We started early Saturday morning, though not early enough for Ivan's liking. He had wanted to leave closer to 5:30 am, but by the time a water pipe burst in the garage right above our car and then we had to turn around twice after we finally got on the road because we forgot Ivan's sweatshirt and then his phone, we really got out going closer to 6:45. We trekked down the autopista and passed Valencia heading towards Morrocoy, the beach we went to in January. We took an exit shortly after Valencia and then boom, suddenly we are on a street lined with vendors selling nothing but fish empanadas, beer and bathing suits. Ten minutes later, I was enjoying my beer and empanada....at 9am. It was around then I figured it was going to be a good day. We headed down the road about 15 more minutes and then we stopped at a dock where we could park our car and take a short motorboat ride to our final destination- Isla Larga. When I saw the cola (line) to get on the boat, I suggested that we buy more beer. By our mutual fourth beer, we were on the boat and shortly thereafter, the beautiful, sparkling white beach that faced the coast. Mountains were everywhere and the water was crystal clear. There was nothing more that I needed....except maybe an ice cream, which I got almost immediately from a man walking around selling ice cream out of a Styrofoam cooler. We hung out on the beach for a while and then decided to take the trek underwater to visit a sunken ship that literally was still sticking up half way on the beach. The boat sank in the 1940's and despite years of rust, was pretty well intact. As soon as we went down, I could see everything. The water was so clear and there was just enough sun to see clearly. It was SO COOL to see how the sea life had inhabited the ship. We swam around for quite a while just enjoying the awesome adventure of exploring a ship wreck.
One fish and two beers later, we were completely out of money and on our way to unknown lands. Ivan let me play my music the entire way and I was singing and hanging my feet out the window and basically having the time of my life. We turned in La Victoria and headed up towards the mountains. And by mountains, I also mean treacherous mountain roads with no barriers and barely wide enough to fit two cars. Ivan is a pro at navigating these roads, but none the less I was properly terrified and chose simply to look at the beautiful mountain views and not the winding road directly ahead. Around 8pm, we finally pulled into our destination- El Jarillo. EL Jarillo is another German colonized town similar to Colonia Tovar and is just right over the mountain from el Colonia. It's much smaller than Tovar with less of the touristy shops and such, which meant invariably that I liked it much better. When we arrived at our posada, I immediately noticed how bright the stars were, and how clear. We can hardly see the stars in Caracas, so it was amazing to see them shining so brightly on a moonless night.
We checked in and got to the room and there waiting for me were a beautiful bouquet of flowers and German snacks! Do I have a wonderful man or what!?!?! The room was lovely and even had a balcony overlooking the valley! Despite being completely exhausted, we decided to shower and go back out to the courtyard of the posada to spend just a few minutes enjoying the stars before we totally passed out. We were so glad we did because as soon as we got out the moon rose. It was a gorgeous orange harvest moon and it was spectacular as it rose up from mountains on the horizon. We were both so wowed and just sat cuddling on the stone wall in the courtyard enjoying the beauty of such a gorgeous evening.
The next morning, I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to get Ivan out of bed. To be fair, it was so comfortable and we were both still tired- the beach and beer really take it out of you! But we managed to get up and out of the posada around nine. Ivan first wanted to take me to a huge Virgin Mary statue that stood on top of the highest mountain in Jarillo. When we got there I could see why this had to be the first stop. The view was INCREDIBLE. Just mountains upon mountains and directly below us, the adorable little village of Jarillo, nestled into the nooks and crannies of the mountains. It was breath taking. However, I was also starving, and there was a little German restaurant right smack next to the Mary statue, so I made an embarrassingly fast bee-line to the closest table I could find. I immediately ordered hot chocolate with cream, strawberries with cream and the sausage breakfast. Then another hot chocolate and cream because the first one was so good and came in such a small cup. It was an amazing breakfast. Like, amazing. And then I could really go out and enjoy the beautiful view!
