As I stepped out of the dubious Immigration Office chance gave me a call and put a white Chevrolet in front of me with two men stepping out. I had already recognized them on the boat. Short question if they can pick me up. My first ride found me! We hit the road. The passenger was Croatian and the driver Venezuelan. He was going faster than all the others, I appreciated that. I had no idea where we were going since I did not had time to buy a map. But they ensured me it would be on the way. Also, they had beautiful latino music playing and I was able to enjoy my first south american kilometers with astonishment and delight.

The ride went on for several hours and it was already dark when we arrived to Carupano. To my wonder the city was right next to the ocean in the middle of the pirate and smugglers area. The beach was full with tires and wracked ship parts. Not looking like alot of beachlife is going on here. Some morbid charme was radiating from the city. Many things in ruins and run down. But friendly, somehow. I liked that place. First thing was to print my route to Brazil in an Internet Cafe. And then, finally, hitchhiking at night. I had waited long for that.

Venezuelian nights are long

But… joy found its depression on the way to my road. When I was captured by some Venezuelans, looking doubtfully at me. They brought me to their illegal house on the beach where the whole family was gazing at me, unbelieving what this stranger in the yellow suit is doing here in the night. Finally they put me to the local bus station close to the Internet Cafe. I shouldn’t be hitchhiking at night, that is dangerous, favelas, pistols and so on. Head-shaking. I was a little mad because I had walked so much for nothing and started again. I still wasn’t late and enough traffic passed the road. After paying the Internet Cafe another visit to get rid of my anger about Venezuelan concerns I stomped defiantly into the night heading for my road. I walked for about an hour meeting some old, russian captains on the way that gave me a ride and finally reached Ruta 10, the road to the Brazilian border. All the way this street. Let´s go for this.

The third car stopped. A jeep with three people. We drove until the next village where I was captured again and brought to another family where the father was supposed to speak German. It became apparent that he was a former tourist guide speaking a little German but perfect English. Wonderful. I received a map, showed them my way and they offered me a sleeping place at one of the jeep-people. I had a hard time accepting. Not my way. I wanted to hitchhike through the night. But since I had a pretty long route in front of me that I wanted to take on relaxed, I accepted. It will be one of the three nights that I don’t spend on the streets for the next two weeks. In the end it was a nice evening with some Brandy, broken Spanish and a lot of fun. I slept in front of the house on my camping mat and at sunrise my hosts would bring me to the next intersection 40km further.

On the next morning, back on the streets, now it’s finally time to start. Hitchhiking in Venezuela was harder than expected. At least for me as I was standing after the first ride for a long time at an intersection. Long enough for me to go to the nearby street kitchen for some food and watch the turmoil and as the people around me. At some point i just started to walk, as always. In search of some shadow.

The Long Distance Lift

After a while a small truck with open cargo platform passed by and stopped 100m further. First I didn’t realize it but then I saw beckoning hands in the distance. I jumped onto it. No boundary between the platform and the road. Some other guy was standing there already and I joined him grabbing the roof rack and we swooshed away. Nearly two hours I spent on there trying to communicate with my buddy in broken English, often interrupted from the heavy airstream. Suddenly I saw… mountains, forests and tropical vegetation. The scenery was beautiful, it reminded me of Asia, Myanmar. The ride started to sparkle me.

Pick-Ups are one of my favourite cars in general. On the platform you are exposed to the clear sky and you can watch the panorama 360 degrees around you, if you want to and if it’s possible, depending on the driver’s style holding tight might be the priority sometimes. I was very happy with that ride and fell in love with the northern part of Venezuela. There are those moments of absolute happiness while hitchhiking. This was one of them.

Inside the car there were two woman, the driver and a young child, the child of my platform-buddy as I found out later. The small family was soon dropped at some city. We unloaded the truck, they took a picture with the strange man in his yellow suit and we drove away. Where to? South of Ciudad Bolivia they were going, half the way to the border. Wow, long distance ride, all in all I have spent 9.5 hours on that truck.

Military is my friend, more or less

In the evening we landed at Upata and again I was thrilled to – finally – hitchhike through Venezuela at night. But my ride dropped me out of safety concerns directly at a military checkpoint. Three uniformed men were sitting besides a table and were told my story. I was given a chair and advised to sit down. I had no idea what was going on so I sat down and watched the scenery. Many small trucks passed to have their papers stamped. Some of them put a wad of cash on the table, one of them 2 beheaded chicken for the soldiers, and all of them passed the checkpoint. After an hour with a lot of traffic my patience was over so I tried to explain to the officer in charge, that I would rather go into the dark after the checkpoint to continue hitchhiking as long as there was still traffic. Hey man, there is traffic. I cannot sit here and miss that. Of course he didn’t understand it and told me to sit down again and wait for a bus that would be coming soon. I always try to avoid trouble with authorities, especially if they don´t speak my language. So i sat down filled with a little bitterness.

