Stage 1 of our Journey South
Trip Start
Jun 11, 2005
1
6
25
Trip End
Jun 05, 2006
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Puerto Ordaz/Ciudad Guyana,
Venezuela
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
On Friday, 24th June we headed south, on the first leg of our journey to Santa Elena. Our first stop was Puerto Ordaz, a city which makes up half of the urban package of Ciudad Guyana (with San Felix making up the other half), a mere 12 hour bus journey away, and about half way between Caracas and Santa Elena. The bus journey was fairly comfortable, and I had the rare pleasure of reading an entire novel in one sitting. The only wandering we had from the path of good luck was the journey taking 3 hours longer than planned (due to a bridge being washed away, we later found out, and an alternative route being taken). This meant we arrived in Puerto Ordaz at 12.30 am rather than the expected 9.30pm, but our host, a german called Wolf, was not phased, and came to pick us up at the bus station when we arrived.
We spent the next day in and around Puerto Ordaz which as a city I didn't have much fondness for, but it did have a pleasant park replete with waterfalls, and a cracking hydroelectric power station/museum/café combo. Wolf's house was quite comfortable, and he generously gave us lifts and came to collect us whenever we needed to go anywhere.
Also staying with Wolf was a kindly French doctor called Luis. He had come to Venezuela some years ago as part of an EU venture to spread medical knowledge to the area, and he was now working with the indigenous communities in the Orinoco region. He and his wife had decided to stay in Venezuela, and ran a hotel/lodge in the middle of the jungle, and he invited us to stay if we had the time.
Howler Monkey in Repose
He was very pleasant company, and he talked with great passion about his work, which was focussing on providing clean drinking water and anti-mosquito measures for the indigenous communities, rather than just handing out medical supplies.The next day, we left for a 2 day trip to the Orinoco delta, and took an hour's taxi ride to meet Roger, our tour guide.
Accompanying us was Kaj, an entertaining long-haired german who had come to Venezuela, he informed us within the first 5 minutes of conversation, to kill himself. Fed up with life in the former East Germany, his plan had been to come here, take a trip to Angel Falls, the world's tallest waterfall, and then throw himself from the top. He got as far as the falls, but was so overwhelmed by its beauty, that he decided that maybe life was worth a second chance after all, and had then stayed in Venezuela. He now lived in Piacoa, a small village on the banks of the Orinoco river, where we were staying that night, and from where our boat into the Delta would leave.
Piacoa (pronounced "pee-ah-co-ah") was as far as the road goes: from here to the coast, the only means of travel is boat ("ze arse end of Venezuela" as Kaj eloquently explained). It is called a "delta" as the huge Orinoco river ceases to be a single channel of water here, and splits off into hundreds of canals and waterways, the land becoming a multitude of little islands.
This was where the first European explorers arrived when they first "discovered" South America.
On the River
They found indigenous people living in the Delta, as some do still, in houses built on stilts. This unusual sight prompted the Europeans to first name the region "Venezuela" - Little Venice. That there was any substantial land here at all was of course a surprise to them at the time: as they headed further upriver and saw the scale of the Orinoco, they first realised that the were on a continental land mass - no pokey little Caribbean island could support a river that big.After our arrival in Piacoa, we stood around with Kaj and a few locals drinking beer in the lazy sunshine, very pleasant. We took a ½ day boat trip that afternoon, and another one the following morning, and both were great. It was really pleasant to be out on the river, which was enormous (1/2 mile wide plus) in parts, and only just narrow enough for the boat in others.
We saw all sorts of birds, and lots of howler and capuchin monkeys in the trees, even some mothers with babies on their backs, very cute. On the morning of the second day we were treated to the sight of pink river dolphins jumping in front of the boat, a very memorable experience. Our guide, Roger, was ok, but didn't speak much English. Also he didn't seem to know much about the wildlife, and sounded like he made stuff up on the spot.
Eg. Us: "Roger, what's that bird called?"
Roger: "Umm... (pause) ... 'evolution bird'. Very rare. Yes. All ze birdwatchers come here to see it."
Our taxi ride back to Puerto Ordaz was straightforward apart from one brief moment of excitement when a falling coconut collided with the windscreen with a loud bang, causing it to crack, but not shatter.
Orinoco at Sunset
Our driver was not phased, and didn't even slow down. Maybe it happens a lot. The night before we left Puerto Ordaz, a tiny ginger kitten had been crying outside the house. It had been brought from somewhere by Rosa, Wolf's partner, but she wasn't looking after it. Wolf said he was going to "take it somewhere" for someone to look after it, but he didn't seem all that interested, more annoyed at the inconvenience of it all. Andrea was quite upset, and it was heart breaking to hear the kitten mewing for it's mother. We felt very helpless, as of course, we could not take it with us, and it seemed far too young to look after itself on the streets of Puerto Ordaz.
After our 2 days away, we were wondering what had happened to it. The kitten was nowhere to be seen, but accepting the realities of South American life, we tried to be pragmatic and didn't have the heart to ask Wolf what had happened to it.
After we had settled back in and were relaxing on the balcony at Wolf's, Luis, the French doctor, came out to say hello and to ask about our trip.
After a few minutes, Luis looked down at his feet, and there, playing with the laces of his shoes, was the little kitten.
" 'Ave you met Rookie?" he asked us. He had seen the kitten moping about, had called his wife at the lodge ("zee boss", as he referred to her) and she had agreed that he could bring it back with him. He was now feeding it milk every hour, had made a little bed for it next to his desk, and had named it Rookie. The cockles of our hearts were truly warmed, and he would forever be Andrea's hero.
That evening, we caught the night bus to Santa Elena.
Comments
Rookie
And Rookie is still happy and well, we get constant reports from new volunteers who stay at the house on the way down here. Luis the french doctor takes him back and forth to the camp on his trips, can´t bear to be parted!