Salto Ángel

 

Another long post, get ready. During the past weekend we had the awesome opportunity to visit Salto Ángel, the tallest waterfall in the world (~1 km). The crew was composed of seventeen of our group from the States plus our friend from Nova Scotia who is doing a sort of co-op for a semester. We met her at a birthday party a few weeks back. Friday morning we took a four hour bus ride from Mérida to Barinas, a steamy town in the plains at the base of the Andes. There we discovered that the next bus to Ciudad Bolívar was full; we should have bought tickets in Mérida. The next bus was not leaving until Sunday so I talked with bus drivers until I found us a ride to Caracas, where we could catch a bus to Bolívar. After an eight hour ride, we arrived in the Caracas bus terminal around midnight and caught a ride out two hours later. Midday we met our Bolívar guide Tato, who brought us to the posada. Ciudad Bolívar began as a shipping town for goods moving from the rainforest up the Orinoco, and is now the main gateway to Canaima National Park, which is only accessible by plane. We spent some time seeking out food in the city, and I started noticing the bad looks we were getting. Tato had told us that the city shuts down at 5PM, and that it is extremely dangerous to go outside after this time. Four girls and one guy walked to a park around 3PM, where two men approached them and they noticed the glint of a knife. Two of them were able to escape, but one guy grabbed a girl by the hair, threw her to the ground, and held a machete to her throat. They robbed her of a small amount of cash. The second guy held a knife to the wrist of another girl, whispered “shhh” and told her to give up her backpack. She was robbed of her original passport and all of her money. We never have been so aware that we are in one of the most dangerous countries in the world. Although the city has amazing views of the Orinoco and many other beautiful spots, it is wrought with crime and poverty and walking around makes one very uneasy. Needless to say, we spent the rest of the day near our posada, glad that everyone was safe. We later received news of many unexpected fees and taxes that we needed to pay and discovered that many of us were short on money. In addition, I was stupid and forgot to pack my original passport so I would have to pay a 200 Bsf. bribe to the officials at the airport. Thankfully many brought extra money and were able to lend some to those of us who were short. Our room was a caged in second story porch, and we spent the evening relaxing, enjoying the breeze, and taking in the views from our protected “gringo cage.” The next morning we rolled out around 6AM to the airport. Airport security took each and every item out of my bag and then shoved it all back inside in a jumbled mess. They also took a friend’s antidepressants. I lucked out and had to fly separately from the rest of the group on a six-seater bush plane with four Germans. I am still kicking myself because my camera was in my backpack out of reach the whole time. The plane had huge windows and I watched as the countryside changed from dry llanos to the Gran Savana, a surreal contrast of grasses, palms, bright pink trees that look just like Trufula trees, and giant tepuis (plateaus) looming in the distance. The most famous ones are Roraima, the tepui that inspired Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Lost World and Auyantepui, from which Salto Ángel falls. Upon arriving at the park, we were greeted by a man dressed in the traditional caramacoto dress. In fact, all the employees and guides of the park are indigenous, grew up in the park, and learned English and Spanish in pemon at a school in a small village near the Canaima Delta. Although they no longer live their traditional lifestyle, they protect and work on the land of their ancestors. That afternoon we took boats on a tour of the delta. First they took us to a white sand beach, where we swam for an hour or two in the warm water dyed a copper color by decomposing plant matter. We then hiked up to the top of a cliff, looked out over the savannah below with tepuis scattered here and there, and then ventured down another path which led behind a series of three waterfalls. We had a great time getting sprayed by the mist and sitting under the falls. The rest of the afternoon was spent at another beach on the other end of the lagoon. Since the delta has a current, I could swim in place, “water treadmill” style. While we were doing this, however, one of my friends requested that a picture be taken and we started to joke about our other friend being the camera lackey, yelling “pictures, Ian!” in bourgeois British accents. He interpreted this as us wanting the camera ourselves, so he lobbed his waterproof camera into the water and it skipped past our heads and sunk into the depths below. We dove for an hour but to no avail. We felt pretty dumb about