Venezuela

The next day was a drive through the La Gran Sabana on our way to the border town of Santa Elena de Uairén.

We passed 2 waterfalls on our drive, the first was beautiful but we had just returned from Angel Falls and so failed to be impressed. The second waterfall however was stunning. Jasper falls is a waterfall that is extremely shallow with 2-3ft drops between levels of natural semiprecious jasper beds. The bright orange/red of the jasper almost glows as the sun and water hits it. The lady living close to the falls also had 2 pet baby toucans that wobbled over to you as you approached which was in itself worth a short stop visit.

Santa Elena lies on the border of Venezuela and Brazil and is the starting point of treks into the lost world. This was our first laundry and hotel stay for almost 2 weeks and after the Orinoco Delta and Angel Falls everyone was relieved to finally get clean! Opening my laundry bag even made me gag and it was my muck!

I had mixed feelings about trekking into the lost world. We have done lots of jungle stays recently and the thought of packing up another small bag to hike for many kilometres, get dirty and sleep in a tent did not appeal. However, Santa Elena is a small town with not exactly lots to do and the thought of staying there for 4 days intrigued me even less.

It was possible to hike up to the most famous tepui, Mount Roraima from here, the area that the famous book 'The Lost World' is based on. However, short of time, money and lack of energy for the 8 day difficult trek we opted for the 3 day table top mountain walk through La Gran Sabana.

The night prior to heading out for the trek the guide gave us some info on the area. It's very rich in crystals and Indians believe it to have great powers. It is also supposed to be a UFO hot spot with many documented sightings dating as far back as ancient times. The guide told us that to approach the mountain safely we had to make prayers to it: "We come in peace, we mean you no harm, I ask the permission of the guardian spirits please let us pass".
I thought he was a nutter and I had no faith in him leading us safely throughout the trek. We would have tents and basic food provided, could drink water from the rivers but everything else we had to provide and carry on the trek.

I woke that morning with dread and general lack of energy for a sweaty 3 days walk. Ollie was all smiles, firstly, has seen the original movie and is a fan and, second, the fact that it is an alien hot spot (geek).

We had decided to make this walk as easy as possible so took only the clothes we were wearing, rain jacket and sleeping bag. Roll mats were left behind as generally we can both sleep just about anywhere after overlanding for so long.

A 2hr jeep ride took us through part of the La Gran Sabana to a small village and the start of the trek. After a small lunch we headed out. The first days walk was flat through grassland, marsh and forest until we reached our base camp 2.5hr later. This was located at the side of a waterfall and river. The guys immediately jumped in to cool off. Ollie nearly killed himself trying to slide down the waterfall and I tried not to be eaten alive by the sand flies watching him.

We climbed one of the nearby grassy hilltops to watch the sunset. It lit up the whole of Mt Chirikayen, our challenge for the next day.

The following morning Ollie woke early to try and catch the sunrise from behind Chirikayen. I was smug that I'd chosen to stay in bed as it was cloudy! Neither of us had gotten much sleep, not because of the predicted alien activity, but because it had thundered, lightened and thrown it down all night and I DIDN'T BRING A ROLL MAT. I thought the tent would be on grass, not huge razor sharp rocks. Through pure exhaustion I'd fallen asleep around 4am, but could only sleep on my back to stop the rocks slicing my hips, apparently at 4am he woke up cos my snoring was worse. I don't snore; the aliens were sending him auditory hallucinations.

We headed out of the tent for much needed coffee to be greeted with thousands and thousands of sandflies. 80% DEET wasn't working and I even had bites on my lips, eyes and even my bum when I'd snuck to the loo! The bites bring up a drop of blood straight away and the scab lasts for weeks. Sandflies are my most hated creatures of all time, what is their purpose, WHY WOULD EVOLUTION INVENT THEM??

We set off for a full day's hike, not in the best of moods and energy lacking, but ready to get up the mountain. A couple of kilometres out of the base camp the guide pointed out recent puma tracks, but that’s as close as we got. Going at quite a good pace we walked grasslands, woods and then started the steep assent over boulders up the tepui. It was hot and the rain had luckily stayed away which made the walk pleasant if not sweaty and nowhere near as difficult as expected. In 2.5hr we were standing at the top of Mt Chirikayen looking out onto the La Gran Sabana. The old stories tell of dinosaurs living on top of these mountains. There are no dinosaurs. Carnivorous plants and orchids make up the greater population of the flat boggy landscape. However after an hours walk along the top of the mountain we hit a vantage point where the view was amazing. We could see the path we had done that day, the base camp and on the horizon the starting village we had left yesterday.

The whole top of the mountain is covered in quartz crystals that sparkle as the sun hits them and when you rub them together they glow. Maybe this is the reason for the Indians believing that the mountain had lots of energy.

We ate lunch on top of the mountain edge with our feet dangling into the valley below. I still failed to see any UFOs.

The group split into 2 on the walk back. Those who wanted to walk further along the top and those wanting to head back to base camp. Guess which group I was in??? The other group did see a giant anteater though that I was gutted about missing. The walk back was almost a run, as the main guide had left us with one of his helpers who didn't understand that gringos were not mountain goats and needed time to climb down boulders. We slipped our way through the forest in the mud. As our boots sank up to the ankle in the sticky stuff we were reminded of Glastonbury and the fact it would be the very same weekend if we were at home. I was surprised when I found myself thinking, I would rather be here, doing a walk, yes, I would rather be hiking! Whats happened to me??

