BARCELONA: THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 30
I chatted with a couple of German travelers last night and with two Germans resident in Venezuela. They warn that Caracas is dangerous, Merida is dangerous, even Barcelona is dangerous. Barcelona is my next stop. It has an historic centre. Hopefully the centre will be less of a disappointment than Carupano.
Mount up and head out...
The coast road is curves and heavy traffic. I cling to the hard shoulder and pull off where ever possible to let trucks and cars pass. Don't let them pass and they overtake on the next blind curve. Why? Because this is Venezuela.
Suicide behind the wheel is Venezuela's national sport.
Players are homicidal maniacs with a minus IQ.
They scare the shit out of me.
Showing posts with label Carupano. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Carupano. Show all posts
Sunday, January 06, 2008
TEACHING INDIGENOUS GRANNIES TO SUCK EGGS
POSSADA NENA: WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 29
I chat with an intelligent woman. She reads books in a hammock while her husband scuba dives. Her husband is an expert on Central America. In Honduras he taught poor Central Americans to build cheap houses for themselves. Now he oversees junior German aid workers teach poor Central Americans to build cheap houses. He is a small man determined to be muscular. He showers and changes from one short-shorts sports outfit to another short-shorts sports outfit. His wife is an adult. He is a teenager. Both are in their mid-forties.
I ask if he teaches adobe-making.
The question irritates. He doesn't answer.
I chat with an intelligent woman. She reads books in a hammock while her husband scuba dives. Her husband is an expert on Central America. In Honduras he taught poor Central Americans to build cheap houses for themselves. Now he oversees junior German aid workers teach poor Central Americans to build cheap houses. He is a small man determined to be muscular. He showers and changes from one short-shorts sports outfit to another short-shorts sports outfit. His wife is an adult. He is a teenager. Both are in their mid-forties.
I ask if he teaches adobe-making.
The question irritates. He doesn't answer.
FUN DIRT
POSSADA NENA: WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 29
A German in his 40s is on a GREAT ADVENTURE. He has shipped a big Suzuki trail bike from Germany. He has tattoos, muscles and a pony tail.
I ride a small Honda and have a grey beard and a belly.
The German's geographic knowledge is a little vague and he doesn't carry maps. He is heading for Chile to visit an uncle. He sort of knows where Chile is - Down there.
He is excited at meeting a fellow biker. He serves me a beer. He suggests we ride up some dirt-road mountain tomorrow. The road is rough. We will have fun bouncing from rock to rock and the view from the peak is great.
I say, "Old men on pizza delivery bikes don't do fun dirt."
A German in his 40s is on a GREAT ADVENTURE. He has shipped a big Suzuki trail bike from Germany. He has tattoos, muscles and a pony tail.
I ride a small Honda and have a grey beard and a belly.
The German's geographic knowledge is a little vague and he doesn't carry maps. He is heading for Chile to visit an uncle. He sort of knows where Chile is - Down there.
He is excited at meeting a fellow biker. He serves me a beer. He suggests we ride up some dirt-road mountain tomorrow. The road is rough. We will have fun bouncing from rock to rock and the view from the peak is great.
I say, "Old men on pizza delivery bikes don't do fun dirt."
WORLD HERITAGE FRAUD
CARUPANO: WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 29
Carupano is on the coast. Guide books describe it as a splendid colonial town, a World Heritage Site. What earns a city the accolade of World Heritage Site? Who decides? Do politics or money play their part?
The church in Carupano has been ruined by restoration - imagine a Bad B movie tart-up. A few houses are good. The rest is a mess. And there are no cafes where I can sit outside and drink a beer. A sign advertises a possada with pool and Internet. The pool is empty. Internet doesn't connect. Owner and guests are German. I am too tired to move.
Carupano is on the coast. Guide books describe it as a splendid colonial town, a World Heritage Site. What earns a city the accolade of World Heritage Site? Who decides? Do politics or money play their part?
The church in Carupano has been ruined by restoration - imagine a Bad B movie tart-up. A few houses are good. The rest is a mess. And there are no cafes where I can sit outside and drink a beer. A sign advertises a possada with pool and Internet. The pool is empty. Internet doesn't connect. Owner and guests are German. I am too tired to move.
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