the whole situation, especially in contrast to what had happened earlier- the others lost everything at knife-point while we threw our camera in a lake… The evening was spent playing cards in the posada (where the walls were covered in cool geckos and salamanders) and at the beach. In the morning we left around 6AM to begin the six hour boat ride up the river to Salto Ángel. Since it is the dry season, there were many rapids and the guides surprised us all by gunning the motor and charging up them rather than having us all get out. This happened quite a bit and at times all the men had to get out and push the boat. The landscape began to change from savannah to forest and the tepuis became larger and larger. At our lunch spot there was a big rock off of which some of us jumped; it’s always a good day when I can jump off a cliff. The guides fed us very well, giving us arepas, eggs, and juice for breakfast and some awesome hamburger pasta for lunch. An hour or so later we turned a bend a saw for the first time Salto Ángel, a misty stream of water falling from the highest tepui in the area. The tepuis were reminiscent of Zion National Park and the river below was like something you’d find in the North Shore. Later we arrived at our camp, a roof with hammocks about a hundred yards from the river. We then took an hour hike up to a rocky overlook which had a great view of the falls. Although this trip was very much of the “journey is the destination” variety, the destination was pretty phenomenal. The water fell out of the sky in almost slow motion, making one wonder how Jimmy Angel had the guts to land a plan on top back in the 30’s. One local legend goes something like this: The land was dry and one day a man and a monkey were walking through the woods when they found a vine flowing with water. He blessed some of this water and took it with him. Later on, the sky fell and an eagle with a broken wing landed at the feet of the man, who nourished the eagle with the blessed water. Since that day, water has flowed from Auyantepui, giving life to the land. Another legend has to do with a native who lost his lover, climbed to the top and has been crying since then. We walked a little ways down the path to a pool at the base of the falls, where we swam and fooled around for a while. That night we had chicken cooked on a rotisserie over the fire, cole slaw, and rice, after which we played some cards and chatted by the river. In the morning we lounged, swam by the river, and floated down the rapids, a real-life lazy river! At one point I got stung by a gigantic bug and after I pulled a stinger about a half a centimeter long out of my back, I felt the venom spread throughout my muscles to an area about the size of a compact disc, which ached for the rest of the day. We noticed a helicopter getting pretty close to us and just a few minutes later, it was landing on the rock in the middle of the river where we had just been sitting. Some tourists and the man dressed in the indigenous garb got out with food and equipment. I guess that’s how the rich and famous see Angel’s Falls. We decided the ideal method would be horseback on the way in and then kayaking on the way back. After a lunch of tuna pasta, we got back into the boat and rode four hours back to the Canaima Delta and our posada. We spent the night having good conversations around the table, hanging out and swimming at the beach, and playing limbo and looking at stars on the third story roof of the posada. My roommate Mitchell and I stayed up late enough to watch the sun rise over the delta. I have a pretty good photo sequence if anyone is interested. After the trip, I realized I had slept a total of about eight hours over those three nights, which I do not regret at all since I enjoyed the park to its fullest. Our flight left around 1PM the next day and the morning was spent back at the beach. This vacation was honestly like something out of a dream. Most national parks in the United States are magical places unlike anywhere else in the world and Canaima was no exception, a unique contrast of savannah, rainforest, tropical beaches, waterfalls, palm trees, and tepuis. I can still hear the sounds of the waterfalls and the eerie drone created by the thousands of tree frogs and insects in the forest. Back in Ciudad Bolívar, I took a nap and we ate at a great Criollo restaurant with a TV playing Workaholics in English. We got on our bus around 8PM, which is the most luxurious bus I have ever been on. The double decker bus has comfortable seats that recline almost all the way back and footrests that create a veritable bed. Last night, I made it about ten minutes into a Nicolas Cage movie (in English, Spanish subtitles) before falling asleep.  Right now, I am still on the bus writing in order to avoid watching the Hobbit. It is dubbed in Spanish at a very low volume and I have not seen it yet, so I am doing whatever I can to not look up.