As we reached the base camp after only 2hr running back, everyone headed to the waterfall for well deserved wash. I had to get into the water for a wash but it was sooo cold. It was the quickest clean I've ever had, and the quickest I've ever got dressed again what with all the sand flies.

Campfire, curry, lightning storm (no aliens), rounded off a really great days hiking.

The next day was only the base camp to village flat 2hr walk and the rain held off. Reaching the village the trek organisers had ordered us a take away Chinese meal that was devoured by all. Everyone had a positive buzz about them after the 3 day trek, including myself. I suppose the guide would say it was the mountain's energy or the natural crystals. I believe it was probably caused by the exercise and the artificial colorants in the Chinese - but who am I to argue?!

We were all shattered after the angel falls excursions and so no one minded a full days truck drive. We stopped at Makro to try and buy that nights group cooking food but it was a challenge. Sugar for desert? 5kg smallest bag. Unless your feeding the 5 thousand everything came in too big packs.

All day it rained leaving the truck hot and sticky as it was too wet to open any windows - our only AC. Ollie cooled himself down by buying a 1L tub of ice-cream and eating the lot. Then hastily telling me he felt sick and it was my fault he ate it. Child.

(Ollie says: We parked up at the petrol station and filled the truck up with diesel. The 280 litres of fuel cost the same as my tub of ice cream - US$4!)

We stayed at El Dorado on the riverside, at a campsite with two toilets and no doors. That night you could hear boats moving up and down the river well into the early hours and we were told they were smugglers. This place is close to the border so the river makes it easy for people to smuggle petrol. Sometimes the national guard would have a watch post here to try and stop the smuggling but the campsite owner told us they went home after a few beers in the afternoon!

We had a BBQ at the riverside listening to the boats whizzing up and down the river and all desperately tried to avoid the toilets all night. I am so glad the camping bit will soon be coming to an end.

Ciudad Bolívar is a bit of a nothing town and the only reason we visit here is that it is the starting point for our optional Angel Falls trip. The price had risen from US$280 to US$400, but so far on this leg we hadn't spent much money, so we decided to go for it. I used the last of my funds to pay for the trip so i was hopeful that it would be worth it.

The campsite we stayed at in Ciudad Bolívar was owned by a crazy German guy and it had a pool table, a swimming pool and some cages containing a peccary, a deer and a couple of capuchin monkeys. I amused myself by feeding the monkeys honey, which they licked off my fingers.

The next day the truck took us to the airport, which was pretty basic. Most of the group were taking the trip so in total they squeezed us into 4 small planes. Our plane contained 4 passengers, which the pilot seperated out according to weight so it doesnt tip the plane. I was sat in the middle on the back seat on my own (presumably because I'm so light). The journey to the Cainama National Park passed over the beautiful jungle with striking tepuis, rising high above the jungle. The reason for getting a plane to our location became clear - there are no roads anywhere to be seen. This area is completely isolated. There are no buildings, no farmland, no boats anywhere. Our destination was a small village with an airstrip who's only function is to be a starting point for the Angel Falls trek. The village was built here because it was next to a waterfall, so boats could not transport building materials any further. We landed on the gravel runway and were transported to our hostel. Because of the expensive importing cost and tourist requirements, everything here is expensive. Me and Dee went out looking for chocolate and the local shop had mostly-empty shelves except for some ketchup, salt and oil. I wondered what was for dinner. Beers here were also really expensive unfortunately.

That afternoon we went to the local waterfalls where it was possible to walk behind them. Everyone was dressed in their swimming costumes as we were expecting to get wet. We did. Being behind the waterfall was amazing. The noise and pressure of the water was intense and the sense of power was overwhelming. We went through 2 waterfalls in total, the second was much more powerful. It was like being in a typhoon (I imagine). Water drops smashed into our faces like pins and we had to shout over the noise of the water. We saw some swallows which live behind the waterfall, somehow managing to fly through the wall of water to the outside. This was certainly a unique way to experience a waterfall.

Dinner that night was an expectedly bland pasta with generic sauce and the veggie option - pasta with a sprinkling of cheese on. I'm glad I eat meat. The next day we headed out late morning for the trip to Angel Falls. The starting point for the trip is at the waterfalls we visited the day before. We set on an uncomfortable dug out canoe and set off up the river. Half an hour later we had to get out and walk while the boats navigated a fierce bit of rapids and we had an opportunity to swim in the river while we waited for the canoes. When we set off again the river started to become scarier, as the motorised canoe shot off up the white water, a few times the the level of the water came dangerously close to the top of boat. Dee looked worried so she just looked down towards the bottom of the boat. If she can't see it, it can't scare her. After an hour or so, we stopped for lunch at a place the guides called Happy Pool. It was a pretty waterfall with a pool for swimming in. It was happy, even though there were large water spiders on the rocks around the water.

After a bad sandwich we set off again up the rapids and the scenery became even more dramatic. Tepuis are table top mountains indicitave of this part of South America. This land was once part of the African super-continent and are so old they have been eroded in strange ways. Mount Roraima is the tallest and most famous of these tepuis and Angel Falls falls from the largest tepui, Auyantepui. These massive, cloud-topped mountains rise from the jungle like huge buildings and impose over the river we were travelling up, like giants peering over at us tiny people. It was the most dramatic scenery we had seen this holiday. We passed many tall waterfalls that we excitedly point at thinking it may be Angel Falls, but an hour and a half later we turn a corner and we are confronted with a HUGE waterfall, like a God taking a leak. This waterfall stands out a mile compared to the rest and made us all go "wow".

