Our trip into Venezuela was very comfortable. We did not have temporary import papers for our motorcycles in Brasil and were a little worried, so we decided to ride on through the Aduana after getting our passports stamped out in immigration on the Brasilian side. Well, it worked and we soon crossed over to Venezuela, where we were sure to get our temporary imports. We already had the acceptance ticket into Venezuela for tourism that we picked up for free in Belem, so it was quite easy getting into the country. The border town of Santa Elena was only a few kilometers away, and we had enough gas to get us into town.
The ATM machines do not work for our cards and so after five days in this country, we are still running off of the extra Reais we had from Brasil that we exchanged over the border. However, we have been able to use our credit cards at super markets and hotels, so we are making it through. This is where it gets interesting.
In terms of prices in this country, a person will pay around 15 to 30 USD for a hotel room. Pretty reasonable. You will pay 10 USD for a hot meal, a little expensive for a South American Country. At the super market, you will pay 40 USD for bread, ham, cheese and juice. Ok, this is getting expensive. Beer is about 1 USD per can, and you can only buy them at liquor stores. Different. Water is about 1 USD for a liter container. This is where it gets really interesting. If you want to buy 1 liter of gas, it is going to cost you about 0.06 USD. This means that water costs 17 times more than gasoline in this country.
Ok, I understand that this country has surplus of gasoline. I know that there are a few people is this country that are making a lot of money off of it (will explain later). However, if you cannot afford a car, how are you going to afford a sandwich?
We met a group of BMW riders in Santa Elena at the hotel (4/30). They live up around Caracas on the coast, and were down in the southern part of the country on a tour for vacation. They were all driving brand new shiny beemers (oil business) when I pulled up in my classic Airhead covered in red clay with a dirty sheep skin on the seat. I do not need to front in order to prove my status of masculinity; I was proud. They ended up being incredibly friendly and helped us out a lot in terms of information on touring in Venezuela.
We took off the next morning and filled up for the first time, laughing at the prices. We made it to kilometer maker 88 when we ran into a couple from Venezuela on a Honda Shadow heading north as well. They told us about a biker rally in Puerto Ordaz and asked us if wanted to go. We told them that it had been a long day and were actually looking for a hotel. They were great and showed us to one, exchanging info before they took off.
We took off the next morning and filled up for the first time, laughing at the prices. We made it to kilometer maker 88 when we ran into a couple from Venezuela on a Honda Shadow heading north as well. They told us about a biker rally in Puerto Ordaz and asked us if wanted to go. We told them that it had been a long day and were actually looking for a hotel. They were great and showed us to one, exchanging info before they took off.
About an hour later, we heard the Shadow roar back up to the hotel. It turns out there was a protest going on down the road where some angry workers set fire to old cars in the middle of the highway and were not letting anyone pass. But not to worry, although it was a national holiday for workers in Venezuela, I was able to find a phone card and call my sister on her birthday.
The next morning, we took off early with our new friends on the Shadow, Orlando and Joseliana from Barquisimeto, thinking the protest would be over and we would be able to pass. Unfortunately, the rusted cars were still in the middle of the road, with trucks, cars and touring buses stopped up for miles as people shouted back and forth over the economic hardships of Venezuelan life. We turned around and went back to the hotel to ask about an alternative route. The ended up taking us up into the mountains on dirt roads filled with clay pits filled with water and makeshift bridges that formed tricky obstacles. The road took us through a series of mining facilities that extracted minerals from the mountain sides. They used old techniques of pumping water through tubes up the mountain side on supports made of sticks tied together. It was classic and adventurous. When Cristi fell over in the mud, we had our laugh, however, that turned around and they soon were laughing back at me when the guy from the hotel that was showing us the way, stepped out of his buddies pick up truck and asked to ride on the back of my bike. He was not a small man, however, the space left on my bike certainly was. I was feeling mighty friendly with my gas tank as we went through mud pits and puddles. I ended up taking him to work, which was not far off from when we made it back to the highway, around the barricade. We ended up running into another group of bikers wanting to head south. They did not feel like taking a Gold Wing through mud, so they headed up to Puerto Ordaz with us.
Orlando and Joseliana were wonderful. They let us shower at their place and camp out at Orlando´s sisters for the night. They took us to the biker rally, where they gave us free admission and introduced us to all the clubs in the area. Our bikes were a major attraction as well. Apart for the Moto Guzzi, the fancy Suzuki Boulevard, a nice Harley, and the boys pulling spinners, I really think they were attracted to the dirty sheep skin on my seat.
The next day, we had breakfast with Orlando and Joseliana, who then went and purchased our gas for the fourth time, and sent us off to Ciudad Bolivar. They were wonderful and amazing and have given us a warm feeling of this country. Americans are definitely welcome here...excluding the President..JPG)
Jasper Fall, north of Santa Elena..JPG)
Of road detour around demonstration.
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Do I even need to explain this one?
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Friends Orlando and Joseliana with their uncle at the farm.
