In the beginning there was Tracey and there was Gordon and there was Jackie and there was Walli and we all had a fall break. We were/are quite the band of misfits, with our one commonality being that we all work at CIC and all needed something to do for a vacation. Walli is a math teacher and grandmother of 16 who doesn't eat meat and is a better hiker/climber/swimmer/adventurer than I could ever hope to be. Jackie loves chocolate, dogs, and adventure, but not bugs and not sleeping in the jungle during an earth quake. Gordon is our magic Scot who prefers beer to water and somehow managed not to get tired of women after spending eight days with the same three. So, us four decided that Angel Falls would be our destination. Salto Angel, as it is called in Spanish, is the world's largest waterfall. It lies on the northwest side of Canaima National Park inside of what the indigenous Pemon people call a Tepuy, which is basically one of these fantastically awesome mesas that just rise out of nowhere in the middle of the Venezuelan savanna. Had you asked me what a Tepuy was before last week, I would have looked at you, blinked, and said "Lo siento, otra vez?" Basically, all four of us walked into this trip completely blind. Gordon met a guy in a bar who set up the trip. We literally transferred $900 to a stranger and hoped for the best. He sent us an eight day itinerary that said something about Kavac, Orinoco, Cuidad Bolivar and airplanes, but as we discovered at the beginning of the trip, none of us actually took the time to read the itinerary. All we knew was that we were going to Angel Falls...and some other places. So we packed some bags and took off on Saturday afternoon for an unknown adventure.
As the state department can tell you, the most adventurous place in the world is the Caracas airport. One does need a bit of savvy to navigate it. Unfortunately for us, the only one of the four of us who can speak any sort of decent Spanish is Gordon, but by the time we arrived at the airport, he was already drunk. Our driver told us that our flight had been cancelled, but not to worry because we were flying into another city and then would be bused to the correct airport. Somehow this ominous proclamation didn't bother us, particularly Gordon who just wanted to get through security so he could find a bar and continue drinking. And we did just that- found a bar. After Gordon put his ticket on his finished plate and I went and rescued it from the befuddled waitress, we made our way to the gate listed on our ticket, only to find that the gate was in no other way labelled, and that our flight continued to be cancelled with no further information. Fast-forward two hours later, after much confusion, yelling in Spanish, and Gordon's impeccable ability to speak near perfect Spanish while drunk, we made it on a plane. We weren't really sure where it was going. But we figured hey, let's just see where we end up, because it's better than the Caracas airport.
We landed in a place called Puerto Ordaz, a city that was, as we were told, an hour from Ciudad Bolivar, where we were supposed to be. And indeed there a bus was waiting, which we promptly plopped onto and fell asleep, as it was rounding 11pm by the time we got on. Lo and behold, an hour later we were at the Cuidad Bolivar airport, and even more to our surprise, there was someone waiting to take us to our hotel! We checked in, had a few beers at the bar, passed out, got no more than four hours of sleep and were up again to head back to the airport for our flight to the Village of Canaima, the launching point to head to Angel Falls.
I needed coffee. The restaurant in the hotel was not awake yet, and after getting the airport, I realized it was so small, there wasn't even a kiosk selling coffee. This made me very sad. In this state, I went through security, where they confiscated the three bottles of rum that Gordon and I brought. Something about Canaima being a "state park". I was a shell of myself. No coffee? No rum? Then, the asshole took my bug spray. NO AEROSOLS ON THE PLANE MY ASS!!!! I didn't no how to say that in Spanish, so I fumed to myself, until I saw our plane. Then, I silently thanked the asshole for having our safety in mind. They were putting us on an old six seater plane!
I was fairly terrified. I had never been on a plane that small and after all, this is Venezuela and I was none-to-confident in the safety checks done for these sorts of planes. But off we went and after the initial fear, I relaxed and realized how cool it was that heck, the four of us had our own gosh darn plane! Over the city we went and into what was clearly the park, as there was literally nothing to see but forests and plains. This went on for about an hour. Then, out of nowhere, the first Tepuy. It was far away, but clearly taller than the altitude of the plane. It was amazing- this huge, tree covered plateau just sitting there triumphantly, standing tall throughout time immemorial. Before I had time to consider its grandeur, we were passing a mass of waterfalls to my left and then just landing in the midst of all of it. Just as I started to convince myself that we had flown to Narnia instead of the innards of Venezuela, we were hustled off our plane and into a little sitting area where, by the grace of God, they had coffee. I got a coffee and a pepsi, for good measure. Then we were hustled again onto a bus. After a five minute ride into the village, we reached a lodging area were we packed a smaller camping bag and locked all of our belongings in a closet. Had I had time to reflect and take inventory of my life it would have looked something like this: "I'm in the Venezuelan bush, all of my money and my passport are in a bag locked in a closet that I have no idea who has the key to, I have no idea where I am, I think I am going to see a waterfall, I have no idea how long I will be there or what this journey will entail, my camera battery is dying, I hope I packed my headlamp and now I really have to pee because I just drank a lot of liquid." Since I had no time to reflect, I simply got back on another bus.
Five minutes later, we found ourselves at a dock with long wooden canoes with motors attached to the back. I had the wherewithal to realize at that point that the man who had met our plane was going to be our bold and fearless guide for the journey to Salto Angel. His name is Churun, he is a native Pemon and he had been leading groups for over eight years. I felt in good hands. I learned later that the Pemon are the native tribe that lives around the Auyan Tepuy, the largest Tepuy in that part of the park, and the one we got to see for most of our journey. I also learned later that he was a terrific salsa dancer, but that story comes later. For now, we are in a boat, with our bags covered in a tarp, my iphone in a ziplock bag and 8 other people joining us. There was a strange couple from Germany who literally spent every available moment smoking, a thirty-something couple with an nine year old daughter, who ironically enough are teachers at another international school in Caracas, and a group of three Aussies who ended up being absolutely delightful. The woman of that group was also named Tracey with an E, so I liked her from the start. So together, our band of misfits grew to 12, plus Churun and a boat captain, and off we were down the river. About six minutes in, I had the unfortunate idea to ask how long our trip would be, assuming it would be somewhere around the thirty minute mark. Three hours. Yes, gentle readers, three hours in a wooden boat with ten strangers. It made the six seater look like Rolls Royce. Really, at that point, we were so excited about the journey and the absolutely gorgeous surroundings we didn't really care. Every direction you looked was absolutely marvelous. Palm trees and mountains dotted the landscape, the foliage around the river banks was lovely and the river itself was the color of coca-cola, dyed reddish brown by the tannins of the trees. It was just such a neat way to travel, we didn't really notice the numb butts or water spray....at least until the second hour. Around the second hour, Jackie and I got silly and sang, while meanwhile every time we saw a waterfall someone would ask if we were there yet. Waterfalls were EVERYWHERE. We were surrounded by Tepuy and around every turn was another waterfall. The view was just absolutely majestic. See the pic!
I think I will have to stop here, as it is time for me to go to bed, but don't worry, there are still seven days to go!
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