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May 2000- Just as my tan was wearing off Jo came to visit for the weekend and Jennifer was interesting in going to the beach. I was a little concerned about how the two of them would get along, but considering that most of my other friends had moved away recently I took the risk. I still don't really know Jennifer that well, but she has a good sense of humor and enjoys the outdoors so I hoped that there would not be any problems. Jo on the other hand is… well he is just Jo. He is very blunt and has a habit of making off-color remarks. Despite the fact that he is successfully working his way up the ladder at work in the finance department he can surprise you with his lewd comments from time to time. The three of us met up on Saturday morning to depart. The plan was for us to leave at 8:00 AM to have a decent amount of time on the beach on Saturday. Jo and I had gone out to dinner the night before and went home before midnight. Jennifer, on the other hand, had gone out with coworkers on Friday night and didn't get home until 4:30 in the morning. We ended up leaving at 9:00 AM and were promptly greeted by a traffic jam. Once out of the city the road cleared up. Jennifer slept most of the way and we arrived in Choroni at 1:00 PM. The three of us rented a casita and ate some lunch before going to the beach. The house we rented was not as nice as the one I had stayed in during my previous trip to Choroni, but it was still comfortable. Since the afternoon was waning we went to the close beach, Playa Grande, instead of taking a boat to one of the more remote beaches. Although it was not very crowded the beach was still dirty and unimpressive. Playa Grande made me pleased that I usually take boats to more inaccessible locations. |
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On Saturday night we went to dinner at Mangos, the same little restaurant that we had gone to in February when I was in Choroni previously. The dinner conversation was all over the map. Although Jennifer and Jo have both had stalkers, I'm still cooler because I've been in jail (at least according to my value system). The restaurant had more to offer than strange conversation and good food though. Our waiter was some greasy Venezuelan but in the kitchen was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen (Not really but it sounds more dramatic that way). Liiiittle arms, just like I like 'em. She possessed the three T's: tall, thin, and tan. The kicker though was that she was wearing a top that barely covered her stomach and her pants were hanging low on the hips. Thus the first thing I saw when she came out to tell us the night's specials was an ample helping of bare midriff. Although this girl was in the kitchen most of the night she came by our table a few times during the course of the evening. At one point I took the opportunity to ask her if anything special was going on around town this weekend, since they often have religious festivals and other parties in Choroni. She then brought a glass of guarapita for the three of us to try. Guarapita is a local drink made of passion fruit and grain alcohol. A nice gesture but it looked more like something you would use to strip paint than drink on a hot, tropical night. Since she was nice enough to give us a free cocktail though I asked her to sit down and join us. Things were going pretty good from there and seemed like a nice girl. Her name was Jamie and she was from La Victoria but worked in Choroni. She was sitting down behind the table at this point so I could actually concentrate on some of the things she was saying instead of just staring at her tummy. A friend of Jamie's named Emanuel Butz (hee hee) came over and started talking to us too. He was a drunken, cornball tour guide; I liked the girl better. Butz was trying to convince us to go on his tour of Parque Nacional Henri Pittier… for only $375! Nothing was happening in Choroni that night so after dinner Jo, Jennifer, and I headed back to the casita. It was a decent place, with two bedrooms, a bathroom, and an open patio area with plants and flowers. We played cards and talked before going to be. I was happy because I got to sleep in a hammock and it was the first time that I had done so since the last time I was in Choroni. |
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On Sunday we went to El Diario, a beach that I had read about in Lonely Planet and at Planeta.com. Jamie was supposed to come with us but we did not see her again after we left the restaurant. Jennifer, Jo, and I drove to the town cemetery and then took a hiking trail over a mountain to the coast. I had to do a bit of convincing for Jo and Jennifer to come along. Jennifer was only wearing Birkenstocks and Jo doesn't like walking. This was not exactly the same sense of adventure as I was used to with Rob and Tom. Along the way we spotted several different types of lizards of various sizes and colors. We also saw a three-foot snake chasing after a lizard for its lunch. I don't think the snake was dangerous (it was brown and looked like an ordinary garden snake) but we waited until it slithered away before continuing down the trail. It was a hot hike over the mountain but once we got to the coast we were rewarded with a completely deserted beach! El Diario was small and although the sand was clean there was still an ugly pile of trash behind the rocks. Apparently we were still not far enough from civilization. Later in the morning three Venezuelans and two old British men came to our beach but it was still very peaceful. The setting was quite a departure from the drunk Venezuelans and loud boomboxes of the previous day. Jo had to catch a flight at 6:00 that evening so we headed back earlier than we would have liked. It was so nice at the beach that we actually discussed Jo missing his plane and trying to get a later one. This was eventually decided against since Jo was unsure there would be space available on later flights. On the hike back to the car I was encouraged by the fact that I had no pain in my knee following my snowboarding accident in April (I fractured my fibula and bruise my femur). We left Choroni at 2:30 PM and Jo was to the airport by 5:15 PM. Less than three hours and we even stopped on the side of the road for mangos. It usually takes three and one half-hours to get home and the airport is 25 kilometers past Caracas. At one point while I was passing a bus while approaching a sharp turn on to a one-lane bridge Jennifer exclaimed, "This car is pretty quick!" That is the sense of adventure I had been looking for earlier in the day. My record setting time ended up being all for naught though because Jo's flight was delayed until 7:45 PM. We could have stayed at the beach longer but better safe than sorry (not that I was driving safe). After dropping Jo off Jennifer and I went down into La Guaira and Naguata to see the damage from the mudslides in December. This was the first time I had been to the area since the disaster occurred. The area looked like a ghost town, quite a departure from the previous bustling port. The road had been cleared in most places but the surrounding damage still looked terrible. They are still in the process of just moving dirt around; no rebuilding has started. What struck me the most was that some spots were unaffected and others right next door were completely destroyed. Jennifer took a few pictures, but it made me feel uncomfortable to do so. By this time the sun was setting so we headed back to Caracas. From there I dropped Jennifer off and went home to clean up and put everything away until the next trip to the beach. |
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