We stopped by some huts (the only sign of human life we had seen in 3 hours), and disembarked onto the pink rocks that give the Churun River it's tea brown tint. We changed into our walking boots under the shadow of Angel Falls for the jungle trek to the viewpoint. The path was well trodden, but there was no man-made walkway. We had to splash through puddles of mud and climb over large tree roots before the route took a steep turn upwards. The jungle here was humid, but shady, and not too different to the other jungle we had trekked in many times in the last few months. After a sweaty hour's trek, we scrambled up a final large rock and we were at the mirador. Angel Falls was about 400m away from us, the other side of the small valley carved by the falls, and we could still feel the spray. The base of the falls was just a fine mist where the water has so far to fall and loses weight and velocity. Angel Falls is the world's highest free-falling waterfall at 979m, with a clear drop of 807m. We were there during the rainy season so the water was beating down relentlessly. Apparently, during the summer months, it is possible to hike right to the base of Angel Falls and to touch the walls of the tepui. At the time we were there, the base of the waterfall was like a being in hurricane, and it was not safe to continue. Huge waves of water vapour exploded out in rolling clouds from the bottom 50m of the plunging water. We stood around for an hour, taking in the scenery, before slogging back down to the river and the hut we were staying in that night.

Well, I say hut, but it was just a large sheet of corrigated iron with hammocks and a long table. There weren't many home comforts here, except an unclean blanket which we were issued. The hut was open to the jungle, so at night we had many visitors in the form of ants, mosquitos, frogs, moths and other large, probably blood-thirsty, insecty things. Where I lay, I could see Angel Falls and the noise of the beating water constantly whooshed in the distance. I have always had difficultly sleeping in a hammock because I like to sleep on my front, and that night was no exception. I was still awake at 5am and I almost got up with the other 4 guys to trek through the dark jungle to see the sunset shine on Angel Falls, but I could hear rain and I could see it was cloudy, so I just lay there in my hammock. That was a good decision because the guys came back saying they couldn't even see the waterfall through the clouds.

The journey back the next morning was tough. Our bums still hurt from sitting on the hard seats the day before and sitting down again was like sitting on large bruises. Softening the seats by using the life jackets helped a bit, but after 3 hours going downriver in the pouring rain, everyone was moaning with pain.

Back at Cuidad Bolivar I got the terrible news that my Grandfather had passed away. He had been very ill in hospital for the past 3 weeks. The family had discussed it and decided that I shouldn't return for the funeral. There was only 3 weeks left of my holiday and I was really hoping he would hold out and I would get to see him when I returned. He was a great man and a very strong character. I will certainly miss him.

After our few days relaxing at the ranch it was time to head back into the sweaty wet jungle. This time we were staying in a lodge a good 2hr from town so as we waited for our boat transport we watched the locals unloading their cargo of goats. They were packed into a dug out canoe and all looked rightly petrified. We looked on horrified as they were picked up by their ears and thrown onto the back of a truck for their next adventure.

Our boats arrived, and I have to say I was relieved when it wasn't a dug out but a speedboat with comfy seat - sweet! The water was covered in floating lillies and we raced down the river through all the greenery. There were small huts on stilts by the riverside with families chilling in hammocks watching their children playing in the river, all complete with the essential, skinny and barking pet dog. We also saw some howler monkeys.

We arrived at the lodge just as the heavens opened jungle style. Lunch was eaten listening to the hammering rain and crashing thunder. Half way through lunch I was interrupted by something patting me on the shoulder softly. I turned round to be greeted by Rosetta, a semi wild monkey, I thought maybe she wanted spaghetti but turned down all food, she just wanted to sit and hold my hand.

When the rain had calmed a little we made a dash for the room. This lodge had a penchant for animals, apart from Rosetta the hand holding monkey, there was a macaw that was able to fly and insisted on being the centre of attention by copying human laughs and stealing food. There was a puma in a cage that at one time had strayed too close to the village and instead of killing it, the lodge persuaded locals to capture it. Ollie’s favorite was the semi-tame ocelot that they kept on a chain but moved around daily. It had an obsession with trying to claw feet – not good for those wearing flip-flops as it still had its razor-sharp claws intact. I knew exactly what Ollie had been doing the time he walked over to me with his big toe covered in blood – that’s what you get for tormenting an ocelot with a towel and thinking its chain is shorter than it really is.

Back at the room as we were getting ready to head out into the rain I was doing a quick inspection (as always) to see if anything nasty was lurking. I never expected to find anything but as I looked, something right in front of my face caught my eye; grey and furry. Crap. Tarantula. I thought they moved quite slowly but as Ollie excitedly ran over and blew on the thing it moved so quickly it looked like it had jumped, exactly like a scene from arachnophobia. At the same speed I had ran in the opposite direction, closed my eyes and stood on the bed while screaming at Ollie for disturbing it. He then starts laughing and asks me why I'm stood on the bed "I'm looking at the ceiling checking for more" I lyingly replied, my eyes still shut tight. Terry we called him, he was happy to sit in the corner of the room away from the beds, I was happy for him to stay there. I did on occasion threaten him with the bug spray if he moved.

We have by now spent a long time sat on boats going up and down water ways but only in the dugouts, so we were all happy to hop back onto the speedboats for the afternoon. 4 hours later we’d traveled through miles of river ways, ate the fruit of life, seen howler monkeys and drank rum and coke. Its no Los Llanos if you’re after wildlife but speeding down narrow Lilly filled waterways on the boat makes up for it.

