Venezuela
Venezuela

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    • Day 433

      Venezuela

      February 2 in Venezuela ⋅ 🌧 27 °C

      Heute beginnt das Abenteuer Venezuela. Doch was weiß ich über Venezuela? Wo ich es geografisch finde ist mir zwischenzeitlich klar geworden. Was hat das Land zu bieten? Kamen die meisten "Miss Universum" nicht aus Venezuela? Das einzige was in meinem Kopf haftet ist, es ist gefährlich. Geh lieber nicht dorthin. Und trotz aller Bedenken ist Venezuela plötzlich auf meiner Reiseroute.
      Zunächst verabschiede ich mich aus meiner Airbnb Unterkunft mit einem Frühstück für Rosana und ihrer Mutter. Rührei und Power Vitamin Smoothie für alle. In der Stadt sind Thomas, Frank und ich verabredet. Nochmal schnell US-Dollar besorgen. Schnell? Die Kreditkarten können heute morgen kein Geld abheben. 24-Stundensperre. Mehrfache Versuche bei verschiedenen Banken sind erfolglos oder die Auszahlungsbeträge zu niedrig bei hohen Kosten. Dank der Hilfe von Thomas und Paypal finden wir eine Lösung. Frank ist bereits zur Grenze gefahren.
      Die letzten Grenzübergange waren alle einfach gewesen. Aber heute ist es irgendwie anders. Ausgerechnet die Ausreise aus Kolumbien gestaltet sich sehr zeitaufwendig. Im System hatte man vermerkt, dass Thomas nach Ecuador ausreisen wird. Es dauert eine gefühlte Ewigkeit bis man das System überzeugen kann, das er nach Venezuela will. Und zum ersten Mal erlebe ich, wie man mit Kohlepapier die Fahrgestellnummer kopiert. Wir treffen Frank wieder. Er und Thomas fahren voraus zum Grenzübergang Venezuela. Meine Ausreise gestaltet sich dafür zügig. Bei der Einreise die nächste Hürde. Man verlangt eine Einladung oder ersatzweise eine bestätigte Hotelbuchung. Frank sei Dank. Er fährt zum nächsten Ort und besorgt eine Einladung per Email. Für ihn als Venezolaner kein Problem. Und wir sparen viel Zeit. Ohne Taschenkontrolle dürfen wir passieren. Aber der Papierkram ist damit noch nicht erledigt. Wir brauchen ein Gesundheitszeugnis und eine Versicherung. An einem Verkaufsstand, der eher an einem Strassengemüsehändler erinnert, bekommen wir die nötigen Dokumente. Und da Frank uns unterstützt, gibt es keinen Anlass zur Zweifel und alles ist legal und sogar günstig. Versicherung für ein Jahr. Und im Gesundheitspass wird u. a. die Blutgruppe und weiteres vermerkt. Nein. Kein Arzt der einen untersucht. Alles einlaminiert und fertig. Geschafft? Nein, wir müssen Blue, Thomas seine "Suzi" und uns noch registrieren lassen. Die Registrierungsstelle im nächsten Ort schließt in Kürze. Und zu allem Überfluß fängt es an zu regnen. Und dann eine gute Nachricht. Man wird auf uns warten. Und tatsächlich, alle sind sehr freundlich. Jeder lächelt und Handshake. Jetzt heißt es endgültig, "Herzlich Willkommen" in Venezuela.
      Zu dritt fahren wir weiter nach San Cristobal. Und Venezuela begrüßt uns weiterhin mit Freudentränen. Die erste Unterkunft ist die Posada La Estancia de Bólivar. Der Besitzer ein begeisterter Motorradfahrer. Besitzer mehrerer BMW, Harley, Goldwing, etc. Stolz präsentiert er seine Honda Trike. Na klar, werde mich mal von ihm kutschieren lassen. Ungewohntes Gefühl. Frank hat Magenprobleme und verabschiedet sich. In der Nachbarschaft gibt es ein Restaurant und wir lassen uns Pizzen servieren. Und eines wird zum ersten Mal deutlich. Die Menschen sind sehr freundlich aber das Preisniveau ist deutlich höher als z. B. in Kolumbien. Und auch die Energieversorgung leidet in diesem Land. So wird zwischendurch die Stromversorgung für 4 Stunden abgestellt und in dieser Stadt auch mal die Wasserversorgung.
      Wir haben gemütliche Zimmer und Blue und Suzi stehen sicher. Die erste Nacht in Venezuela wartet auf uns. Gute Nacht.
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    • Day 434–435