A bus, my greatest nightmare. I don’t want to take a bus. I am hitchhiking! I was frustrated and tried to figure out how a paid bus would fuck up my hitchhiking statistics. After that I went for a beer, and another one and something to eat in a nearby pub. About two hours later the moment of truth was there. A bus stopped, going for Santa Elena, 550 km away, the last stop before the border. I was forced to charter the bus and the bus was forced to take me. Win-win situation… not really. Hitchhiking in a socialist country. First I wasn’t sure if I had to pay for it or not but figured that I could ride for free, what made me calm down a little. Technically speaking I was hitchhiking.

After arriving inside of the bus my bad conscience for riding without paying was dissolved since I didn’t even get to sit on the floor because the bus was so full. Standing. The tourist guide leading the bus was definitely pissed because of the situation but I tried to be relaxed about it. It wasn’t easy. In the middle of the bus, right behind the drivers, there was a box standing, terrorizing all passengers with way too loud latino music giving a strange blue light on each bass. I managed to get a seat on the floor after some time but it was right next to the box. It was horrible.

The ride on the bus was uncomfortable and cruel. It made me feel better to have gotten this shit for free so. But we were riding all night through and on the next morning I was at the border. As we arrived at the bus terminal I found myself in the middle of the Amazonas region, left the tourist group from the bus and wondered … where were all the trees? The southern part of Venezuela has nearly no vegetation anymore. No trees, no bushes, I still can’t explain what happened there.

Border Tragedies

I finally found my last ride at the city boundary of Santa Elena towards the border after 1.5 hours walking through the friendly equatorial sunshine. The border would cost me another 5 hours. There was a small container standing around for immigration business. Way too small for so many people. The line was approx. 50 meters long. Five hours later I was informed that this line was for immigration and for emigration there was another line. Very well organized here.

Anyway the waiting was very amusing since within the line an entertaining community constituted itself, shattered by scandal after scandal. At one point the order of the line was disrupted. People weren’t standing on their previous spots anymore, they started to discuss, to swear and always me in the center of attention giving a good point for orientation as the German in a yellow suit. People were complaining that I was now in front of them, others were told to get behind me. There was a line in front of me and one behind me and i was the center of all action.

Besides that, several old, helpless or resolute ladies periodically tried to get their stamps at the container – with brilliant theatrical effort. One lady I watched instrumentalizing her child to get to the front of the line. The mob was outraged. Everybody was watching, cursing or screaming and jeering applause rose as the officer in charge told her to leave. All the time something was going on at the Venezuelan border. At some point I had all the necessary papers and walked over to Brazil. Together with a polish bicycle traveller on his way to get some new dollars for the black market in Brazil and some Brazilian backpackers who had just visited the Angel Falls in Venezuela.

Next stage Brazil

It took me 42 hours in total for 1080km through Venezuela. I was really satisfied. Not much hassle and I managed to get through quite quickly. With Brazil in front of me I went for the upcoming 7000km with strong motivation. After filling my pack with water, a map, chocolate-milk and several Pandas. Toilet paper was still available.

Der Beitrag In 42 hours through Venezuela erschien zuerst auf Warm Roads.

As we were docking at the fishing village a half naked rastaman came jumping towards us, waving charmingly with his machete, screaming, cursing, showing that we are not welcome here either. I felt like within a group of refugees. Hate coming towards us from everywhere, no place to be and on top of all that: this boat. I don’t really wanna call it boat since it was so small and full of holes, but it had at least three outboard motors pushing it. We were going in a convoy of two boats, one with raincover and one without although the raincover was just a plastic sheet nailed to wooden poles. I was a little surprised to see together six outboard engines for just a 70 km crossing but I favoured the theory that most of the engines were extras if the others break. After all we were crossing the channel between Trinidad and Venezuela and the ocean could get rough!

I was wrong with my theory. The three engines were used to bomb us towards Venezuela with maximum speed. They were incredibly noisy all together. Still, the cruise was nice. I somehow fell in love with the Venezuelan coast. High on the cliffs the jungle was majestically reaching for the sky, besides some fishing villages and two industrial sites there was nothing but wild beaches, palms and jungle.
To my further amusement we picked up a hitchhiker on the way. A fishing boy waving at us with his shirt. We turned from our way, headed towards the coast and picked him up. Picking up a hitchhiker here, in the middle of the abandoned jungle coastline, between Venezuela and Trinitad? Awesome! My passion was knocking. Finally: Awaiting Venezuela mainland. Putting my twitchy legs on land. Hitchhiking again, after two months on the sea. And it was supposed to work really well according to Hitchwiki. Especially pick-up trucks. I had really been looking forward to that. Couldn´t wait. the whole continent would open itself up for me, ready to be crossed by all those beautiful roads.
One of those trucks took us from the pier to the immigration office. The loading platform was corroded by rust so that I was able to see the road through the wheel case and also the sills bent to the point of breaking as we sat on them. As fast as possible, only limited by the material, we crossed the city. With about 20 km/h.