That evening we sat on the dock to the lodge watching a lightening storm located in a single cloud on the horizon and keeping a beady eye on all the tarantulas on the ceiling inside hiding from the rain.

The next day we got up early to go down river for 2 hours for a jungle walk. It was pouring it down and we sat on the boat holding a huge piece of tarp over our heads to try and keep slightly dry. With the rain and the wind from the speedboat I was freezing and relieved to finally arrive at our destination. We were heading out for a walk in the jungle and as always it was time for me to make that painful decision. 80% DEET so no insect bites but get wet, or raincoat and insects inside it (wear both and the DEET melts the plastic and it sticks to your skin – nice!)

Gumboots on, gap in the rain, off we went following the guide with the machete (on TV if you see someone running through a jungle its sooo fake, greenery grows back overnight). Useful plants and trees were pointed out and the guide made us leaf umbrella when it started raining. Ollie was made a seed husk hat that made him look like a cheeky elf, but when it rained an orange liquid ran off it and stained his t-shirt. The jungle was really water logged and even with our gumboots it was too deep to walk across so we had to swing across streams and sinking mud by vines.

After the walk the locals showed us how to make fire naturally by rubbing sticks together. The young guide was really trying but failing on the wet, damp day. The old, experienced head of the family was laughing at him and got a fire started with the damp kinder in no time. Ollie tried it and all he made was a blister on his hand.

On the way back we stopped at a local village for the necessary tourist handicraft market. The village consisted of wooden shelters open on all sides and hammocks in the centre. Most of the hammocks had young children fast asleep in them as the women displayed their handicrafts to us, often with a baby nuzzling their breast. They use the local seeds as beads and the vine to crochet into baskets and hammocks. I didn’t see one man. The women were often carrying huge loads while watching the kids, doing their washing in the river and cooking. The guide said most men would be out fishing – which from what I’ve seen is using live bait on a wooden stick and leaving it while you sleep – hard life for the male of the species in these parts!!

The next morning we headed back out on the boats to do a little fishing ourselves; meat bait and free lines. We got a couple of small cat fish and some of the tiniest piranha we’ve seen but that was the highlight of our success.

I sat for an hour back at the lodge, holding rosettes hand as she rested her head on my hand and slept, wondering how I could get myself a pet monkey when I got home. Ollie is monkey boy yes, but it’s really not the same.

On the jungle excursions you only get room to pack a really small backpack and it’s so humid that as soon as you put clothes on they are damp. As we headed back to Cindy our truck we all smelt like we’d been at Glastonbury for a month. It was not pleasant driving after that, more vomit inducing.

I like the jungle, but I now realize I like the TV idealism of it. In there, everything is hard work, you're never clean and classed as food for far too many insects, despite plastic melting DEET. I even appreciate the cold water showers after being in the jungle, and that says a lot.

We didn't know what to expect at this old Venezuelan cattle ranch that has converted into a tourist ranch. We were given printouts about how Chávez is trying to give some of the land back to the people, so he is taking land from the rich ranch owners and giving it to the poor, like a fatter Robin Hood. Some ranch owners have decided to build these tourist lodges as an alternative source of income, and they are luxurious and cheap. This ranch has a swimming pool and our hut was spacious. The grounds are full of ripe mango trees which are feasted on by about 100 guinea pigs, iguanas (bloody iguanas), tortoises, Dee and, the star of the ranch, a beautiful scarlet macaw that parades around demanding attention from everyone. The macaw is like a high maintenance child, attacking peoples feet and lifting its leg up so people can pick it up while it gnaws their arm. I got a nice scratch from that parrot to match my iguana bite from a few days before. For some reason the parrot took a liking to Dee and decided to play the hero by attacking the feet of anyone who went near her, especially me. He had me running around the ground like a madman, trying to stop him pecking my toes off. There was also toucans, caimans, tortoises, monkeys and an owl which were all in cages too small for comfort around the ranch.

The monkey cage was kept out of the way in another field, which I had to go and see. Sadly, the capuchin monkeys looked bored in their small cage and were desperate for attention. I gave them a mango and a rotting stick from the ground which they tore apart enthusiastically, looking for insects to eat.

We spent most of the 2 days playing with the animals (except those damn iguanas), and playing no-holes-barred polo in the swimming pool, while Tamar spent most of the time at the hospital with poor Malcolm, sorting out his treatment.

So we left the idilic Playa Colorada, our last beach, to head inland to Venezuela.

We had a long drive day that day with a lovely bush camp to look forward to so we stopped at Caripe to pick up lunch and chill for a while. The town is tiny and so cook group did their best to pick up things to cook. The vegetarians all looked forward to the freshly bought cheese for lunch but found out it was actually empanada pastry as we all bit into our sarnies - mmm tasty raw pasta.

At the oil bird cave we set our tents up in the car park and waited for the famous spectacle. At sundown, hundreds of birds that live in the huge cave fly out to go hunting together they have the appearance of a large bat as they are flying and communicate with each other by distinctive squawks- a way of upholding their hierarchy. The cave has huge stalagmites and stalactites and the birds use clicks and echo to navigate around them.

The birds fly out in groups of 7 following a lead bird to collect their food, an oily, avocado-like fruit, hence the name oilbird.

All night we could hear the thousands of birds in the cave and above our heads going about their nightly business.