      San Cristobal - La Azulita

      February 3 in Venezuela ⋅ ☁️ 28 °C

      Das erste Erwachen in Venezuela. Nein, keiner wurde erschossen und Blue und Suzi sind auch noch da. Zuerst eine kalte Dusche, Rambo lässt grüßen, irgendwann bin ich abgehärtet. Seit Wochen gibt es nur Kaltwasser in der nördlichen Region. Es ist sowieso warm und heiß hier. Also kein Problem, Hauptsache wir haben Wasser. Frank wird uns heute verlassen und weiter nach Valencia, seiner Heimatstadt fahren. Hier in der Posada gibt es auch eine kleine Werkstatt. Thomas checkt seine Suzi. Hatte er doch einen Ölfleck entdeckt. Nach einer gründlichen Reinigung und Durchsicht entpuppt sich der Verdacht als Fehlalarm.
      Der Nachbar unserer Posada wird zu einer Art Stammrestaurant. Dort gibt es Frühstück für uns. Der Besitzer ist sehr nett und Unterhaltungsfreudig. Er begleitet uns sogar, damit wir eine SIM Karte kaufen können. Man empfiehlt uns Digitel. Aber die Verkäufer winken ab, das Netz ist heute nicht verfügbar. Besser ist es eine Karte zu kaufen wenn das Netz wieder funktioniert. Na gut. Nutzen wir den Tag um uns etwas umzuschauen. Eines ist offensichtlich, es gibt nicht sehr viele Highlights und der Mangel an finanzielle Möglichkeiten spiegelt sich im Zustand der Gebäude wieder. Aber es mangelt nicht an Gastfreundschaft und Hilfsbereitschaft. Nach einer weiteren entspannten Nacht verabschieden wir uns aus San Cristobal. Es ist Sonntag. Die Tankstellen haben geschlossen. Der Sohn der Posada führt uns zu einem vertrauenswürdigen privaten Anbieter. Wir werden noch einige private Strassenverkäufer sehen, die ihre in Colaflaschen abgefüllten Benzinflaschen verkaufen wollen.
      Benzin ist in diesem Land unglaublich günstig und mit umgerechnet 0.50 Dollar billiger als eine Flasche Wasser. Wir verlassen die Stadt nordwärts über die Nationalstraße 1. Diese als "Autobahn" errichtete Straße versprüht einen denkwürdigen Charme. Gibt es hier ein Sonntagsfahrverbot? Kaum Verkehr und die Natur ist in Begriff sich die Straße zurückzuerobern. Bäume und Gras fangen an die Straße zu bedecken. Eine Szenerie wie in einem Apokalypse Film. Endzeitstimmung. MAD Max Feeling oder sind wir Teil der Dreharbeiten des nächsten "The Walking Dead"- Staffel?
      Es geht nicht nur mir so, auch Thomas sieht es als eine treffende Beschreibung. Und irgendwann sehen wir Menschen die anfangen mit Macheten die Straße wieder freizulegen. Unser Tagesziel ist La Azulita. Wir hatten von den Catumba Lightnings gelesen die hier in der Nähe sein sollen. Bei einem Zwischenstopp treffen wir auf den Italiener Gian. Er ist allein mit seiner Transalp durch Brasilien gereist und jetzt auf den Weg nach Kolumbien. Am späten Nachmittag erreichen wir die Posada von Alejandra und Franklin in La Azulita. Ein überaus herzlicher Empfang und eine Posada die einige Überraschungen bietet. Unter anderem zeigt Franklin uns eine Plattform, die damals der Vorbesitzer errichten ließ. Hier tanzten nicht die Puppen aber die Damen der Miss World und Miss Universum Veranstaltungen präsentierten sich hier. Zusammen mit Alejandra und Franklin fahren wir in das Dorf damit wir in einem Restaurant essen gehen können. Und hier zeigen die beiden uns noch eine Skulptur mit fließendem Wasser. Wer daraus trinkt wird hier seine Frau finden und für immer bleiben. Nun, nach eigener Aussage hat es bei Franklin gewirkt. Glücklich sehen die beiden jedenfalls aus.
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    • Day 3

