The Road To Georgetown, Guyana

Bad roads always end and good roads are never long enough. That phrase kept popping into my mind as I had just completed the first 10 miles of my current Lethem, Guyana to Georgetown, Guyana 300 mile road trip. Describing it as a road would be generous as my map kept referring to it as a cattle trail.

Cattle trail or not, it is the only way to cross Guyana from south to north and Lethem is one of only two ways to arrive in Guyana by land. The other is from Suriname in the east. Guyana the only English speaking country in South America considers itself “Natures Gift to the World”. “Green Gold”, as they describe it here and well, it might just be the most green gifted country on the planet.

The first day on the road was a long 75 miles across an almost continuous washboard surface. The vibrations just about killed me and the bike. I am absolutely positive that each one of those small little ridges running across the road was thoughtfully placed by the Amerindian community to keep people like me out. The road crossed the open savannah, where the big sky surrounded me, then into marshlands that I could see would be impassable after a good rain. The entire area was teeming with birds of all types, butterflies would surround me and try to fly with me as I ventured along. Sometimes I would stop where there were maybe 1,000 of them and just watch them flutter. That day I met 1 minibus, 1 truck, 1 car and a guy pedaling a bicycle, god knows where he was going. 

There are 30 or so small bridges to cross on the road in various states of disrepair. The entire area is without electricity, drinking water and of course that daily essential, petrol. Towards mid afternoom I arrived at Annai. A small Amerindian community that promotes eco-tourism. I was the only tourist and I did appreciate the warm meal and bed I was given. That night when the generator fell silent and all the lights went out the stars shone brighter than anywhere I have been. The night was filled with the cacophony of insects, frogs and the occasional small animal that became food for the next mammal up the food chain.

After a hearty breakfast it was back to the road. It was gradually shifting. Then almost abruptly I left the savannah and entered the rainforest. Guyana being the size of the state of Idaho is a small country but it has 85% of its land in virgin rainforest. More than all of Central America, it ranks in the top 4 throughout the rest of the world. One area alone the Iwokrama Forest which the road dissects is over a million acres grand. As I continued, the road narrowed and you could almost feel the jungle breathing next to you. I kept thinking, up ahead, another 75 miles was the ferry which I had to be at before 5 to catch the last boat of the day. All was going as planned until I arrived at that section of road where I said, “Not Now”. Little did I know that the stretch of sand ahead would last 15 miles but I had no choice. Suffering from the chronic condition of motorcyclus overweightus and despising sand even more than mud which is just up from crossing rivers, I went ahead. Four hours later and after several sand portages, with two hours being spent digging out of a sand trap, I emerged on the other side. Terra Firma, Sanda Loosa be gone.

Guyana has a population of only 750,000 with most living along the coasts and the rivers which are its main thoroughfares. The people are 50% East Indian, 40% African and the last 10% are Portuguese, Chinese, Amerindian (9 indigenous tribes) and European. The population figures have stayed the same for decades due to the continuing brain drain. This leaves a lower class, a very small middle class and the wealthy. New buildings and collapsing wood structures exist side by side. Open markets abound in the capital and the port is right in the middle of downtown. All of this creates a level of activity that makes Guyana feel more Caribbean than South American.

THE FERRY CROSSING

DOROTHY'S PLACE

Back to the road. So I stood waiting on the side of the river that the ferry wasn’t. It was a good distance away and I didn’t detect any movement on the other side. It finally came over for the last time and deposited me on the other side. There was a workers camp there and a fry fish place run by Dorothy who had lived there for 19 years. The fish and saltine crackers were excellent with a side of ketchup, the accommodations were a bit on the sparse side though. Yes, this would be a night sitting upright in a chair, outside with a kazillion skeetters. It was eerily quiet compared to the previous night. So quiet you could hear a mouse pissing on a cotton ball. The next morning I was one large wet welt. Things could always be worse; I could have been stuck on the other side of the river with the puma and jaguar stalking me.