The next morning we headed into the cave early before the other tourists to see their environment better. Led by 2 guides with faint gas lamps we started walking into the dead ended cavern. Instantly it hit me - the smell. Thousands of birds and their 'do-do' had my nostrils reeling. Then if you’re lucky/unlucky depending on how superstitious you are one of the birds hanging like a bat above you would crap on your head. You also have to constantly fight off the thousands of small flies that try and fly into your eyes or mouth and try not to slip on the hundreds of years of bird s**t. It's not a pleasant environment to say the least, but the cave is impressive and I ain't never seen a bird look more like a bat.

We walked 1.5km into the cave, at 800m climbing through a small hole into another cavern. At this point the birds can't fly through so at least it smells slightly better.

As we had just started our return into the bird cavern I'd had enough and was trying my best to get the hell out of there when I heard "Dee, you're needed", a guy from our group had fallen. My initial reaction was 'oh bloody hell, I have to go back into the s**t pit for a sprained ankle'.

When I arrived it was a different story. I saw the guy on the floor, conscious but obviously in pain having fallen off the main walkway awkwardly and landed 2ft below in the bird excrement. On quick assessment I was happy his spine was ok but he had obviously badly broken his right lower leg/ankle and dislocated his left arm. There was a lump just above his ankle, which was his bone sticking out and pressing against the skin. His foot hung like a wet , heavy sock from the end of his leg and his arm below his left elbow was facing the wrong direction. I sent the guides off to get the stretcher and an ambulance and tried my best to calm the rising panic in the poor chap, who had turned delerious with pain. The cave guides tried to help by pulling Malcolm by his broken arm onto the stretcher, so I curtiously told them to leave us alone and with the help of some of the drago guys I managed to stabilise his fractures using belts and fleeces and get him safely onto the stretcher.

I ended up in the back of the ambulance with him and our tour guide taking him to the nearest clinic. At the clinic he was re-assed by their doctors and told he would have to be transferred to the nearest hospital. They wanted to put him into the back of our truck for us to take him, despite his severe injuries and obvious pain. In the end one of the nurses at the clinic called in a favour from her ambulance friend and managed to get him a transfer. They managed to operate on his injuries that day and then he was transferred home for further non emergency surgery. I hear he's doing ok and plans to resume his travels some time in the future and to that I wish him all the best.

So just a warning to anyone who enters the oil bird cave, the guide told some group members that people fall off the path at that point often. Take really good no-slip shoes, take a light regardless of what the guides say and tread carefully.

We drove along the coast, passing many beaches and beach towns. Whenever the truck stopped and the air stopped circulating, the heat was unbearable. Our posada didn't have air conditioning, only dorms with mosquito nets over the beds. The evenings were inexplicably warmer than the daytime, as the breeze dropped. The heat didn't stop me having a go on the free climbing wall though. I completed the easy course without a problem but my unsuppleness and stumpy legs hindered my success at the next level. Damn my stumpy legs.

There's not much to do at Playa Colorada except go to the beach or kayak to the islands off the shore. We were here for 2 days so we booked in the kayaking for our last day. The next day we spent on the beach, which was beautiful and relaxing, but not as exciting as the waves at Playa Colombia.

The kayaking was not something either of us had done before. The group that went out the day before didn't see any dolphins, and the chance of seeing dolphins was the only way I could convince Dee to get in a boat again after the "rafting incident" back in Ecuador. Me and Dee were in a kayak together and I knew there was going to be trouble by the way Dee had a panicked look on her face at the sight of water. Sure enough, as soon as we got in the sea the abuse started; "what are you going that way for?", "why aren't you paddling?", "you're tipping the boat", "well paddle then", "you're splashing me", "we're going to crash" etc. The others laughed as I rolled my eyes. I did make the mistake of letting Dee sit in the back, which meant she could get away with not paddling very hard, while I put in all the work. She was also in charge of the rudder.

We followed the guide out to sea towards the islands in a zig-zag path, hoping to see dolphins. James, in another kayak, took some photos of me with my camera and threw it back to me, which I unthoughtfully leant over to catch. My mistake here was that I thought these things were supposed to be hard to capsize. We both ended up in the sea, our kayak upside down and full of water. Good job my ears were full of salt water at that time so I couldn't hear Dee screaming abuse at me. We swam around and collected the floating debris from around the crash site (bottles of water, sun cream, sandals etc) and the guide helped us empty the water out the boat. Dee gave me a look that could have made Satan tremble in his boots as we pulled ourselves back into the kayak. Luckily Dee's mood lightened when we saw a family of dolphins swim past us about 10m away. I was going to suggest we capsize the kayak again so I could swim with them, but I didn't think Dee would respond positively. It would have been better if the dolphins swam under us, because the water was the clearest I've ever seen, but they just observed us from a distance. After they left we parked the kayaks on a dirty beach on an island about 3km from shore where we did some snorkeling. To be honest, after the Galapagos, any other snorkeling experience is going to be a disappointment. We didn't see much we hadn't seen before, except a sea cucumber which I picked up and played with. After we were bored with the snorkeling Dee had a sleep on the beach while me, Anders, James and Ian went off in search of ice cream.

There was 1 restaurant on the island and when we got there it was overrun by giant iguanas. There was a family eating lunch and throwing scraps to the hungry, aggressive lizards which surrounded their table, up to 1.5m in length. I, as ever, was keen to get up close to the animals and feed them myself. I found some leftover rice on another table and rolled it together to form a nice iguana snack. Timidly, one of the big iguanas took it. I got a smaller piece and tried feeding another one, which looked at the rice hungrily, just as another, smaller iguana ran up to me and took a big bite of my finger. The razor sharp teeth went right into my flesh. It quickly let go and ran off before I could introduce the little bastard to my foot. The bite mark covered the tips of my index and middle finger and blood was pouring from the wounds, which I washed in the sea (looking out for sharks). I used to quite like iguanas, now I hate the little bleeders.

