Venezuela and the "Los Roques": the Caribbean's queen islands

Arrival in Venezuela

Venezuela…yes?.....Venezuela no? As you can easily guess, the decision materialized with the departure on June 28. This year the destination of our trip/holiday was almost chosen as soon as we returned from the previous summer's, but the indecision due to "wearing" doubts such as the dangerousness of the country and therefore the stress of having to be careful every second of the trip—for ourselves, our belongings, and our money—held us back for a while. I tried to glean as much information as possible online and on various forums, and in the end a good "WHO CARES" won out, and so the hunt for the cheapest plane ticket began. The search was exhausting (as always) but we came out on top with 648.00 euros at CTS, a Tap Air Portugal flight from Rome with a stopover in Lisbon.

We bought the tickets a month and a half before departure, during which time I contacted several people who had done or were about to do the same itinerary as us. A special greeting and thanks to Linda from Trento and her boyfriend Simone from Rome!!

The itinerary was as follows:

6/28: Rome – Caracas – Ciudad Bolivar 6/29: Ciudad Bolivar – Canaima 6/30: Canaima – Angel Falls 7/1: Angel Falls – Canaima 7/2: Canaima – Ciudad Bolivar – Puerto Ordaz – Caracas 7/3: Caracas – Los Roques until 7/11

After countless emails exchanged with Beatriz, wife and co-owner along with Cosimo of Energy Tour (an agency in Ciudad Bolivar), we settled on excursions and prices for Canaima and Angel Falls, and I must say we were satisfied with the organization and reliability of this agency. We then contacted Andrea at Posada Lagunita in Los Roques and booked our 9 days in paradise!

At this point everything was ready—well, almost. We did a thousand trials for packing our bags, since for the internal flights, especially the one to Los Roques, everyone told us to bring a maximum of 10 kg, and so we did.

Ti ti ti ti tiiiiiiiiii, wake uuuup!! 4:30 in the morning, flight at 6:50, wake-up call so to speak, since I didn't sleep a wink, unlike my boyfriend who was snoring……. We left on time and arrived on time in Caracas. We met a little family on the plane who were returning to Venezuela for a month to visit relatives; we chatted a bit with the Venezuelan mom who confirmed the dangerousness of Caracas, urging us to remove anything that could attract attention such as rings, bracelets, watches, etc. But as good kids we had already taken care of it, dressing as soberly as possible and without any "decorations" on us.

Once at the airport we stood in a medium-long line at immigration, where we handed over the form filled in with our data that is distributed on the plane, and answered questions like "Where will you go? How long will you stay? What is the purpose of your trip?"; after clearing immigration we retrieved our luggage (what a joy to receive it!!). To figure out where it came out from, we looked at where the people who had been on the plane with us were gathered, because there was no sign indicating the baggage claim belt.

After clearing customs too we finally went out, and besides the many taxi drivers looking for naive tourists, there was also the friendly Felix from Energy who walked us to the domestic flights terminal located 300 meters away; they still haven't built an internal passage to go from one terminal to another, but they told us they will… Felix helped us check in, we paid the internal flight taxes (you check in first and then go to the cashier to pay) and changed 300 euros on the black market at 2600 bolivars, but we later realized that they prefer euros and that we could very well have changed only dollars at the same rate, grrrrr!

The flight to Ciudad Bolivar was scheduled for 7:30 pm, but there was a delay of a good two and a half hours, and I assure you that with jet lag on your shoulders it was extremely hard to keep your eyes open until that hour; plus at 7:00 pm the sun had already set and it was pitch black outside!! After even an unscheduled stop in Puerto Ordaz, we arrived in C.B. at 11:00 pm. Cosimo was there waiting for us; he accompanied us to the Hotel Laja Real, which is practically across from the airport. This is one of the best hotels in the area (they say a 4-star, ahahaha); it's fine for one night, especially it becomes a godsend when you no longer have the strength even to take off your shoes!