Guyana is fabulously rich in its flora and fauna. Some of its prevalent animals are the Harpy Eagle with up to a 6 foot wingspan, freshwater otters, black caiman up to 15 feet, anacondas, jaguars, pumas, electric eels that can pack up to 500 volts, the Arapaimar (the world’s largest prehistoric scaled freshwater fish (up to 15 feet and weighing 440 lbs), 4 of the worlds 8 endangered turtle species, unusual birds, parrots, toucans, monkeys and giant anteaters, tapirs, armadillos, oversized rodents called capybara, herds of wild boars that can number in the hundreds, poisonous and constricting snakes, and last the infamous candiru that has been known to lodge itself in the urethras of urinating swimmers (removal requires surgery). So don’t pee while swimming. The current count is 225 species of mammals, 880 species of reptiles and amphibians, 815 species of birds, and 6500 species of plants. One of which the giant bromeliad can grow up to six feet in height. Saving its water it provides an aquatic habitat within its leaves for a tiny golden frog that spends its entire life in one plant.

Today the road started as hard packed clay with sharp jagged stones protruding from its surface. Occasionally a torn, ripped and shredded tire would be lying by the roads edge as a reminder of the sacrifices made to the tire god Gomo which we must all pay tribute to. I just prayed it wouldn’t be my day to make an offering. There was still just minimal traffic on the road and day two I had seen 5 vehicles. Then two things occurred almost simultaneously it started to rain and the battery light on CoCo came on. The clay became slick and occasionally the kilometer long mud pit would appear. Slipping and a sliding thru these areas was a joy. What do you call 500 potholes in a tropical rainstorm? A lake with holes in its bottom! The battery light was another matter and as past experience had shown could stop the bike in its tracks. 

I had crazy thoughts of the bike dying in the middle of the forest no possible jumpstart in sight, me being food for some smaller mammal with pointy teeth. Dashing those thoughts aside, maybe I would just catch one of those 500 volt electric eels and only needing 12 volts from it, quite possibly just a quick look at the battery by the eel would be all it would take to get going again. Crazy thoughts, I didn’t even know how to catch an eel. 

The road continued through the Mabura Hills area. An area where the Chinese have taken over management of the logging industry, along with bauxite and some sugar cane production. Marbura Hills is infamous for its red dust. It was everywhere and when it found you, the bike and everything else, it stuck like glue. The bike is still red and so am I.

Guyana has been fabled as the location of El Dorado for centuries. Sir Walter Raleigh searched tirelessly for Queen Elizabeth in the 15^th century and today gold is a large part of the economy. Illegal wildcat mining exists alongside legitimate conscientious concerns. On a separate trip to Kaieteur Falls (the largest single drop falls in the world, 2200 visitors per year) you could see the open scars in the forest from illegal mining operations. The use of cyanide a cheaper more dangerous method of gold processing is illegal. Still some wildcat operations use it and it can find its way into the rivers.

Guyana has taken the wise step to partner with Norway recently in the implementation of its Low Carbon Development strategy or LCDS. Guyana has offered to place its entire rainforest under internationally verifiable protection, provided that the rights of all Guyanese are not undermined and its national sovereignty is left intact. This will widen the crack for ecotourism to more fully develop and become a sustainable source of revenue for the country. Norway will provide Guyana with 50 million dollars over 40 years to offset their carbon footprint. Guyana has been recognized around the world for its efforts in preventing deforestation and through the LCDS plan Guyana will inevitably unlock the assets of their “Green Gold”.

There it was ahead of me, tar, as bumpy as you can imagine maybe 1000 years old but it was asphalt. After my usual ritual of kissing the pavement, I gave thanks for my safe passage and reluctantly looked forward to when I would leave Guyana following the same route back.

Angel Falls

So there I was staring at Jimmy Angel's twin engined Flamingo type aircraft sitting in front of the Ciudad Bolivar's airport. Jimmy Angel back in 1937 while searching for that gold laden vein of ore  rediscovered Angel Falls for the modern world. Of course the members of the Pemon the indigenous people living there always knew it was there. Jimmy tried to safely land atop the vast Auyantepui and was successful, but found after he nose dived his aircraft into the soft peat that takeoff was next to impossible. After the crash, he his wife and two companions began an 11 day odyssey with very limited supplies.

They had to scale down from the heights of Auyantepui. He and his companions made it, but his aircraft stayed atop until the 1970's and the falls were named after him.

Auyantepui is situated some 8600 feet above sea level, covers approximately 270 square miles and is the birthplace of Angel Falls. The term Tepui in Pemon means mountain and the Tepuis can harbor powerful mischievous entities or spirits that command respect and fear.  