For the return journey I insisted that I sat in the back so I could keep an eye on Dee's paddling and we went a lot quicker (and straighter). We had done a lot of paddling that day and I got blisters on my hands, which, along with the iguana bite, stung really badly when I cooled off in the sea. Bloody iguanas.

That evening, Tim announced that he has had enough of the jungle and wants to stay in Playa Colorada for the next week, so he arranged to meet us again in Manaus at the end of the leg.

Back to Caracas and the end of another leg. We arrived at Caracas in rush hour which was a big mistake. Noel took a wrong turning so decided to go round the block. 2 hours later we were passing the same square we've seen before, just from the other side. It had taken us 2 hours to go 200m round the block. Apparently Caracas has never had town planning, resulting in total gridlock during rush hour and there are still areas of the city that don't have running water.

It was another group meal that night to say goodbye to more wayfarers. Katrina and Mikkel, the Danish couple, were leaving to be replaced by some more Danes. Also there was a white-toothed, smooth-skinned American joining from LA, who had no idea what he was getting himself into. He would become the butt of many jokes during the next leg of the trip.

Our meal was at TGI Fridays for some reason, which was expensive and crap. We left skint and sober so didn't go out afterwards, saving ourselves for the meeting the next morning and welcome party the next night.

As usual at these meetings, we were briefed on what to expect on the next leg. The included a lot of places where there was no access to the internet, a worry for me because my granddad was ill in hospital. We were also told that the price of the Angel Falls trip had risen by US$150 to US$400, which meant we would have to save up for it.

That evening we ended up at a cheaper restaurant where Dee could afford a bottle of wine. Despite her ordering the wine and asking for 1 glass, the waiter looked confused and still brought out 2 glasses. He obviously didn't think Dee could drink a whole bottle for herself, the fool. We all went to an English bar afterwards which was small, trendy and expensive.

It was such a nice feeling setting off to drive to the beach after being in the sweaty mosquito infestation of Los Llanos. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed Los Llanos, but I enjoy sand, sea, sun and hotel beds a whole lot more. We had a 5am start as Puerto Colombia only has one road in and one road out. After an obligatory stop at McDonalds for lunch decided by the truck majority (I had arepas from the servo, won't eat from the golden 'M') we headed into Henry Pittier national park. It’s this N.P. that makes Puerto Colombia so hard to reach. The one road snakes round lush tropical mountains and valleys. It’s hardly wider than a single carridgeway; it is a two way road that makes things interesting when another vehicle approaches. There are very few passing places and the bends are so tight climbing the sheer mountain faces that our truck had to make several attempts to get round them. Once we hit the town we realised the town wasn’t really built for vehicles, narrow roads with tight corners made our truck destroy more than one house roof corner or wall. 14 hours later and we'd made it. With the budget dwindling with the rising Venezuelan economy I enjoyed every drop of my glass of cold white wine I’d ordered instead of food, Ollie had the beer and we tucked into the free table bread with gusto.

After spending a luxury night with aircon we woke to bright sunshine and headed for la playa. 10min walk over a footbridge and down a small road which opened into a beautiful small cove. Sheltered on each side by green mountains that curved round to hug the beach, the sand was white and the sea crystal clear. Ollie got straight in the water, to do battle with the six foot waves. They were obviously a lot more entertaining then me as he emerged like a bright red prune 8hrs later. I went in up to my ankles but it was cold, involved water and I had a really good book to read. I played roast chicken, gently cooking myself in the long awaited sunshine until I was golden brown and hungry.

That evening we wandered down to the harbor. I sat opposite Ollie at dinner and sweated in the radiating heat coming of his bright red burnt face. As we ate our tea, we watched the fisherman bring in the days catches. There were hundreds of fish; most of them were the size of dolphins and some with long pointy faces? marlin?.

We had the next morning to enjoy the town before heading out. I went down to the beach and actually went in the sea up to my knees. Ollie stayed at the hotel and watched wild monkeys playing in the trees outside our room. Puerto Colombia is hard to get to but well worth the visit if it’s the quiet idealistic tropical beach stop you're seeking.

One thing I must mention that I have noticed in northern Colombia and Venezuela. What is it with the bellies guys? It seems here it's cool to pull up your t-shirt to your chest and let it all hang out. And really, size does not matter, the bigger the beer belly, the higher the t shirt gets pulled up giving you a great view of what appears to be the male version of late pregnancy. I know it's hot, but really, must we all suffer? It's even coming to the point when Ollie thinks its a good idea, god help us.

6am start and we were on the truck heading into the Los Llanos region of Venezuela. This region is similar to the Pampas in Argentina in that it has many huge cattle ranches and real cowboys with real cowboy hats and horses. We passed through thousands of acres of lush green farmland, grazed on by the Indian "Brahman" breed of cow, which are very docile, more resistant to ticks and, best of all, have funny big ears.

We stopped for lunch in Barinas, a typical town in this region. We were surprised to see huge 1m long iguanas in the central plaza, darting easily up the trees when we approached. There were beautiful yellow birds and even an owl sleeping on a branch high in a tree, which we tried to wake up by shouting and impersonating mice. The locals looked at us as if we were mad to be taking photos of these animals. Just as everyone was relaxing by the park we heard a huge crash in one of the trees followed by an almighty thud. We spun round to see a huge iguana splatted on the path, still on the branch which had collapsed under its weight. It sat there for a bit looking around puzzled, and, as casually as it could, it climbed back up the tree it fell from. Everyone found this hysterically funny and we laughed for a long time at the poor iguana's expense.