Caracas - Canaima

I don't remember anything about the night, only that we literally passed out, so I imagine we were rested enough for…… Ti ti ti ti tiiiiiiiiii, wake uuuup!! 6:50, at 7:30 am we have an appointment at the reception with Cosimo, who walks us back on the long journey (100 meters) to the airport, while we wait for the plane.. oops, I meant the model of a plane, so small and light that it would almost have been better as an ornament in our home….. We have breakfast at the bar sitting at the table; a little old man brings us milk and coffee to stir with half a straw, after which we pay Cosimo the balance of the excursion cost and board that "nice" little contraption.

In an hour we arrive in Canaima; the landscape that slid beneath our eyes during the flight was magnificent and very green, we immediately recognize the lagoon and the waterfalls and realize that we really are in Venezuela! Once we've landed and gotten off the little model plane, we see but don't hear—at least I'm temporarily deaf, the engine noise has dazed me—but immediately we see a guy coming toward us calling the name of the posada Wey Tepuy (in the distance, but I heard it). Yeees, our posada, it's us, it's us!!! And here comes to our rescue from the deafness that probably made us make unspeakable gestures and grimaces: ERNESTO, our angel-guide, who first of all showed us how to regain our hearing and then explained a bit about what we'd be doing for two days.

There's an immediate change of plans: we leave right away for Angel Falls, the weather forecast is good, so we have half an hour to: prepare a backpack with what's needed for the night in a hammock, dress lightly for the crossing in the "bote," that is, the boat, and hand over our luggage to the posada office. Done and done! Together with 3 other girls and a Norwegian couple we set off along the dirt paths of the village; few people are around, silence reigns supreme in this remote corner of the country—the only way to reach Canaima is by air—and all around is nature, nothing but nature, it's fantastic.

The trip up the Carrao and then Churun rivers is truly striking; the landscape of countless tepuis makes us think of primordial nature, the water color is burgundy, clear in some spots near the banks where the sand is pink. We immortalize this natural triumph first in our souls and then in the camera. We've lost all sense of time; without a watch we can't make sense of anything anymore, not even our natural biological rhythms give any sign of functioning—and that's just fine, when does a feeling like that ever happen again?!...

The navigation lasted about 3 hours; once we reached the camp we had a few minutes to get ready and set off on foot again to reach "el mirador Salto Angel." We got caught in quite a bit of rain; the "climb" was tiring for me since I wasn't trained, especially the last stretch where you practically had to scramble up, but I'm probably just the usual clumsy one, because the little group with us walked like goats wearing their flip-flop-shoes…I had trekking boots, imagine that…. Anyway, once we got up there, as high as Jesus Christ, the waterfall presents itself in all its grandeur, especially when the clouds move away from the top; the panorama is extraordinary, and the mosquitoes take advantage of our distraction to make numerous blood withdrawals—cursed things! They're vaccinated against blue Autan; nothing stops them!!

Once back down—and I won't hide that going the route in reverse (on our own) we were afraid we'd taken the wrong path; the landmarks I had noted on the way up never seeeemed to arrive on the way back, and meanwhile the sun was gone, and there were moments of panic we didn't show each other, but in the end my boyfriend's instinct and sense of direction got us to our destination. As I was saying, once back down we took a pseudo-shower—the water wasn't coming out—and then ate by candlelight since there's no electricity at the camp. It was very relaxing to also chat a bit with the others with the sound of pouring rain in the background. The night in the hammock passed peacefully; socks, a pair of long pants and a sweatshirt are essential, and if you can bring along the blankets they give you on the plane, even better—they were very useful for us.

Angel Falls - Canaima

3rd day

It's 7:00, we're awake and ready for breakfast based on arepitas (fried corn cakes) to be filled as you like with jam or with a preparation of egg, onion, maybe tuna? who knows…. Return trip by bote—beautiful, very beautiful; the puri puri were with us on the boat uninvited, they made our legs polka-dotted, the itching drove us crazy. Is it possible they still haven't invented a chemical product to kill these cursed insects?!! This day was dedicated to the waterfalls of the Canaima Lagoon; we remained, just the two of us, with Ernesto, the others left, and apparently there are no foreigners besides us in Canaima—this excites us. The waterfalls are wonderful; walking behind the curtain of water falling with incredible force is thrilling.