The entire area was designated as Canaima National Park in 1962. It comprises 30,000 square kilometers and is the size of Switzerland.  Canaima is a word of Pemon origin and is typically associated with death or disease. When the indigenous Pemon die or become ill they say it is due to Canaima. The Tepuis provide the source of the many great rivers that flow through Venezuela. 

The Orinoco (which has the largest delta in the world flowing into the Atlantic) and the Caroni River and its basin which supply Venezuela with 72% of its hydroelectric power. Many smaller rivers also flow from the Tepuis creating a vast network of watershed areas allowing Venezuela to be considered one of the worlds top bird watching destinations.

To visit Angel Falls you have to board a single engined Piper or Beech craft and fly for about an hour to reach the village of Canaima. There are no roads to this village and actually not much development either. Canaima is a Pemon village and they seem to have the rights for the business side of all tourist activities. 

You spend your first night in Canaima and have a chance to see the beautiful lagoon that the village is situated on. 

Facing the lagoon are 5 or 6 waterfalls that at the time we visited were flowing exuberantly to say the least. Your guides take you over and around a series of undeveloped trails pointing out flora, fauna and the marching venomous black ants underfoot. You only get a fever for 24 hours, so there really isn't anything to worry about. We stopped by a termite dwelling and our guide opened up the top with a stick, stuck his hand in and started eating them alive. I had told the other members of my group that I would also partake but when the time came I had really lost my appetite. Of course I was coerced into keeping my word and placed my hand into the hole and came out with 20 or so small frantic termites. I quickly got them into my mouth and began chewing before they could crawl out. They were absolutely delightful and had the flavor of mint. 

On the side. The water in the rivers surrounding us is brown and  laced with a high content of tannins that work as a natural mosquito larvae killer. There are three different colored rivers in South America. Clear and originating in the Andes, typically called young rivers, black which are heavily fortified with decaying organic material and the muddy brown ones that have sediment and also organic material. I even saw a red one recently flowing over a bed of Jasper.

So on we continued not really knowing what lay in store for us around the next turn. We began descending in between two of the waterfalls and came out along the bottom of one called Sapo Falls or Frog Falls. We were told at this point to change into our swim suits. Everyone drew a quick gasp when they saw my black  speedo, which recently had been purchased used from a Venezuelan sailor. I took that as a sign of approval as we lined up on a trail abutting the side of the falls. 

There was one rope to hold on to, lots of vines and roots and many boulders to work around. The path led directly behind the falls. At first the water came as a light mist changing to a spray, then it became a torrent and then it became dark, very dark, with water hitting you from all directions. You struggled to keep moving forward pulling yourself along with the rope. The rocks on your right and the torrent of water touching your left shoulder. The air was being sucked out by the force of the water all around us. Needless to say we made it but everyone said that not knowing where the middle was each had considered turning back at one point or another. Afterwards the best way I could think of describing it was a cross between being in a earthquake and a submarine when the hull bursts. It was a fabulous experience. Here is a short video of the falls from the front side.

The following day our group of ten, a family of 5 from France, 3 Brits and a woman from Switzerland all climbed to a point on the river above the falls we had explored the previous day. There waiting for us was an expertly hewn log boat boasting a 48 HP Yamaha outboard. Our bags were wrapped and stored and we set out on our four hour journey up the river Carao.

I was placed in the front I think because being the tallest they figured I could block the water from hitting the other passengers. Dutifully before leaving I stood and announced that no matter what happened up river,  they all had my permission, if things took a turn for the worse, to eat me. After seeing me in that speedo the previous day several passengers commented that I didn't have a lot of meat on my bones. Well, anyhow I think some of the group were relieved that they now had an additional source of protein other than the few chickens we were bringing along.

We departed and didn't go far before we had a first portage. The rapids were too severe to allow us to travel this part of the trip in the boat. It was raining and we completed the half an hour portage without a problem. Up the river we went. The Tepuis rising majestically around us. The river snaked back and forth as the motorman expertly navigated us thru rapids and up cataracts, around hidden rocks all the while the boat slowly filled with water.

Angel Falls or Kerepakupai Meru as it is known to the Pemon was suddenly in view as we rounded one last bend. 

The boat stopped on a rock pile in the middle of the river, we all got off and recrossed the river on foot. There an unmarked trail led off into the jungle. For one  hour you climb up and up in one of the densest jungles I have walked in. I was beginning to appreciate more and more the daunting task that Jimmy Angel faced 73 years prior. Over roots, around boulders, thru small streams we climbed until finally the trail ended and you scampered on top of a rock viewpoint. No railings, no benches just about as natural as it could be. The ten of us were the only ones there and all of us fell silent.

