Arrived in Venezuela Saturday noon, cleared immigration only to find customs closed until Monday AM - so I couldn´t clear the bike! Caught between two borders, the National Guard guy said ´just stay in town with the bike`. Taichira is a typical border town but the hotel was friendly, gasoline was $0.15/liter, and there were some local events in the square on Sunday day and evening that were fun to watch. Bad news was none of my credit cards or debit card will work in Venezuela! You need an additional ID code - called Royal Bank collect and they confirmed the problem. I had to lift the seat off the bike and get to my secret cache of US$. Given the volitile currency situation I got great exchange rates on the black market.

I was all ready to leave on Monday and the battery is flat! This takes me to a bike shop and an interesting young owner. While waiting for the charger to do it´s work, we do an oil change and have a friend of his make custom Venezuelan flag stickers for the panniers and look at bike magazines. The ride was through mountians again and I only got as far as San Cristobal. It´s a big city and so I stopped by a motorcycle cop and asked where is the hotel district. Once again it´s `follow me`. It was a 20 minute ride through town with traffic magically making way for us (nobody messes with Ven police) to a nice little Posada that suited me just fine.

Next morning it was raining but soon cleared up. About 11:00AM I was going through one of ridiculous number of police checkpoints in Ven. that include a minimum of 4 speed bumps which trucks and most cars stop before passing over. I was getting impatient and cocky so took advantage of my ability to zip over the bumps and was passing a semi in the inside lane when he suddenly moved into my lane. I started to move over planning on heading off-road into an area with roadside stalls etc when in the blink of an eye I was was down sliding along the pavement. By the time I got my wits together I was surrounded by about 25 people all showing great concern about my health. They shouted don´t move! Don´t take off your helmet! For a moment I was afraid they would start CPR! I was afraid that my trip might be over but a quick inventory revealed some sore muscles and bruises but otherwise Ok. The bike! It had already been picked up and didn´t look too bad.

The police arrived and were encouraging me to get checked by a doctor but now I just wanted the incident to be over and me on my way again. The truck driver was pronounced responsible on the spot and I was asked what the cost of repairs would be. The only real damage to the bike was a broken turn signal and my (expensive) aluminum pannier was scraped and bent. we took off the pannier and the truck driver did a credible job bashing it back into shape. He gave me $10 for the turn signal, we shook hands and he was off. I also banged my head pretty good on the pavement but my helmet did a great job as did my riding suit. As hot and heavy as it is - it really performed that day.

With renewed respect for large trucks and a mental refresher on taking stupid chances, I was on my way again. It also felt good that so many strangers were right there to help when it was needed. The rest of the trip through Ven. was happily uneventful. Some long distances to cover and the scenery was wonderful and boring at times. Not until you head south at Cuidad Bolivar does the landscape and people change dramatically as you enter the region above the Amazonia called the Gran Sabana. Spectacular flat-topped mountian rise vertically from a plain that reminded me a lot od Southern Saskatchewan. I was now heading directly south to the Brasilian border. My last stop in Ven. was at Santa Elena.

Arriving at about 5:30PM it was rapidly getting dark and I wanted to find a hotel. As I headed for `Centro´I heard a voice from an incredibly old jeep pickup say, Canadian eh. At the next light I pulled alongside and it was a 66 year old Dutch- Canadian guy, who lives there and insists on helping me find a hotel. This is nice but people really don´t know much about hotels where they live - for why should they. We find a hotel and I offer to buy him a beer. He accepts but says at my bar - he owns the biggest bar it town. We have a nice visit exchanging life stories and I´m in bed by 10:00PM beat.

Venezuela has a very different feel to it than Colombia. It seems wealthier but there are so many people living in poor conditions. Now I went through the middle of the country which is very rural. Caracas is supposed to be spectacular if you like huge cities. Chavez seems sero=ious about building his social revolution based on a personality cult - his picture is everywhere. Gas is cheap and cars are expensive so there are really old american cars and trucks in unbelievable (poor) condition smoking down the highways leaving a trail of leaking oil at intersections and speed bumps that are dangerous for bikes. The food seemed to lean heavily to deep-fried breakfast, lunch and dinner. Obesity is as much a problem here as it is in Brampton. Often there are no printed prices because of inflation and the fixed currency which gives a feeling of instability. The people I met are nice. The drivers are agressive and there are police everywhere. It was not uncommon to be stopped at checkpoints 10 times per day and abe asked for documents.

Next morning head for the border after making another great currency exchange from Bolivares to Brasilian Reals. Fiscal instability has it´s rewards. Although it was Saturday, both countries border offices are open and I´m processed in good time. It is nice to hear Portugese again. It sounds so soft and friendly after Ven. spanish.However it is almost impossible for me to speak a word that is understandable. I´m going to try the patience of these poor Brasilians.

Almost immediately, the landscape changes into rain forest then we gain some altitude and the Gran Sabana appears again. It also starts to rain and doesn´t stop until I get to Boa Vista, my destination for the day. The roads are in good shape and are mostly straight so I made good time. Feeling tired I took the first hotel I saw which was pretty drab - really drab actually. !ept my flip flops on while in the room. Had a great soup across the street at a Christian mission cafeteria for 3 reals (about $1.50) It helped off-set the high cost of gasoline. I tried to fill my spare gas container before I left Ven. but, you guessed it, the police were at the gas station stopping gas smuggling into Brasil.

A huge rain storm in the early AM and it rained all day except for the last hour to Manaus. I was getting really excited as the road was pressed on both sides by the rainforest and I knew I was approaching Rio Negro a main tributary to the Amazon river. I arrived in Manaus just as it got dark 6:00PM (why does it get dark so early here). On the way stopped and took pictures at the equator - met a guy there with a sister in Montreal. Took lots of pictures but cannot upload them from here.The roads were really awful that day. So many potholes, construction, mud, and always the rain. It was not cold. The first time I have ever ridden for more than an hour in the rain without getting cold - of course it is 30Ç.

Manaus is very interesting. Visited the famous and renovated Opera House built in 1916. Arranged for my boat passage tomorrow. Bought my hammock - hope I can sleep in it over the next 4 days to Belem. My dream of going down the Amazon should be a reality soon. The boat, the Clilin, looks like it has made many, many trips. So just one more safe trip for me please!