      Missed Gugacamaya

      February 21 in Venezuela ⋅ ☁️ 79 °F

      But still, there is a great view of Caracas from Hotel Alex's rooftop restaurant. I was told that around 5 pm is when you might get an opportunity to feed the guacamayas (macaws)... No doubt a cool experience.Read more

    • Day 2

      Panaderia La Almendria Deli

      February 20 in Venezuela ⋅ ☀️ 82 °F

      A short walk from Buena Vista Inn and I'm indulging in some local favorites for lunch. A $5 Fried Chicken Meal, a Peach Drink, and an Apple desert to make sure that I contribute to my daily serving of fruit..Read more

    • Day 2

      A Welcome Sangria

      February 20 in Venezuela ⋅ ☀️ 82 °F

      For two nights, I planned to stay at the Buena Vista Inn, and for me, it was the right choice. Great service, friendly staff with safe and comfortable rooms. A delicious welcoming Sangria was a nice touch. Payment for everything can be done via Zelle.Read more

    • Day 2

      Airport Shuttle

      February 20 in Venezuela ⋅ ☀️ 84 °F

      Thanks to my hotel and with easy communications thru WhatsApp, my pickup at the airport goes flawless. En route to the hotel, we are following transportation for a visiting sports team, so I benefit from their Police escort.Read more

    • Day 5

      Crazy Caracas - Friday

      March 10, 2017 in Venezuela ⋅ ☀️ 17 °C

      Today I managed to get out and see and experience a lot more of the city. Early morning Joel managed to get some money for me and Sergio before going to work. Me and Serg then spent the whole day together! He took me round the city, on the subway, through the rough 'barrios', and to his appartment. I got a really good feel of life here for the locals, and could appreciate the constant struggle that Venezuelans face.
      Our highlight was taking the 'teleferico' cable car from the city to the top of Mount Avila. The incredible mountain separates Caracas from the Caribbean Sea, so you can imagine the views from the top were insane. We had some more local food at the top whilst taking in the views. I didnt take a phone or camera for fear of being robbed, and we got some dodgy buses to and from the cable car, as well as being hassled by various locals, and on entry i got charged ten times more for being a white European. So, I was constantly reminded of where I was...
      After the mountain we walked down the main commercial boulevard and through the city centre as the sun set. This was an experience in itself. The place was very busy and packed with people, desperate beggars, street sellers, and the corrupted police. I wouldn't feel safe if I was alone. It was around 7pm, and Sergio was explaining how everyone was rushing to get home, shops were closing, and the city disappears before it goes dark. After 7.30, you see no-one on the streets, the thriving city becomes a ghost town, thanks to its dreadful reputation at night. However, I can understand why; we saw an angry driver pull out a gun and point it down the street shouting in road rage, and this was earlier in broad daylight!
      Anyway, we arrived safely back at Joel's place after an amazing day together, and started the Friday night drinking before heading to Andrews house once again for a bit of a party. Rum, music, and Chinese takeaway saw us into the early hours and I had a great last night in Caracas.
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    • Day 6

      Week 1 - Caracas, the crazy capital...

