Travel to Buenos Aires, Argentina August 2-4, 2008

Buenos Aires was all we thought it would be and more. Getting there proved a bit of an adventure as do most things in Venezuela. Ten minutes before we left, our travel agent called to say our Brazilian flight on Varig Airlines had been cancelled, but the good news--he had re-booked us on Lan Airlines for the following day. Since we were scheduled to spend the night in Caracas for an early flight the next day, we decided to go on to Caracas thinking we'd see a little of the city since our new flight left 12 hours later. What we forgot was that it was Sunday and most things are closed on Sunday. In addition, our hotel was near the airport, and it was quite costly to taxi into downtown for a few hours, so we hung out near our hotel. We ventured into a casino, one of the few open places but discovered they were very cautious when allowing people in or out. For example, we were not allowed to take our water bottles in with us. Mike was frisked at the door to boot. The parking attendant called the front desk before we entered to tell him that the coast was clear. Translation: No one was lurking about to rush into the casino. Since it was beastly hot and humid outside, the cool air in the casino felt great and caused us to spend a little more time there. When we left about an hour later, the guards went through the same drill, checking to be sure no bad guys were lurking about.

Although the city was not particularly clean or pretty, we did find a pretty good restaurant. We were amazed however when our waitress dropped a lime as she was removing our dishes, she simply kicked it all the way out to the curb and into the gutter.

At the airport, while standing in line to check in, we learned that travelers in Venezuela pay (about $5) to have their bags wrapped in saran-like plastic to prevent rummaging by airport workers. So, we did so, feeling foolish, but again--it's Venezuela.

Our trip on LAN Airlines turned out to be wonderful. We were served a full hot meal with real utensils and wine.

We arrived in Buenos Aires the next morning after a brief layover in Santiago, Chile, at about 9 a.m. where we were met by Roberto, a taxi driver who is the nephew of a business friend of Lou's and Ray's, Mike's sister-in-law and brother. As our guidebook suggested, we changed some money at the bank as we left the airport rather than at one of the numerous change kiosks as the rates are much better--generally, three pesos for one dollar.

Lou and Ray had arrived Saturday and were already ensconced in our rented apartment --the entryway is pictured at left--in the San Telmo neighborhood of Buenos Aires. They had had a taste of the charming neighborhood and its plentiful cafes and bars and were ready to introduce us.

One of the favorites' is the historic El Federal Cafe pictured below.

The San Telmo Church below was a familiar site in the neighborhood too.

Puerto La Cruz, Venezuela July 7 - 31, 2008

After a July 4th barbecue on the beach in Porlamar, we headed out with two other boats, Coqui and Gaia, to Puerto La Cruz, Venezuela, our destination for the hurricane season. Since it was 80 miles from Margarita, we had to stop along the way in El Coche. We stayed there until Monday, July 7, as the marina where we're staying was closed on the weekend. We had a long trip to PLC

and although we did catch a fish, it didn't look like one we'd want to eat.

We arrived at our marina, TMO, at about 4 p.m., having started out at 5:30 a.m. The challenge was docking stern-to, that is, backing the boat into the dock, a feat we had not yet experienced and which most boaters shy away from. Yes, it was a challenge for us as well especially with a stiff breeze--the first of the day--off the starboard side. We finally succeeded but it was not easy!

Puerto La Cruz is a small, industrial port city. All of the marinas are located in this one area and all are secured by fences. It is not safe to travel outside the marinas except in groups, and even then, one must be careful. There is a large waterway with numerous canals off the entrance to the marinas. The homes are large and spacious; the condos line bridged canals in a Venice-like fashion. The area is known as El Morro.

Anuncio, Isla Margarita, June 28, 2008

Anxious to get the local experience, Mike and I decided to take a jaunt to the capital city of Margarita, Anuncio, about an hour away. Although we tried, we were unable to catch a bus at the marina and ended up walking for about an hour into town through some questionable areas. We stopped for lunch at a local restaurant. Fortunately it had air conditioning and supplied its clientelle with real knives and forks--not the plastic cutlery that is used in the streetside fast food restaurants that proliferate in Margarita. We were anxious to try some local food. Mike had a delicious chicken dish and I an arepa (a-ray'-pa), a flat, disc-like biscuit about the size of a hamburger bun, often filled with a stuffing of meat, chicken or fish. This was unfilled and a bit plain. Anyhow, we proceeded in search of the bus station, another 20-minute walk in the hot, hot sun. Finally we found a bus heading for Anuncio and hopped on.

An hour later we found ourselves in a charming old city, much cleaner and neater than Porlamar. However, since it was Saturday afternoon, most shops and restaurants were closed. We walked on the square, an ever-present structure in most Latin American cities. There was the requisite statue of the South American hero, Simon Bolivar. We later learned that his statue is featured in all central squares in different poses representing different events.

After finally finding a place for a cold drink, we caught the bus back to town. The buses are all in bad repair, but the fare is very cheap, about 30 cents to go most places in the city. The fare to Anuncio, cost us about 50 cents each, each way.

Finding our bus back to the marina was an exhausting affair. No one we asked had a clue. We were directed around the square in Porlamar whose streets were packed with weekend shoppers. (Porlamar is a destination for Venezuelan--an island with beaches, palm trees and duty-free goods.) To preserve our sense of humor, we ducked occasionally into the ice cold shops which poured air conditioning onto the jam-packed, sizzling streets. Finally, we hailed a taxi. Nevertheless, it was good to see the bustling city, buy some limes from a street vendor who also threw in a banana for each of us, and visit a quieter, more stately city.