With the premeditated precision of a guided missile I made good my exit from Venezuela. I had been through the mess that was Central America too many times and the prospect of passing through in the wet season appealed even less. I made a clean break.

It was with reluctance that I left Colonia Tovar. Such a nice, pleasant and relaxed place was hard to find here in Venezuela. Without the pressures and chaos of traffic and the mad crush of markets in the streets, a pleasant lifestyle greeted those who called this place home.

Yesterday I had only half a plan, so I stayed up late studying and came up with three quarters of a plan. I wanted to get on the west side of Caracas without going through Caracas and yet not spend the entire day doing it.

In Barcelona 5 roads merged into 1...10 lanes into 2. The traffic snarled. The temperature rose to 40C and with it the tempers. The bike baked and so did I.

It was 36C. The humidity was 3 times that but it didn't rain. How could that be? I don't know...maybe my calculation was wrong. I felt like I was standing in a rainstorm. I looked like I was standing in a rainstorm, but the sky was blue...cloudless...full sun.