      March 11, 2017 in Venezuela ⋅ ⛅ 23 °C

      Car Horns and tyre screeches, gunshots and police sirens. The sound of the concrete jungle that is the capital of a country in despair. A normal day in 2017 Caracas is chaotic. With the highest inflation rate of any country ever, Venezuelas economy looks beyond saving, which hits the capital hard. The middle class have left, businesses gone bankrupt, people are hungry and what little money they have is worthless. About 5 years ago the rare 100-Bolivar banknote was worth $20. 2 years ago it was worth 50¢. Now so common, it makes good toilet paper, with a value of 2¢. Most of the problems I have seen are because of this horrific situation, and it seems people are desperate, unhappy and just trying to survive. Large favellas called 'barrios' surround the city and are some of the most dangerous places in the world. I've seen these places from the safety of an unlicensed, 50 year-old broken fully-packed vehicle called a public bus. I've seen people routing through bins,  police forcing bribes, and even a gun pulled out of a car window in road-rage!

      However, if you see past the reality of these problems, you experience a city with charm, natural beauty, and some really cool people! Groups of brightly coloured Macaws, vultures, and tropical birds fly around the city and are very vocal. Towering palms, mango trees and thick vegetation line the streets, and in the local park there are iguanas, sloths and other wildlife. Caracas is in a beautuful valley, and separated from the Caribbean coast by the impressive coastal mountains and El Avila national park. I took a long cable car ride to the top of the Avila mountain with Sergio, a cool local Venezuelan who, like most people, is struggling to live and wants to leave the country. The views on both sides from a sunny 9,000ft were incredible, with the bright-blue carribean sea to the north, and the expansive  Caracas to the south. Being with Sergio for a couple of days was very eye-opening; I learnt a lot about the city, country, and the spanish language, but was constantly reminded of the problems Venezuelans face.

      Since arriving in Caracas, I have stayed with Joel, whos been in the city for 2 years, and is probably the coolest guy I've ever met. He works at the international school and has introduced me to so many amazing people; friends, colleagues and his family! It's been great meeting so many people, we've had some incredible food and a couple of great nights out. I'm very grateful to Joel for hosting and giving me all the help, and it's thanks to him for my amazing Caracas experience.

      I left England 6 days ago, and have had a great first week of travel. Thank you Vincent for hosting me in Lisbon, and thanks to Joel and all his friends in Caracas. I'll be back! Now it's time for a long overnight journey to East Venezuela, where the Orinoco Delta awaits...
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    • Day 89

      Weeks 12/13: Captured by Merida...

      June 2, 2017 in Venezuela ⋅ 🌧 21 °C

      I somehow spent another 2 amazing weeks in Merida before crossing the border to Colombia. Me and Maycon successfully made it to the Pan de azucar mountain peak on our second attempt. The hike to the mountain through the national park mountain valley was long, but the scenery beautiful, and we camped at 4,300m at the Base. You could feel the altitude, and the next day we woke up to a few inches of snow in a very cold tent. We realised we were high in the Andes, and after an exhausting climb in the snow, we made it to the cold windy summit (nearly 5000m), and I couldn't feel my fingers or toes. The same day we hiked some 6 hours in awesome weather all the way down to the culata valley where we luckily hitched a ride with a Venezuelan couple back to the city. We even bought some local 'mora' wine, drank on the journey and ate food with them back in Merida.

      On Thursday we met up with Isobel and her uni friends, and the 5 of us got the bus into a scenic valley and found a great spot of grass to chill out by a river. We chilled all day in the sun with music and Mora wine, and ate loads of food. That Night I went to play pool with my drunk hostel owner, Hugo.

