It was just short of 240km from Santa Elena to Boa Vista, and about the only thing between the two was the town of Cem, named because it’s 100km short of Boa Vista. With a drop down to sea level, I figured that I’d get there if I left early. The plan, as usual, didn’t go as expected. I’d slept on Odin’s floor the night before, and we went back to the gastronomical street to get breakfast – my last arepas. We parted ways after that, and, after spending my last
The group in the mini-bus were getting ready to leave when I got up, but I gave them my information so they can hopefully send me the pictures they took, and they gave me a sandwich so I had some breakfast. The swanky hotel, which in some ways reminded me of the lodge in the middle of Death Valley, had its own waterfall near to where I’d camped and, having not had a shower, I bathed there.
A few km down the road, I met a Swedish cyclist called Johannes heading the other way. He’d started
I’d been thinking of leaving Tumeremo early, and having a relaxing day at Cesar’s place, but it didn’t quite turn out like that. I slept in at the hotel, leaving the room just in time for breakfast, and followed that up with more lazing around, trying in vain to use the slow internet to download some podcasts. By 11am I figured I should do something productive, and so, after getting my sandals sewed up the day before, I took my cycling legwear to get a bit of the stitching re-done
Following on from my camera problems, I was frustrated to find my iPod (which I had got replaced under warranty in Nicaragua) had failed again. I think it was caused during the heavy rain on the way from Valencia to Maracay, as that’s when the battery issues seemed to start, and that seemed to develop into it not playing anything. The warranty had expired, and there was no way I was buying a new one for $200 considering their history of failing under my ownership. In the Chinese owned shops
I decided that I would at least try riding with Pablo and Oto, and so we left Ciudad Bolívar. Puerto Ordaz, the next main town, was about 100km away and so, at my rhythm, I’d have been expecting to get there early afternoon. It took us 3 days.
We said our goodbyes to Nelly, who had written out directions from her place to the exit of town. The reality was that we left the house, turned right and went straight. She wrote out a whole page of information about everything we would see at each