... Then
Francisco also has an aunt and sisters in Cumana ... maybe give us a hand ... (the story of her aunt and sister was not very clear ... then turns to its complication later in the trip ...) Meanwhile I
I trawled the park guide. Prmettere seems fine. There are dozens of beaches, you can reach all with spears, but desperate times, we expect a full house and spears could be packed, one is thrown in one of the beaches along the road as Playa Colorada, or ARAP .. In short we have several escape routes. The guide also tells of other small towns ... like Santa Fe, where there is a hostel for young backpackers ... (I think that's cool ... then I explain that if you go to Santa Fe you're lucky if you come out in their underwear ... it's easy to be robbed or more ...)
the list of things to do at the back there is writing a letter to the lonely planet through prayer to quickly review advice on accommodation for viaggiaatori DIY here in Venezuela ...
Ques'anno there were several bridges, and this is the last until the Christmas holidays. This time (October 12) celebrating Christopher Columbus (¡?!) .. nonstante here all the statues depicting cristoforino be torn down by vandals with the mockery of the authorities but have not the slightest intention of putting them back in place. Colombo has not yet officially demonized as a figure ... but soon Simon Bolivar prendereá also its place. On Saturday comes and we are ready.
Antonio at noon and let us run the first stage is the home of Nabil, to change it and eat something before leaving. About two o'clock, we meet Francisco and the girl who is already the second third beer ... a house load of empty bottles of beer (to save on cash will buy a bit) and set off. In this country every type of celebration, rest, holiday, evening, and divided by the number of beers that are drunk ...
We start off with a delay (to reach Cumana cmq it takes at least 5 hours) and after a quarter of '... now we are already shut down the beer did affect Francisco and the girl .. but happy for them to buy two beers and two for me and Nabil
... The journey is long but enjoyable. We walk the streets not too shabby (except for a stretch suicide of 10 km with whole pieces of the road caved to the rains) running through green pastures and timeless villages, where young people sit on benches on either side of the road at the speed bumps (the Himalayas are not marked in the middle of the road needed to have no demographic breakdowns in these villages that nascnon along the way) to see the cars that are likely to fall over ... good job ... (since Nabil told me with tears in his eyes that even in his country there is such an activity ... the children take a big stone, put it in a plastic bag big enough disguise it and place it in the street ... quiet and happy on the driver notices the envelope ... thinks, "is an envelope ... and passes over them unaware of having to replace, if things go well, oil pan and more ... another beautiful job ... ps if you go in Morocco warned ...)
After four or five well-planned stops (in which incredibly was done in turn to pee, never two at a time) and two refueling stops (during which obvious, you can not do pee ...) we arrive at the destination at 21.00 ... ... ... Cumana find where to sleep?
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