as they speak pretty much for themselves.

see the pictures here:

Ciudad Perdida Hike

Boarder Crossings: Venezuala -> Colombia

From Puerto Colombia I figured to do a major trip all the way to Santa Marta to hike to the Ciudad Perdida. And yes, I was fleeing from high venezuelian prices. And yes, I never felt really secure, so it is hard to get really into a holiday mood. But a 24 h buseta-bus-taxi-bus ride had to be taken at first, including the boarder crossing close to Maicao. So I took a buseta, a small bus, from the beach through rainy forests all the way up to Maracay. There, I took a 10 h night bus to Maracaibo, a massive town close to the "Lago de Maracaibo". I arrived at 6:30 in the morning, had watched 2 revolution movies and really didnt feel like sitting three hours in a cab to the boarder, sweating my arse off while listening to very loud folk music. And it should came different.

After a having used baños publicos, which is an adventure just by itself - but I skip the details here - I took a cab to the boarder. So I packed my backpack in the trunk, took a seat, but it didnt start. Taxi driving is not like it is back home in Germany. So the driver waited until he had 5 passengers, inclidung me, which took about an hour. so three in the back and 2 plus the driver in the front. So far so good, but after we actually got our arseson the road, I smelled gasoline. and a lot of it. The tank obvioulsly had a whole and gasoline was evaporating into the passenger cabin. It turned out that this was not the only thing that weird: In total we had to pass like 10 military check points, asking for passports. For me no problem as I had mine handy in my daypack. BUT: We had a half-legal and a "nationalisado" in our cab. The half-legal was Colombian and had an expired visa and the other one was nationalized, meaning she was Colombian, but stayed (and maybe worked) in Venezuela for 10 years or so and lost the Colombian citizenship. On the other hand, she didnt had a Venezuelian citizenship either, so everytime we were stopped,she had to get off the cab and was trying to persuade the officers to let her cross the boarder... so instead of 3 hours (for 120 km) it it took us 5 to reach the boarder, of course not without having to bribe 2 boarder officers. They literally said: Either you bribe me, or I am going to inspect your luggage for the next 2 hours.

So we bribed the guys, and reached the second last control. They didnt let the illegal woman cross the boarder and she had to go all the way back...

after bribing the last officer, I finally got the stamp in my passport and crossed the boarder. But the cab with te backpack was gone...

Luckily, it was waiting 500m ahead of us, and brought us to the next bus station. From there, I took another 4 hours bus side to Santa Marta where I found a nice hostel ( Casa Familia ) and I finally found a bunch of other travelers to share my stories with. Puh. That was an experience. But everything went well. That´s the spirit...

Puerto Colombia, Choroní

Hey, I am already out of Venezuela in order to enjoy cool breezes on nice Colombian beaches. But first things first.

I took a bus and a "buseta" to Puerto Colombia, a really nice beach. But I was running out of money. The ATM was not an option, since Hugo Chavez set the exchange rate to a ridiculous low rate. And I hadn´t brought to much cash. So I went with my last 60 Dollars US to the black market und changed it for like 2.5 times the official rate. In a fish shop :) So dont expect the black market to be at a certain place. It´s everywhere.

So, I had money, but still not to much. But I got lucky and found a cheap place to stay at a Venezuelanian family. That was kinda new experience, since I was sleeping on their terrace, in a tent. The dschungel was just 3 meters away :) Next morning, beach time. BEAutiful.

Getting There

"Under these circumstances, I cannot let you enter the plane", I was told at Duesseldorf Airport.
Nice. That´s how a trip should start. The DELTA Airlines supervisor found out that I do not have a return ticket getting me out of Venezuela, which is true, as I am going to leave Venezuela by bus. Due to some imigration restrictions, I would need a return ticket or I might not be able to enter Venezuela. At least that was what I was told. I had 20 minutes to get a ticket for a flight, that I would never use. 10 minutes and three-hundred-fucking-fifty dollars plus ticketing fee later, I had that ticket. So now I could leave Germany towards Atlanta, Georgia, where I had a connecting flight to Caracas, Venezuela.

Many hours later, and with 2 hours delay, I arrived at Caracas Airport. At midnight. Not exactly what I had in mind. But hey, the return ticket only cost 630 euros, with the return flight being provided from Buenos Aires, Argentina. So arriving at the most dangerous town in South America at midnight, I had to find a safe way to the city center in order not to get robbed by strangers and/or taxi drivers. On my way from Atlanta to Caracas, my seat neighbour was an engineer who was going to Caracas for a job, building up the backbone of venezuela´s cell phone infrastructure. So we chatted, and he was interested in physics, so I explained him how some things work and he was so grateful to give me a free cab-ride into the city (so I saved like 40 dollars or so, *kling*).

well prepared as I always am, I phoned from Atlanta in order to get a reservation at som hostel, but unfortunately, low-budget hostels are rare in Caracas, and the only placed offering shwap accomondation are actually love-motels that offer non-hourly rates to backpackers as well. So that cab brought me to "Nuerstro Hotel", and I was more than happy to find a prison-bars-like entrance door and not to many hockers.

the bed was shitty, the "bathroom" was as good, but I had only one roommate, a cockroach, I killed it, and I wsa alone. Not even a single hocker knocked on my door. So I had a long, decent, 5-hours sleep until the warm air made sleeping impossible.

Bottom line is, you should not expect a warm embrace from Caracas, rather a slap in the face, but hey, at least it keeps you focused. On the other hand, I am THE only backpacker in the city, at least it seems to be like that, so after I had a delicious breakfast ( I mean it) I will now head on to some beach town 2 hours from here called Puerto Colombia in order to get some rest and meet birds of a feather.