      At the weekend I showed Maycon the incredible Botanical Gardens looking over the city, and we sat through 2 hours of spanish 'pirates of the carribean' in the cinema. Friday night there was a party with lots of people at the hostel for someone's birthday, and Saturday we had a BBQ with Hugo and his wife, cooking 4 enormous steaks for about 2 dollars. The same day, Maycon also got his first tattoo! We had met some tattoo artists the night before and they came back to the hostel for maycons spontaneous arm tattoo of Pink Floyd lyrics. She did an awesome job, and it was ridiculously cheap, but she misspelt a word..  hilarious.

      I got Ill again for the third time (diarrhoea) after the weekend, but we still got out and walked lots around the city; and through several protests. On Monday we bought tickets for a bus to Colombia the following day, and as we left the bus terminal, a large group of violent protesters came down the main road. All the buses that were in the terminal left at once and the place emptied, security Gates closed, and shops shut. I guess some protest groups of young males are notorious for looting and vandalism, so everyone flees... Anyway we went for food and to a local pool bar

      On our 'last day' in Merida, we took a bus 2 hours North to the highest point of the road (4,000m) and to the supposedly spectacular mount Aguila. It was shit. Overcast and freezing cold weather meant we couldn't see or feel anything. We still walked to the peak but it was pretty pointless. In the afternoon we went to the 'La Musuy' thermal water for the second time, and it didn't disappoint. Again, we were relaxing in a natural jacuzzi high in the mountains with an incredible view, music, food and lots of sun. This has to be my favourite place in Venezuela.

      We were supposed to leave for Colombia on Wednesday, but crazy Tony still owed us some money (which we had been asking for over a week), and Maycon refused to leave without it. So, we stayed in Merida another night, and went out to a club with a group of Hugos friends. Terrible drunk dancing to awful music and mosh pit circles was all I remember. We agreed to do the 'world record cable car' on our last day, so we got up early, bought Colombia bus tickets (for thursday) and got to the teleferico early. However, after buying tickets and waiting for Isobel to arrive we missed the last cable car. I'd paid $50 (being a tourist) and couldn't get a refund off the stubborn boss, so our only option was to come back the next day, which meant changing our bus tickets yet again. I began to think i was never going to leave Venezuela, but on the plus side we got the money that Tony owed us, and spent the day with Isobel and her sister around the town.

      My final day in Venezuela was awesome. We rode the world's highest and longest cable car to one of the highest points of the country (5000m) where it was seriously cold and we felt drunk from the altitude. It was a clear day in the mountains so the scenery and views were incredible all around. We later went out to the same night club, but had to leave drunk at 2am to catch our long bus to Colombia.

      My 90 days in Venezuela had come to an end, and what an incredible journey I've had through this unique country. On June 3rd I entered Colombia by walking accross the partially closed border at Cucuta, as I stood with my backpack looking forward to another 3 months in a new country...
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    • Day 77

      Week 11: What. A. Week.

      May 21, 2017 in Venezuela ⋅ ☀️ 31 °C

      What a week! After meeting my friend Maycon and getting smashed in the town at the weekend, we headed out of Merida on Monday morning to climb one of the tallest mountains in Venezuela. It was to be a normal 1 hour bus-ride followed by a 3 day hike, but that didn't happen thanks to protests.

      After walking to the very edge of the city and not seeing any buses (or many cars), we realised the one and only road North must be closed. Nevertheless, we continued to walk with our heavy backpacks along the incredible twisting valley road, trying desperately to hitchhike some of the 50km road ahead. Several armed 'motorbike special-forces' flew past, followed by an armoured truck and some other military cars. They were about the only vehicles who passed us, so we knew to expect something up ahead.

      We got lucky and hitched a few short rides in the back of pick-up trucks, before we came to the first of several street-blockades. Some were peaceful demonstrations; people chanting with signs, but others were not.. Someone had fallen an enormous tree across the road almost destroying a petrol station, and another protest further was like a scene from a film. There was a sharp bend in the road blocked by trees and cars on fire, and above stood hundreds of people atop a 50ft cliff. Me and Maycon came round the bend on foot and were greeted by a roar of chanting, molotov cocktails and beer bottles smashing on the ground in front of us. Luckily we were too far to be hit, and there was another route around by foot, but the military police would be in for a shock when they finally cleared the other protests and turned that corner. Surely enough, after 30 minutes more walking (and through more protests) we heard distant gunshots and explosions, and could only assume a war had broken out on that corner...