While we were eating, Ivan signed me up to go paragliding. I wasn't really sure what I was signing up for, but given that I don't have a fear of heights and and follow the life motto of "try everything once but hard drugs", I figured I could give it a go. The flights started around 12:30, so in the meantime we spent some time exploring the town. There really isn't much around. A very pretty church, two very small centro commericals, some restaurants. Of course, everything is in German-styled architecture and every street was marked by a cute little wooden sign with Germanic writing. It was quaint, cute, and good for the soul. As we paseo'ed around, we came across a sign for "fresas con Polar". Polar is the native Venezuela beer, so I was intrigued. We stopped and decided to give this concoction a try. It was basically like a strawberry smoothie with beer, and it was unreal delicious. We walked around the property enjoying our fresas con Polar and admiring the gorgeous architecture and gardens of the property. It was one of the most beautiful hacienda's I had seen, which so many beautiful German details mixed with artsy trappings like wine barrel seats and mosaic tile. It was a lovely place and we decided to come back and enjoy it more for lunch, regardless if we were hungry or not!
We headed back to the top of the valley (which only took about ten minutes, even while navigating the steep, unforgiving roads) and arrived in time to pay and wait for my turn to paraglide. No instructions or liability forms or introductions. Just pay, wait and hope that these people have good equipment and know what they are doing. Awesome.
As we watched people start to take off, I began to realize what I had signed up for. They would basically strap you in a backpack kit, connect you and your backpack kit to the captain of the "vessel" and then you would take a running leap off the cliff and hope that the parachute dragging behind you caught the wind and took you in the air. Awesome.
After I watched a few more people go, my tensions began to ease and I started to get excited. The guys definitely knew what they were doing and the wind and weather were great for this. The parachutes glided around the valley with ease, up and down, catching the various airflows and thrilling their passengers, which so far had mainly been Russian women tourists who squealed with delight so loud we could hear them meters up in the atmosphere. More quickly than I expected, it was my time to go. Before I could blink they had strapped me in and on to my guide, gave me some instructions in Spanish that Ivan barely had time to translate and then wooo we were off before I even had time to get a running start. The wind took us up right away and my captain navigated us out and over the valley. It was incredible. I was weightless, I was flying, I was hanging suspended hundreds of meters about the earth and I wasn't even scared. It almost seemed natural. The wind must of been just perfect, because we swung this way and that, over the valley, over the mountain we had launched from, way, WAY high up in the sky, even over the highest peaks I could see. And the peaks went on and on and on as I realized that we were indeed in the middle of a huge and breathtaking mountain range. It was all just magical. And I could totally tell why the Russian girls were squealing, because that's about all you can do- just squeal with delight. After was seemed like a short while, we landed almost right back where we took of. Ivan said I was up there longer (and higher!) than anyone else, but it really hadn't seemed that long. It was just amazing. I was so happy I had tried it!
Ivan and I hung around the mountain and got a beer at the restaurant. Ivan said I got so high he almost had a heart attack and really needed a beer. Poor guy. So we enjoyed each other's company and the beautiful weather and hung out for a while. Then, as we promised ourselves, trekked back down the mountain, back to our frescas con Polar place and had another fresca con Polar and some native Venezuelan soup called Mondongo. Even though we weren't really hungry, the soup was really yummy and we finished it all off with relish. After picking up some requisite homemade German mustard, we sadly departed the beautiful village of Jarillo. Ivan had learned of a quicker way to get home through Los Teques and we were shocked to realize how close we indeed were from the outskirts of Caracas. In under two hours we were home, conveniently just in time to watch the sunset from my balcony.
What an amazing weekend. And what an amazing boyfriend I have for planing the perfect weekend! He could not have picked things for me to do that would have made me any happier. And I was thrilled to get to spend some time just with him for a weekend. I could not have asked for anything more....expect maybe one more strawberries and creme!
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