A week in the wild was liberating, it was good to be completely immersed in green, savannahs and water. But more, it was good to get out of Caracas. I am still trying to figure out what exactly I did to Caraquenos in one of my past lives to be spoon fed the crap I am getting here.
Nonetheless, back to Salto Angel and more. It all started with a white pinto, ala 1964, driven by Tomas, a kind of older looking Venezuelan porn star, who drove us to a posada in the middle of nowhere, think deliverance meets white trash backyard with anorexic horses lurking in the nearby pasture. We swam in lukewarm water, took cat naps in hammocks, drank very sour but tasty cuba libres and began our week long meal plan consisting of bread, rice, potatoes and any other carbohydrate you could imagine. Thank goodness for the green engulfing me physically because I was not ingesting anything that color.
After a night in a cave like room, we returned to Ciudad Bolivar to get on our Transmandu airline flight to Uruyen.
Some background info: I am not a good flyer. I admit to it, I get the wobbles, I say "Hail Marys." I often pray to Buddha, Allah, Mohammad, Jesus and whoever else is listening when there is a shake, rattle or roll in the plane. I've had two emergency ascensions in the last 3 years. I take at least 25 flights a year, I think I have a reason but still.
Anywho, this plane was small, 6 seats including the pilots. The pilot was a Venezuelan version of Richard Gere which was comforting. I mean, it's always nice to have something to look at that's handsome if you are on the verge of hitting the ground. We got up and it was remarkably smooth, and took an absolutely brilliant 2 hour plane ride to a little eco village with adobe huts with straw roofs.
Here we met our guide for the next two days, Clemente, a member of the Canamokota tribe, who led us up waterfalls fearlessly and told us stories of dumb rivers and rocks that kills people ala black magic.
The first night in a hut, we found a friendly visitor frolicking between both Sergio and Kathy's room and Christa and I's room. There was a creepy little mouse who shit all over the room and scaled the walls like an old pro. We insisted on moving huts and ended up four in a room with a safety in numbers theory. However, it didn't matter because karmic retribution prevailed and Kathy and I ended up with legs that look a bit like we have contracted leprosy between the mosquitoes, puri puri and perhaps, (but hopefully not) bed bugs.
The next day after more waterfalls, pasta, bread, a small canoe ride, etc. I was sitting on the toilet trying to go, but the carbs were not having it. All of the sudden another little friendly mouse, runs out from a small hole in the bathroom wall and runs all over the room. Still, because Clemente thought we were big wimps, we decided that we would live with the little bugger that evening.
The next day we hopped aboard the plane to head to Canaima to gear up for our trek to Angel Falls. After a meal of very chewy grizzle and rice, we saw 6 of the most picturesque waterfalls I have ever seen, pretty much look like they came off a screen saver or maybe they were the inspiration for one. Still, chilling out behind waterfalls was pretty surreal, a combination of being in a giant rainstorm, dream, and then the 3 palm trees in the middle of the lagoon felt very Salvador Dali-esque....
Finally, on Wednesday, we set out to Angel Falls, 3 hours in a boat and 1.5 hour hike later, we saw it, the one, the only tallest waterfall in the world. It was pretty amazing but the whole thing was definitely like last fall break, about the journey and not the destination.
Christa and I had a momentary scare when we decided to trek down the path by ourselves. It pissed rain and we sat for an hour at dusk on some hot rocks along the river for awhile, thinking about what we would do if they left us... Dizzy Darwinistic ramblings at dusk.. Eventually, our guide and the others returned and we walked through the rainforest with heaving rain to our camp, slept in hammocks (not recommended for longer than cat naps) and got up the next morning to deep fried arepas and perico.. Mmmm, culinary delights...
Yesterday, was one of the longest travel days I have ever had, a 3 hour boat ride, 1 hour trek, bus, 6-seater plane, pinto, corolla, and finally, a DC-9...
But now, I am home... If you can call where I live home, but I am going to leave that drama for another entry cause this is getting pretty lengthy.
Ciao!
Heather
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