Angel Falls at 980 meters (3215 feet) is the tallest multi drop waterfall in the world. Kaietur Falls in Guyana is the tallest single drop. Our visit was notable for the absence of any clouds and other visitors. The falls are so high that the water is a mist as it reaches the ground. We could feel it blowing onto us. All of us sat quietly and contemplated the sheer majesty of what we were seeing. It was incredible.

We returned to the river and found our encampment for the night.

We had toilets an outdoor shower and our choice of hammocks, all under a roof to protect us from the rain. 

The next day we shot down the river at twice the speed and we actually had a wetter ride back. It was an incredible three days that I would love to repeat. So if you ever have a chance, for 300 or so bucks, including your flight, meals and accommodations you can spend a while exploring one of our planets most awe-inspiring places.

Venezuela and Hugo!

The first thing I did of course before leaving Colombia for Venezuela was to knock off all of the tiles on the corner of the hotel I was  staying in Maicao, Colombia. On the morning of my departure I was taking Coco out of her overnight storage area and cut the corner a little sharply. Maybe 16 or so tiles hit the sidewalk and boy did I feel like an idiot when her rear storage case caught the corner. Not only because so many people gathered to watch the aftermath all shaking their heads but because this hotel had been so nice to me with everything they had done. They even remembered me being from Minnesota. So I got on the bike and drove away as quickly as possible! Not really. 

I told them that I would definitely pay for my mistake even though upon inspection I couldn't figure out what was really holding the tiles up to begin with. After about an hour of negotiation, which entailed several calls to the owner and the opinions of many of the Colombians on the street, the desk clerk looking rather apprehensive told me the charge would be $9.50. I paid the $9.50 enthusiastically, got on the bike, drove off while everybody waited to see what I was going to hit next. Ya! Like many things that  corner came right out of nowhere.

I drove straight to the main plaza. Here amidst a market were the currency traders. By the way, this town Maicao has the reputation of being the smuggling capital of Colombia. Goods going back and forth to Venezuela and Central America, coming in by boat everything seemed to make their way here. Electronics, clothing, shoes and of my interest, currency trading. The town has a very rough physical presence with trash and garbage seemingly everywhere. I watched a semi pull up with its flat bed loaded with bags of cement. I estimated maybe 1000 bags all unloaded by two sweating guys. But I was here to do some serious money changing. I would be in Venezuela lets see, maybe 30 days. Gas is cheaper than water, so that's not an expense ( 28 cents my first 8 gallon tank full). So I estimated I would need 40 bucks a day, plus a little extra or $1500 dollars worth of Bolivars. Currently the official rate was around 4000 to the dollar or the amount you would get using your ATM card.

 

When we were here before Kristi managed to coerce almost 8200 Bolivars from the pockets of the traders. Me, well I only rated 7200. So after consulting with a half dozen of them I resigned myself to the fact I just wasn't quite as good looking. The deal was struck amidst a flurry of solar powered calculations and a number was shown to me.  The number filled up the entire calculators screen and had to be recalculated several times before I was assured it was correct. It was so hot the sweat was pouring off my head and the calculators. Ten million Bolivars and some change were soon to be coming my way. I asked for big bills which I think he understood to mean a lot of bills.

The trader opened his table drawer and realizing he didn't have enough Bolivars started shouting around the plaza for more money. So much for the discreet money transfer I was hoping for. The bills started arriving from about 6 sources and when all were there the stack was a good 5 inches high if I pushed on it. Was anybody watching? Here I was going to trade 15 very clean Benjamin's concealed in my palm for 10 million Hugo's which were so worn they felt like thin cloth. I counted and counted, held every fifth bill up to the light to see the watermark, packed up and had a 13 scooter escort to the border. Bye, Bye Colombia.

Venezuela, you have to let it grow on you. Most tourists won't even venture a foot into the country. With all the reports of crime, especially in Caracas, a city of 6 million where last weekend there were 66 homicides, I too was somewhat apprehensive. There isn't much tourism infrastructure in place to help you along. Also Venezuelans are not as extroverted as Colombians so it takes a while to warm up to them or they to you. It is also hard because their Spanish is spoken so quickly its difficult to understand.  Restaurants are few in some areas and more time has to be spent finding decent food. Most Venezuelans seem to be fairly unhappy with their current government. Hugo Chavez they say has made a noble effort in promoting his Bolivarian Missiones. The missiones promote social welfare through education (many new schools), health (new clinics and hospitals staffed with a cadre of Cuban doctors), and work cooperatives. There has been success with the first two. Access to health care and literacy rates have all improved. 

