The City of "El Libertador"

It was a hot sticky night. It rained most of the time and the lightning storms were crazy beautiful but the Nemo tent kept me safe and dry. Whenever it would stop raining for a bit the cicadas would do their thing. It was a great night. When it was time to pack up and go it would not stop raining and a look outside told me it would not do so for a long time. I heard Azure's voice in my head saying "When you get lemons, make lemonade"! I took off my smelly shirt and took the longest shower ever. Gotta love mother nature! She just forgot the knob to turn the water off. After a while I crawled back into the tent to dry myself and get dressed. Before long I was riding in the sun towards Caicara del Orinoco.

I had a simple breakfast on the side of the road and went on a petrol quest again. Thinking I was far enough from the border I was shocked to find all the gas stations closed. I asked at a smaller station where I could get it. The man said he did not know. It was all gone. "The system, you know" he said. Then he looked around and told me to ride around the block and come back. I didn't really get it but I did as I was told. He looked around again and came back with the key for the pump, he quickly filled my tank and wished me good luck with my journey. I was not allowed to pay.
I wondered if they were just not allowed to sell petrol for some reason. I had to backtrack to get back on the road and was stopped again by the same army checkpoint as on the way in, only to double check if I had been able to find petrol. Are you seeing a pattern? No corrupt soldiers so far! I needed another cafecita so I puled over and used the time to dry my tent on the bike. A 4x4 stopped next to the bike. Two guys came over and started off in perfect English. They were engineers and rode bikes too. The men were working on the biggest bridge in Venezuela crossing the grand Orinoco River. They invited me to come and check it out. I left my bike with the guards at the entrance and was smuggled in. I had to stay in the car as it was not completely legal for me to be there. The project was ginormous! I was so impressed with all the work and technology that went in to building this bridge. It was also nice to see how proud the men were of their work and their bridge. We talked for a while and they gave me contacts for further down the road in case I needed help.

Back on the bike my Tripmaster was failing again. It tells me my speed is between 150 and 325Km per hour while actually going 90. It does this when it rains a lot. Somehow water gets to the neutral indicator switch and this disturbs the Tripmaster. Until it all dries up again. If anyone can explain to me how this is connected... ???
The long road continues. I am still sore from downgrading to 1 horsepower but it brings back memories of an amazing day. Every town I ride through there are school kids smiling and waving. They have nothing, yet they are so happy. The landscape has become more hilly and the roads more winding. Long sections of tarmac have disappeared and where there is tar you wish it wasn't there because of all the massive potholes. But the riding is great and I am truly enjoying myself.

A man rides by with a shotgun over his shoulder and I am back in reality. This is not Holland. It get's me thinking. Despite all the warnings and all the bad media attention I have not felt unsafe in this country, apart from the man that wanted my bike but I just didn't understand the guy and chose to bail out. And your senses are one thing that do develop a lot while riding around the world. I can't help but wonder if it is all one big control mechanism for the government. FEAR! It seems to be the case in all the other "dangerous countries": False Expectations About Reality.
A dark cloud and a curtain of rain comes towards me. While I am closing my vents and zipping up my jacket the road bents to the left and aside from a few drops I stay dry. There is a saying here that tells you to shut your eyes when it is raining because the drops are so big and they come down with such force that they will take your eyeballs out. Seeing the rain come down makes you think it could actually be true.

I just love the cloud formations.
I finally make it to colonial Ciudad Bolivar. Although the suburbs, with their flooded roads and old apartment complexes make me feel like I am riding in a ghetto, the historical and colorful center of town lives up to its name. The tourist season has not yet started and it's quiet on the streets. After checking out old town I find a place with safe bike parking to spend the night.
The colorful streets of Ciudad Bolivar. Named after the man who liberated Venezuela from the Spanish rulers.

The children's hospital.

As you can see, Chavez's spirit is still very much alive.