      It was getting late and after hours of walking and hitchhiking we were less than a quarter of the way to our destination. We came to a village where we jumped onto motorbike-taxis and began an incredible short journey through what looked like a battlefield. Us, 2 obvious tourists with large backpacks on the backs of motorbikes sped through and around the aftermath of several more violent protests; glass and debris, fires, fallen trees, burnt cars, an ambulance, military police and more; it felt like a war-zone. The journey was short as we couldn't get round a fallen tree in the next town. There was chaos everywhere, with cars and people stuck, all waiting for a man with a hand-axe trying to cut the enormous tree into two. We climbed over it and continued down the road until it became dark. We had only made it half way to the 'start' of our mountain hike, and we were knackered. After climbing a random side road up a hill we found a place to camp and began setting up out tents in the now rainy dark.

      Within a few minutes, a confused man with a machete came down the hill and told us we couldn't camp here. We explained our day to him and after realising we were backpackers, he showed us to a safer spot up the hill near his farm. He turned out to be a really nice guy and invited us into his home for coffee! We dried off and spent the next few hours chatting with him and his family. In the end we slept in his house in a spare bedroom and he kindly gave us a lift for free to our destination early the next morning! I offered some money which he refused, and we started our hike to 'La musuy', a famous thermal pool on route to the mountains.

      After only a couple hours hike into the sierra, and we couldn't believe what we discovered. After the highs of an incredible day before, we arrived at the natural hot-spring tucked into a beautiful valley 3,200m up in the mountains. Of course we stripped off and jumped in. Because of the altitude and crap weather, the morning was cold, so the hot water felt incredible. We would end up spending 4 hours chilling in nature's finest hot tub listening to music and eating food, along with 4 wild dogs for company. When we finally left to continue into the mountains, the rain got worse and we got soaked. After taking 2 hours to climb only a kilometer or so with the dogs leading the way, we were so cold, wet and exhausted that we couldn't carry on. We found a great spot and set up camp before falling asleep almost straight away.

      The next morning we descended down the beautiful valley in sunny weather, heading back for the main road. Thankfully there were no protests so we caught a bus back, and we're in Merida by the afternoon. We had failed the hike by a long way, our stuff was wet, and I got diarrhea, but it was an awesome and eventful trip from start to finish...

      On Thursday we went on a trip with crazy tour-guide Tony to the largest lake in South America: Lago Maracaibo. We went with 2 other backpackers; Miguel (spanish) and Hiromoto (Japanese) in a large 4x4 through the mountains and towards the lake. After, we took an awesome boatride in the afternoon sun down a jungle river that resembled the Orinoco. We saw hundreds of tropical birds, falcons, eagles, monkeys, and even a bright green iguana swimming accross the river and diving under our boat. The river opened up into what looked like the ocean, and we arrived at our home for the night: a huge open lodge built above the shallow lake, probably a kilometer from the shore. Here we were going to see to famous 'Catatumbo Lightning', an atmospheric phenomenon that originates from a mass of storm clouds and occurs during 260 nights a year and up to 280 times per hour for 10 hours.

      First, we did some fishing (for dinner) and between us caught over 30 catfish and bass which we later cooked. After food, swimming and an awesome sunset, it was time for the show. Well, not quite. The sky was perfectly clear, the water still, and the stars incredible. Instead, we slept in our hammocks and awoke around 3am to completely overcast skies, strong winds and heavy rain. The storm had begun, and we certainly saw a lot of lightning, but unfortunately it wasn't quite the show we expected as it was too far away and behind a lot of cloud. It was still an incredible experience to be so exposed in the middle of a dark lake to only see the water illuminated every few seconds by the flashes of an enormous tropical storm.