Tourists come here for a day trip from Isla Margarita, mainly Germans, so to take a photo you have to stand in line… The day of boat rides and walks ended around 5:30 pm. We took the opportunity to go to a souvenir shop in the village where you can buy various objects made of balsa wood, where the man who works these objects kindly invited us to take a seat in front of the television to follow the World Cup together!

Canaima- Caracas

On the morning before leaving, we took one last walk through the dirt streets of Canaima and at 10:00 we were on the little "Trasmandu" plane heading to Ciudad Bolivar. We leave Canaima with our hearts filled with emotions; it would have been nice to stay longer… In Ciudad B. a person from Energy came to pick us up and accompanied us to Puerto Ordaz airport, where we spent about 2 hours waiting for our plane to Caracas to depart. The wait turned out to be fun and not at all burdensome; we made friends with the guys at the only café in the waiting room of the small airport, and on top of that there was the Portugal–England match; passengers and crew alike cheered for Portugal in one voice. We threw ourselves in too, except then the match ended and everyone vanished!! But not our friends: Jefferson and Marielvis.

We talked a lot, about their reality and ours, about their country and ours; it was an interesting exchange of thoughts that for the umpteenth time confirmed to us how necessary traveling is to make the mind flexible and open to new things. I ask everyone who passes through this airport to make a minimum effort to communicate with these two guys, who truly have a great desire to learn about what is different from their way of life, even just through words.

Once in Caracas we're happy to see Felix again! The destination for the night is Macuto, a former seaside resort of the "litoral Central" a few km from Caracas. The stretch of road going toward Macuto is horrible; this area was destroyed by the 1999 flood and everything has remained as it was then. Along the sides of the road there are many shacks, the ranchitos, and a swarm of people who…I don't know what they're doing, maybe just walking or waiting for one of the packed buses that connect the various centers along the coast. The vehicles in circulation are beat-up and old, indeed ancient, and most have the license plate on the roof with "taxi" written on it, but what taxis, I tell myself, they can't be taxis! I'm bewildered by what I see; I don't know if I should be.

What did I imagine I'd find? I had a vision of tangible poverty; rationally you know what it is, but emotionally it's devastating. The dilapidated buildings follow one after another; many were hotels where Caraqueños once spent their vacations. This is what you see flowing by from the car windows; we truly cannot imagine the degradation these people live in.

The lady who accompanied us to the hotel told us the area is quiet, even though it doesn't make a good impression on us. Finally in the room! It's terribly hot; after a shower we went out to dinner, choosing to eat at the restaurant across from the hotel, also observing a bit of the local wildlife who, in their old cars decorated with a thousand little lights, drove by on the road with music at full volume.

Caracas - Los Roques

In the morning we meet up with Felix, who takes us back to Maiquetia, so: check-in with the airline that Andrea from Lagunita had booked for us, and once again sitting and waiting to leave for LOS ROQUES!!

We squeeze into the second little contraption of the holiday; behind us there's an Italian family—dad, mom and daughter. Hearing them talk, it seems this is the second time they've come back to Los Roques, but honestly we have no interest in socializing, at least up to this point. Departure at last! We even manage to doze off despite the noise of the engines and the open window where the co-pilot occasionally rests a hand. Almost 40 minutes have passed when news comes in; I hear the pilot talking with his colleague (we were sitting right after them). I hope I didn't understand…and instead, one of them turns around and tells us in English that a plane has crashed on the runway at Los Roques, so the airport is temporarily closed—damn, did I hear that right?! I ask our fellow nationals sitting behind us for confirmation; yes, we heard correctly. We turn around and go back.

A thousand thoughts: but what plane crashed? Are there injuries? And what happens to us? And we..who were waiting to open our eyes and find the clear Caribbean sea….hic hic!

Well, well, another landing, I'd say an excellent one, eh eh it really seems like a nice joke! We are accompanied, with the assistance of Miss Jamaica who checked us in, to another area of Maiquetia airport to wait for news (I must say that "waiting" was truly a constant on this holiday), and what do you do to kill time? We have a delicious arepita prepared, but we have to almost gulp it down since we're called again for departure. We run…and..another joke, they forgot to refuel the plane. What a joke, guys…. and what do you do? You WAIT, of course.

