I bought a bus ticket from Cartagena to Caracas in Venezuela which means over 20 hours on the bus. I chose to go to Caracas first because I have a friend who lives there and I wanted to see her. The truth is, I also need her help navigating the complex money situation!
I got to the border and approached the immigration window. It's in an old worn building, and about 95% of the glass window is tinted, with just a tiny open section of glass cut out where you can crouch down to look through and attempt to hear what the customs officer is saying.
Around me were Colombians, Venezuelans, and a few Argentinians in our single-file line. As soon as the officer saw my Canadian passport bells went off in his head and he went to the back of the room to consult his co-workers. The look on his face made me it seem like I was the first Canadian he'd seen in his whole career. Several minutes later, he pointed behind him to a notice declaring that citizens from Canada, the United States, and the UK (the evil countries) require 1) a notarized invitation from a company or Venezuelan, 2) a hotel reservation, 3) proof of exit by land or air, and 4) a passport copy. Shit.
There wasn't much I could do, and I ruled out running across the border with my pink duffle bag in defiance. I took my bag from the bus, wrote down all the stuff I'd need to cross the border, then started figuring out where I'd rest my head at night. I went back to the Colombian immigration office to annul my exit stamp, then with some help from a Colombian immigration officer I caught por puesto to the nearest town - Maicao - and booked a room.
My guide book warned that Maicao wasn't the safest town and everyone I met told me to be careful. My Venezuelan friend told me not to leave my hotel, and I followed that advice at first, only leaving for food or to use an ATM. Wikipedia says it's a Hezbollah hotspot and has the second largest mosque in South America.
After speaking with my Venezuelan friend I said that I still wanted to come to her country, but of course only if she had the time and didn't mind helping me with the invite. Thankfully, she agreed to help me. You can't quit the first time you hit a wall! Princess Warrior time ;)
I spent several nights in Maicao, communicating back-and-forth with my friend. Her whole family also got involved, helping relay messages and the like. They had to see a lawyer to write the invitation, followed by a notary. I'll spare you the details, but it was a lot of work, and there was delay upon delay.
While waiting I wandered around Maicao here and there. Lots of motorcycles and greasy guys who want you in their por puesto.
I saw a cow in the middle of a busy street market eating garbage. Lesson to self - never leave home without packing the camera.
the mosque
Hi friends!
We realized that it would take about a week to finalize the invitation and mail it to me. I could have taken a chance and brought a scanned emailed version of the invite, but after all the waiting, money, and effort that had gone into trying to get me to Venezuela, it just didn't seem worth going without the original.
In turn, I decided to head deeper into Colombia and see Santa Marta. Luckily I was able to get a refund for the unused portion of my bus ticket to Caracas which was a significant amount as buses that cross a border have severely inflated prices.
This girl stared at me like this most of the journey :)
No comments:
Post a Comment