Caracas was Crackers!

WOW... This is the way I like to begin on what I can only recall as 'the trip of a lifetime'. One of them for sure.

We flew back from Caracas to London via Frankfurt on Monday, only for Hala to turn on the news tonight and see there was a shooting at the Frankfurt airport. Isn't life bizarre? We came back from a city where danger follows every moment of people living there and never felt a threat and here in the Western world of German security, there has been a shooting!
As I turned my mobile on when at Heathrow airport, a dear Venezuelan friend in London, Juan Manuel had texted and asked: "How was Crackers?"

This is how it all began... Hala and I booked our flight to Caracas in less than a week. A return ticket for three weeks, without knowing what awaited us. It was by chance that we had run into Ramon; a dear family friend after decades at a gathering in Tehran, a year ago and met his lovely wife Teresa from Venezuela. When we expressed our interest in the country they now resided in, Ramon welcomed us to keep them informed of our plans. Frankly, not in a million years did we realize how much their support and friendship could change our view of the country they lived in. We are grateful for all the love and support they gave us with their children through our visit. 

After not hearing back from Ramon on Facebook, it was Hala's idea I contact their children to find out a way of reaching their baba.
Sure enough, the beautiful Mariella answered back immediately with a note of her father's contact telephone numbers. At least, the kids never fail to miss a moment of Facebook. Great.

We managed to talk to Ramon six days before the designated date of travel and he reassured us to help organise our destinations with a friendly travel agent he knew.
"No worries, just come, best to bring cash in dollars," were Ramon's words. "We'll arrange everything from here."
So, despite all the voices of concern from our good friends globally on being mad to choose such a dangerous destination, we went on and booked our ticket with Lufthansa via Frankfurt. It was probably wiser to book with Iberia via Madrid, but when do we ever do things normally?!

We left the cold February in London behind for Caracas.
At Caracas international airport, the warm hug and super friendly faces of Ramon and Teresa were the most reassuring welcome we could have wished for. They drove us to the oldest hotel, the newly redecorated Tamanaco in the Las Mercedes area.  Which was one of the relatively safer areas of the city.
Once we were settled into our new environment, they went through the schedule of visiting their exciting city in the days to come. It was all done in such a cool manner I had no idea what was awaiting us.

Hala had been asking the right questions due to all the studies she made through the travel books. The sleeping pill I took flying out of London (I must admit taking sleeping pills is something I hardly have any experience of), it left me in a daze for the next two days to come! With the view of the half-cloudy, the half-sunny sky over the variety of buildings and lush green mountains facing me,  I floated at the idea of sitting in the outdoor bar of the hotel we were staying in, sipping on the chilled, local beer with Hala, half taking in the conversation that was going on around me with our hosts.  But it was not just an idea ...  It was actually happening. We watched the sunset before Ramon and Teresa bid us farewell to get some rest and let us recover from the jet lag.  No time for that.

Our first day there coincided with Hala's birthday.  Well, actually, it was all planned.  The alarm clock on my blackberry, having calculated the four-and-a-half-hour time difference rang at 7.30 am in Caracas and we went down to breakfast on the terrace with the view of the swimming pool and the palms.  The lively Teresa joined us at the end of breakfast to drive us to Playa Pantaleta; two hours outside the city.  Boy, do you think you have experienced traffic?  Trafico ...  Trafico!  So I got busy clicking at my camera worse than any Japanese tourist ever.  Although you wouldn't say from the photo below!

Teresa well informed us of the present situation in her country.

She explained how the nationalisation of petrol by Andres Perez, led Venezuelan farmers (having been the first exporter of coffee), to move to Caracas and start working in construction.  With the overpopulation, rose the question of housing, hence, they used the materials; mainly left from sites, to build the favelas by cutting down the trees and building sometimes high on the steep, green mountains surrounding the city.

"Andres Perez who passed away a month ago," she continued, "still isn't buried.  His wife wants him buried here in Caracas and his lover wants him in Miami!"

We spent a peaceful afternoon settling on the beds provided by the (what I presume) beach guard and getting better acquainted over a cold beer he provided us.  

Sometimes all you need in life... Is making friends. Three women bonding in all frankness on a sunny beach, listening to the background sound of the waves in the sea as well as our voices carrying gently through the breeze of time. It made an almost empty beach seem full. Full of warm spirits.

I wanna go through every day of these cherished moments spent in the warmth of the land of Latinos.