Our bed for that night was at a jungle lodge outside town in the middle of nowhere owned by a New Zealander. There were opportunities to do white water rafting here, but there was no way Dee was going anywhere near rapids again. I swam for a while in the river with the Danish couple, Mikkel and Katrina, and then 4 of us went on the jungle trek with Alan. Alan is our wildlife guide for the next few days in Los Llanos and fancies himself as a bit of a Steve Irwin. We didn't see much we hadn't seen before in the jungle in Ecuador. I was hoping to see a snake, but the best we could come up with was a furry caterpillar. Alan is also a collector of butterflies and had discovered a couple of new species, but apparently that isn't too uncommon in the butterfly world. We slept in our mosquito-netted lodge for 14 people and lit a mosquito coil to kill all the creepy crawlies that had somehow snuck in.

The next day we got on the truck with Alan instructing us as our guide. We were heading towards his lodge in the middle of Los Llanos when we spotted our first anaconda. Unfortunately it was dead on the side of the road, having been run over, but it still got people excited and hopeful that we would see one alive. If one man can get us an anaconda it was Alan (he told us) - his record is 11.5 in one day (10 alive and 3 dead - they count as half).

Alan's lodge was in a village called San Vincente on the Apure river. Most people here are farmers or fisherman, and some of the money we have paid goes back to the village, supporting the school and educating the people about conserving the wildlife. When we arrived, the heat was oppressive and the lodge didn't have aircon. 8 of us were in the room with beds, the rest were in hammock room upstairs. After a sweaty siesta we headed out on our first boat trip on the river. We were trying to spot river dolphins and Alan knows where they like to hang out. The boats stopped at the mouth of a tributary and the drivers revved the engines, which gets the dolphins curious. Soon enough someone would shout "OVER THERE!" and we'd all spin round excitedly to see the remnants of a splash. A couple of times I saw a fin above the water but was too slow to photograph them. The dolphins got braver and more inquisitive and started to jump higher to see what was happening on the boat. I got a lucky shot with my camera and photographed one with it's head out of the water, which, Alan says, is quite a rare thing to do. They are ugly. Really ugly. They aren't cute, like Flipper, they are an ill-looking pink colour with swollen looking f aces. More like Flipper with some kind of terminal blood disease. They had begun to lose interest so I asked if I could get in the water to try to bring them back. Alan thought it might help so I jumped in and made plenty of splashing sounds and funny noises underwater. One dolphin surfaced briefly about 4m away from me, but the water is so murky I wouldn't be able to see them if they came close anyway.

We were shown some more wildlife which is indigenous to this region. The boat driver caught a vegetarian piranha and we saw a strange, prehistoric turkey-type bird called a Hoatzin bird. It is thought to be the missing link between dinosaurs and birds because before 3 months old, the young have claws on their wings, like little dinosaurs. The bird is not a member of any super-species, and has no sub-species, it is it's own genius. And it's loud, fat, ugly and flies badly, so I'm surprised the species has lasted so long.

The 2 boats pulled into a tributary and we were handed fishing lines with cuts of meat on the hooks (the vegetarians opted out). Here was a good place to catch piranhas. As soon as I threw the line over the side I could feel slight pulling on the line as the fish nibbled the bait. There were a lot of piranhas around the boat and they were hungry. I would quickly yank the line to find that those damn piranhas had nicked my bait. Each time I was so close, but these piranhas were too nifty. Joakim, a skilled American fisherman, was the first to catch a big one. Alan passed it around, showing off the red bellied piranha's huge razor-sharp teeth. Not many other people caught piranhas, but the free beers were being handed out and it was fun trying. After losing half a cows worth of bait, I managed to catch a small catfish, and, right towards the end, James amazingly caught 5 piranhas in a row, with the same bait, which we had fried for dinner that night (the fish, not the bait). Dee put her fingers in her ears to block out the sounds of the fish being whacked on the head by a wooden club. She was enjoying just feeding the fish and didn't want to catch any.

After the sun went down things got serious again as we went anaconda hunting. The boats had big lights powered by the engines which were shone on the banks of the river and in the trees as we sped past. After about an hour we hadn't found any anacondas but Alan disappeared into one of the trees and emerged again with something big in his hand. He threw it into the boat and the animal scuttled around under everyone's feet. People screamed as the thing moved from the front to the back of the boat, like a Mexican wave. The large iguana was quick and panicky but I managed to grab it by the back legs and pick it up. Alan released it into the water and it swam to the shore and climbed up a tree. Over the next hour in the boat we didn't see any anacondas, but Alan caught us another couple of snakes. He broke off a branch which contained a brown tree snake. It bites, but it's not poisonous. Alan passed it around the boats so everyone could get a photo. Me and Dee were surprised to find out that Tim had a fear of snakes and when Alan moved the branch towards us, Tim all but jumped out of the boat to escape. The snake tried to attack Alan a couple of times but he was too quick and moved the branch away from himself and the snake snapped only the air.

The next day we were awoken at 4:47am to adventure out looking for special animal on the plains, and early morning is the best time to spot them. It was still dark when we woke up and bats were flying around the courtyard and coming to rest above the toilet door. They were tiny and cute, like mice. They disappeared up a crack in the ceiling and we left in the back of a cattle truck, the sun rising in the distance.