The coops though have been plagued with corruption. Venezuela is an extremely wealthy country. Oil, gas, gold, cattle, diamonds make Venezuela one of the richest countries in South America. New cars, huge malls, sometimes you would think you were in Bloomington. The people I have spoken with say that's all great if only we had better management of our resources, a government with a clearer vision of the future and the ability to teach people new skills to get them off of welfare. Sound familiar? It seems that people everywhere want just about the same things.  

Funny story! I am driving down the Autopista towards San Carlos at about 65 MPH and Hugo Chavez pulls up alongside me in a 1972 Impala. A 427, duel exhaust, triple deuces, flake metallic paint, slicks on the rear, four speed, in mint condition. He says to me, ¨Gringo welcome to my country, you are from the Estados Unidos, correcto? All i could answer at the speed we were going was Si! He glanced ahead at the road thought for a moment and said.¨How is Mister Bush?¨ I couldn´t answer before he said, ¨Tell Mr. Bush hello from his friend, who is Still President¨ With that he downshifted, laid a little rubber and was gone. Afterwards I thought, why didn´t I get his picture?

As I was traveling through Venezuela's Andes the roads in the mountains were very prone to mud and rock slides. Some old slides and some new. On one road that approached 15,000 feet a mud slide occurred up a few blocks as I was riding.  It was a little unnerving. Water would be gushing over the roads trying to get to the other side. Sometimes carrying mud, rocks and small animals. I was trapped one day between a mud slide and a newly formed river. I had to wait until dark when the rains subsided to get through and cross the river. Here are a couple of photos.

On a different subject finding a restaurant with decent chairs is an entirely different matter. I have been struck in South America that the comfort of a chair is never a foregone conclusion. Ergonomically speaking maybe I just don't have the right body type. I always thought I had a number 8 head on a number 9 body. Well the designers of these chairs didn't take that type into consideration. 

They protrude, contort and bend in the worst possible combinations. Once I pulled a chair up, thinking that's odd and when I sat down, my head just about touched the table. Another time I hurriedly finished my meal because the wire comprising my chair seat was lacerating my buttocks. It seems that the chair designer felt three wires forming the seat were enough.

I'm not complaining. I have learned to demand little and accept less.  Right now I am sitting on a mile long stretch of palm strewn beach, surrounded by misty mountains all close to a small fishing village of 1500 people. Everybody already seems to know my name after 2 days. There is a lot of action around 5 AM when the fishing boats take off for several hours. Then they return and everything goes back to being quiet and sleepy. 

There isn't even a restaurant here just peoples homes that you walk into. Flowers are blooming everywhere and you can hear the waves crashing all day and night. It is quite idyllic? I have only been to one other place quite like this and that was Varkala, India. You could sit and read or write here for a month. 

It is called San Juan de Las Goldonas over on the Paria Peninsula in north eastern Venezuela. A little populated area of uncompromising beauty. Hiking trails and small forgotten villages are peppered throughout the peninsula. Small single lane roads snake their way around giving you gorgeous ocean and mountain views.

After leaving the northeast coast I began heading south towards Ciudad Bolivar. Along the way was a small mountain town called Caripe. Famous for coffee, oranges and cacao I stumbled onto their main attraction. The Cueva Del Guacharo. This cave in 1949 was declared Venezuela's first natural monument. The cave is 10.2 kilometers long but you are only allowed into the first 1200 meters. Unlit, the caverns are filled with up to 15,000 guacharos or oil birds. The oil birds are nocturnal and have enormous whiskers, a 3 foot wingspan, radar like navigation and a penchant for devouring fruit. 

They fly out at dusk and return before dawn to the first chamber where their endless screeching creates an unsettling eerie atmosphere. The second chamber is called El Silencio because it suddenly becomes quiet and provides relief from the birds. I made a tape which you can listen to here.

I am waiting in Ciudad Bolivar to catch a small plane heading for Angel Falls. Will write more after that trip and a visit to Roraima in the Gran Sabana.

All the Best,

Todd