Here I lay this evening, updating in a hammock; recollecting the day, attempting not to fall asleep in what is known for relaxation; as a cool breeze blows through this peach colored mosquito net. The sound of heavy falling water in the distance, a diesel powered generator, and typical summer bugs. Bats wistfully flying by me, using their sonar to capture the mosquitos that would otherwise be trying to nourish themselves off my blood, yet instead will nourish the little bodies of nocturnal, squeaky creatures. It’s been a long day.
We had a seven AM exit from our comfy posada in Ciudad Bolivar to be taken by our friendly Salto Angel tour agent, Walter, to the airport to catch the first flight to Canaima. However, that flight was full. We spent most of the morning waiting for the next flight which arrived late, but luckily met a few other travelers whom were delightful to speak with. Lindsey, a young woman around our age whom is just finishing up a 6 month independent tour of SA, gave us lots of helpful advice in regards to our future itinerary, as well as some medicine for motion sickness and diarrhea. I could have used some of the medicine for queasiness on our twin engine prop plane ride to CNP, but I had no liquid to flush it down. Luckily before we left the airport, Walter exchanged our money for us at the street value price, $1 to 8 boliviares. If we exchanged at the bank or atm, we only would have gotten 4 boliviares to $1. It is commonplace here to exchange your money on the black market. Another example of how control within government does not work.
After finally arriving, we were taken to a long, wooden motorboat that carried us across Canaima Lagoon; passing some est 80 – 100 feet high heavily flowing waterfalls. The mist coming from the falls was a welcome chiller since the temperature here was in the low 90s with some humidity. We arrived at the Bernal eco-lodge. The well maintained property is between two lagoons, overlooking the said falls. After lunch of spaghetti with sliced pork and a banana, we lathered on the sunscreen and changed to prepare ourselves for a visit to Sapo and Sapito Falls.
Our hiking guide, Victor, spoke no English. We speak some Spanish thus far, so conversation was short. We did not mind, as we take comfort in being with someone whom can properly guide us to what we want to see and Victor was the man for that. After a 30 minute hike through an some dry terrain into lush forests full of rocks and roots to navigate through, we reached the entrance for walking under Sapo Falls. We walked through mist and at times, rather heavy falling water blowing into our face; even too much water we had a hard time breathing between steps. We made our way through deep puddles formed between the slippery rocks; a pounding, constant sound over our heads. It’s what I would have pictured being outside during a bad hurricane would have felt like. It was nothing short of incredible! Victor next took us to view the forceful rivers flowing into Sapo and Sapito Falls. You could see the aura of rainbows through the mist, with blue skies, vast landscapes and tepuys (plateaued mountains) in the distance as a backdrop.
This evening we watched the setting sun depart from the clouds stretching across the sky. One half of sky reds, oranges, pinks and purples; the other this dark, stormy body. When evening came, a storm grew in the far distance, white streaks and bright flashes over a tepuy. The storm never came, but the moon and fireflys did.
June
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“As the traveler who has once been from home is wiser than he who has never left his own doorstep, so a knowledge of one other culture should sharpen our ability to scrutinize more steadily, to appreciate more lovingly, our own.” – Margaret Mead
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