It wasn't too long before we stopped on the road between 2 fields. 2 of the drivers got out and legged it into the field on the right. Far in the distance like a tiny black dot, a black animal, the length of a human, bounded further into the field. The 2 drivers sprinted for ages after the giant anteater, until they were like 2 dots chasing another dot. Alan had a pair of binoculars, but soon they were so far away it didn't make much difference. The anteater had escaped and the sun was rising higher, making it less likely to spot another one. The drivers returned slowly, knackered after the chase. We didn't see another anteater that morning, but we arrived at a local ranch where we could walk around and spot wildlife.

Straight away there was a pond full of caimans, with a huge family of 30 or so capybaras in the distance. Us 'oldies', who had been on since Rio in February had already had our fill of caimans and capiburas in the Argentinian Pampas so we yawned our way through the first bit while the newbies took photos of the sunbathing caimans and the dead, vulture-chewed capybara on the side of the road. Alan told us that there are only 2 species of crocadilians in South America; the common caiman and the almost extinct Orinoco crocodile, which was over-hunted for its beautiful, handbag-patterned skin. The owner of the ranch told Alan he saw an anaconda in a pond up ahead and we all perked up. The driver picked up the dead, eyeless, half-eaten capybara and threw it in the back of the cattle truck we were travelling in, which grossed us all out. Further up the road Alan spotted where the anaconda was. Part of the snake was poking out from under the reeds and it had eaten something big, like a baby capybara or big caiman. Pete, with his eagle eyes, spotted the head poking a foot away from the bloated, floating lump in the stomach. The head was the size of a big burger, Alan estimated it was 3 metres long, a big one by any standard. He needed some people to help get it out of the water and I jumped up to lend a hand. Alan was looking a bit nervous as he prepared to grab the snake's head. I was in charge of the tail and the 2 drivers and Ian were in charge of the body. Alan counted down and we all pounced on the huge animal. It was strong - I struggled to stop it's tail coiling around my arm. With the added weight of it's dinner, it must have weighed the same as a human. It was 8 years old, 3.5m long, female and it pumped out stinking white liquid from it's anus, which, I didn't realise till later, was impossible to get off. I should have grabbed the body, not the smelly end. Alan passed around the snake for everyone to have their photos taken with it. When Ronak took the snake, everyone backed off. Ronak can barely hold his own bodyweight, let alone a huge, deadly snake's. But, to everyone's surprise, he didn't let go and no one was horrifically mutilated.

Once we all had our fill of photos, we put the anaconda back where we found her and she swam off, the lump in her belly still floating above the reeds. Alan told us there was a special animal that we were going to see next, so we drove deeper into the ranch, the smell of anaconda goo and dead capybara making us all gag. Good job this is an open-air cattle truck. We speculated that we might see a puma or jaguar as we stopped by another caiman infested pond, as the drivers began hacking the limbs off the dead capybara from earlier. They attached the bits of flesh to a rope and threw it into the water. Soon enough we saw the special animal - it was an Orinoco crocodile. It was 5 times the size of the caimans, which silently watched the croc take its share if the meat. It was obvious this was king of the pond. The patterns on the skin of the crocodile were beautiful. It certainly would make a nice pair of boots.

On the way back one of the drivers told Alan he overheard the ranch owner say he was going to kill the anaconda because it was too big. It was time for a rescue operation. Like the Thunderbirds, we found the snake again, threw it in the back of the cattle truck and transported it 100m away into another pond where it should stay away from the farmhouse and the cattle.

After returning to the house, washing my hands a lot and getting some sleep, Alan told us of a cow crossing which was happening that afternoon. Some cowboys were going to transport a herd of cattle across the 120m wide river. They herded the cows in 2 batches. The first batch we watched from the bank and for the second half we got in a boat and drove alongside the cowboys. The cows looked completely panic-stricken as just the tops of their heads protruded out of the water. It didn't help that the cowboys were whipping them with big sticks to get them all swimming together in the right direction.

That afternoon we headed out in the boat again to see what we could find. Alan managed to catch a weak, young caiman which we could hold. The drivers of the boat said he saw a turtle, but Alan insisted it was just a log, even after driving past a couple of times to check. The boatman drove to the bank anyway and jumped in the river and pulled out 2 massive mata mata turtles. The turtles are prehistoric and really weird looking. Their heads are flat and their mouths look like they are smiling. They have little pig noses and are nearly blind, but they can scratch with their claws so we needed to be careful when holding them. We let them go in a small tributary and got out the fishing lines again.

This time was even less successful than the first time and nobody caught anything of any note. The driver used a net and caught a big catfish for us all to look at. The sunset that evening was spectacular and everyone watched in silence as the colours went from grey to dark blue to pink and red. We drove around for a while in the dark, looking for more anacondas, but to no avail. In the distance we could see flashes of lightning in the huge clouds from the Maracaibo Lake.

That evening, Pete called me upstairs to the hammock room. He had found a baby bat that had fallen from the ceiling. It was crawling around on the floor squeaking. I picked it up and it was barely the size of the end of my finger. It gripped tight but was so light I could hardly feel it on me. I put it back up in the rafters and it instinctively climbed upwards towards its parents.

We left early the next morning as we had a dangerous drive at the end of the day and Tamar didn't want to drive in the dark. We bid farewell to the Crocodile Dundee of Venezuela at sunrise, and set off towards the coast for some beach time.