      The next day we returned to Merida, and what a day it was. I woke up to an incredible sunrise over the now calm lake, and we caught a boat back through the rivers to our jeep. On the drive back we were stopped by national guard. who checked our passports, and they were confused to say the least... In a country where tourists are rare, we were one English, one Brazilian, one French, one Japanese, one Spanish, and 2 Venezuelans. After some 30 minutes interrogation and amusement, we paid a small bribe and continued up into the Andes, where I realised I had diarrhoea.

      We stopped for a great Lunch in a mountain town a couple of hours outside of Merida, before taking one of the the most memorable and worst car journeys of my life. This mountain 'road' was fucking rough, and even in a huge 4x4 it hurt like hell. I felt very ill, and the road made it even worse, but just when I thought I was going to explode, we pulled up to an awesome waterfall, the sun came out, and we refreshed in natures cold shower. After, we bought some fresh coconut to eat and tony got some cacao from a random farm to use for making chocolate. Another horrendous hour passed and we finally reached tarmac, but also an enormous protest.

      We were less that 30 minutes from Merida (and a toilet) but the only road into the city was blocked by mayhem. A group of people stood around large fires and debris purposely blocking the road, and there were queues of cars on both sides for as far as you could see. Police and special forces were getting involved and It u in the baking sun to luckily get past the protests, but I left the jeep several times to vomit and shit at the side of the road as my stomach got worse (I also had to wipe my arse with banknotes as I had no toilet paper). However, the day was far from over, as we pulled up to a paragliding place. After a long drive and a long day feeling like shit, me and Maycon jumped off a mountaintop and paraglided high above the river valley while the sun set over the mountains. It was an awesome end to the trip and the views were incredible.

      On Saturday we went to a small zoo set in a steep mountain valley with waterfalls and big trees . In the evening we discovered a lively reggae bar with pizza and stayed all night drinking beer. Sunday morning at 11am there was a Football match in the city's stadium; Merida vs Caracas. Me, Maycon and our Japanese friend went to the game with Isobel, a cool local we met the night before. The match was good, a 1-1 draw, and after we walked around the city lazily and met another friend before going for food and more drinks at the reggae bar. What a week.
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    You might also know this place by the following names:

    Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela, Venezuela, ቬንዙዌላ, Benezuela, فنزويلا, Venesuela, Венесуэла, Венецуела, Venezuwela, ভেনিজুয়েলা, ཝེ་ནི་ཛུའེ་ལ།, Venecuela, Veneçuela, Venezuela nutome, Βενεζουέλα, Venezuelo, Venetsueela, ونزوئلا, Wenesuwelaa, Vénézuéla, Venezuèla, Veiniséala, A Bheiniseala, વેનેઝુએલા, Benezuwela, ונצואלה, वेनेज़्वेला, Վենեսուելա, Venesúela, ベネズエラ共和国, ვენესუელა, វេនេហ្ស៊ុយឡា, ವೆನೆಜುವೆಲಾ, 베네주엘라, Venezuêla, Veneswela, Venetiola, Venzwera, Venézuela, ເວເນຊູເອລາ, Venecuēla, Venezoelà, വെനിസ്വേല, व्हेनेझुएला, Venezwela, ဗင်နီဇွဲလား, भेनेजुएला, Veneçuèla, ଭେନଜୁଏଲା, Beneswela, Wenezuela, Biniswila, वेनेजुयेला, Venezzuela, Venezueläa, Fenisuweela, Venezuelë, வெனஜுவேலா, వెనుజువేలా, ประเทศเวเนซุเอลา, Venisuela, ۋېنېسۇئېلا, Венесуела, وینزوئیلا, Vê-nê-zu-ê-la (Venezuela), Venesolän, ווענעזועלע, Orílẹ́ède Fẹnẹṣuẹla, 委內瑞拉, i-Venezuela

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