OK, I'll keep it short, we arrived in Los Roques around 11:30. We saw the crashed plane, a two-seat propeller plane belonging to an idiot who, having departed from Caracas, decided to try to land at Gran Roque but things went badly for him; fortunately no one was hurt.

9 days in Los Roques

"LO ROQUE" (as they call it) 9 DAYS.

What can I tell you? The diaries I've read on the various travel sites are very descriptive and well done about this destination, so I'll be a bit repetitive, but it's inevitable—Los Roques is so wonderfully repetitive!

The accommodation at Posada Lagunita was excellent; well done Andrea and all his collaborators (well done CICCIO!!). We were the new arrivals along with the little family, our companions in adventures—what a coincidence, huh—well, we socialized for 9 intense days, and not only with them!

FRANCISQUÍ was the first beach touched by our little feet….

The most beautiful islands in our opinion among those we saw:

CARENERO CAYO DE AGUA CRASQUÍ NORONQUÍ

The 10 MOST BEAUTIFUL and FUN days at sea we have ever spent, between wonderful places and friends we made.

Our typical day in Los Roques: breakfast all together more or less at the same time, with the daily destination being decided, which promptly was different from the one decided the evening before; often they fed us some nonsense about the wind, rough sea, etc., but honestly for me one island was as good as another! At 9:30 everyone ready to go to the pier; most days we did the transfers with the boat "il furioso." Both the captain and the sailor "el Chino" were great. From 10:30/11 (depending on the distance from Gran Roque) onward we rested our weary limbs on the island until 4:30/5 pm, when they came to pick us up. Naturally they left us with all the provisions: pasta or rice, fruit and the legendary "mordisquitos," that is, chocolate or vanilla wafers, along with water, Coca-Cola and beer.

After a "tiring" day under the sun we returned to the posada, where a nice hot tray of pizza was just waiting to be eaten by us poor starving castaways! Then a shower, and meeting around 7:30 pm on the mosquito-infested terrace for an aperitif based on "ron" and more; at 8:00 pm dinner took place, and after dinner back up on the terrace for coffee and then off to chatting, with the possibility of an evening outing accompanied by super Ciccio to drink something (again!) on the beach.

And every day, for 9 days, it was like that. The islands are beautiful and deserted (except when we were there). As I was saying earlier, Carenero is the one we appreciated most, but there's a reason beyond the beauty of the place..: THE LUNCH prepared by local fishermen, freshly caught fish served for the pleasure of our palates. Here we spent more time chatting and sipping ron than lounging on the sand. The people who live there were initially wary and then, with a bit of familiarity, extremely generous—so much so that they showed the Tuscan newlyweds their home. Maybe if they thought about returning to Los Roques, a room for them is available!

Shall we talk about Crasquí? Another island, another lunch. Eh yes, I like the combination of nature and food, the ultimate in a pleasure-filled holiday! "Da Juanita" we had lunch on the day of the long-awaited Italy–France match (they put the TV in front of the table!); joining our group were the captain and sailor of the new boat (the one from the posada), Andrea from Lagunita, and naturally Ciccio couldn't be missing, rooting for France, alas.

Here we reached the height of bliss: FISH (excellent) – nap in the hammock (and not only me!) – ITALY WON and we celebrated in this wonderful paradise of sea and sand!!

I could keep filling pages and pages describing places and people that truly stayed in our hearts. Children, colorful houses and music, tranquility and a simple, informal atmosphere—Los Roques is like that, EVEN NOW. We think the harmony created with the other people who were with us at the posada helped make the holiday not only relaxing but also VERY FUN.

Just one note for those who think of leaving blindly and then find themselves complaining because they find it disgusting to walk on the sandy paths in flip-flops, because hot water doesn't come out of the shower and what does come out is scarce, because the lagoon doesn't give off a good smell, because there is dirt and it shows, because there's nothing to do except go to the sea during