Where the hell is the immigration office?

Upcoming is the weirdest immigration I ever had in my life. We arrived at a small house with a man and his family inside, him carrying disgusting infection on his foot which he was bathing in a tub. My fellowship sat down, naturally. Looks like we were waiting for the lady with the stamp. In between we had time to change some money. I had brought Dollars since the official exchange rate was 1$ = 11 Bolivian Dollars but according to the internet you could get 1:75 on the black market. Thanks to the economy and oil crisis my rate was at 1:135 and I heard that you could get up to 1:180. A man with a hat and a motorbike awaited my 30 Dollars and rode off with them. Everybody had warned me about the danger and corruption in Venezuela and there I was handing him the money and he vanished.
After some time he was back and handed me 2700 Bolivian Dollars covering an exchange for 20$ according to our previously discussed exchange rate, Although I had given him 30$. He said that the 10$ had been Trinidad money and there my money was gone. I stayed cool and figured that this was all part of the experience of getting ripped off. My exchange rate was still very good. I was rich here.

Prejudice in my head

Our passports arrived, ready stamped to my surprise. I have no idea how it happened, I never saw any officials. I felt a little illegal but the stamp seemed to be fine so I stopped worrying about that. When crossing the border to Brazil I would be finding out that everything was fine.

As I finally sat in a car, my first lift, i thought about the last hours and realized that I had never had a 10$ note and that the changer didn’t fool me. It was my prejudice about Venezuela making me think that. I was ashamed because I had claimed he had not given me enough. He had just done his business the right way. That’s what you get after several weeks in the Caribbean between aristocratic sailor, that tell you every day how dangerous and corrupt Venezuela was supposed to be. I will be shot, robbed and fooled and anyway, I must be really crazy entering that country. Some Americans even got angry at me, why i go into this danger. Such a scam. In the end it was so different. Venezuela is a wonderful country. But that I would only experience after my first ride…

Der Beitrag Through the backdoor to Venezuela erschien zuerst auf Warm Roads.

General

Since 20th October 2014 i hitchhiked more than 36968,2 km. I had more than 405 Lifts, had to wait in average 23 minutes and 34 seconds and waited in total 182 hours and 39 minutes (which is about 7,5 days). I don´t wanna miss any of those minutes.

The Best

Is…Tenerife. 21 lifts i catched together with Hanna on this beautiful island. 8 minutes and 12 seconds we had to wait in average. I think Lanzarote was even better, but it was before i started with my documentation.
For South America the country with the best statistics is Ecudaor. 14 minutes and 30 seconds in average, till a car stopped and picked me up. 21 lifts in total and nearly 1000 km might not be that representative. But anyway.

The Positive Suprise

Brazil felt like Spain and Italy together. Totally shit. But the numbers speak another message. 15 minutes and 15 seconds average waiting time are close to the values of Ecuador. I catched 44 Lifts and did 6550 km through Brazil, which has definitely a higher represantation than Ecuador. Feelings might be wrong, numbers aren´t in this case. I don´t know how this can be so good, but during my Brazil crossing i felt like i had to walk at least one hour for every lift. Seems like i didn´t.

Mistaken

Totally overrated was Argentina on the other hand. For me one of the best country for hitchhiking in South America. Probably because of the Free WiFi in the gas stations and the comftable mix of warm roads, acceptable food, long ways and Internet. But the numbers are quite sobering. 34 minutes and 50 seconds average waiting time is the second worst for all my countries so far. I have to add, that i did alot of night hitchhiking in Argentina and this might have affected this value. With 8045 km it is also the country which i hitchhiked the biggest distance in. Also 84 lifts represent a big part of my catched cars so far.

The Worst

Definitely Colombia. Not even in the stats, but also how it felt. Don´t get me wrong, Colombia is a beautiful country, nice people, stunning landscape but moving here is just a pain in the ass. 48 minutes average waiting time. Can´t get worser. Allthough i had only in Venezuela less lifts than in Colombia. 943 km is the least distance i did from all countries in South America. But honestly, i doubt that this stast would get better if i make more distance here. Just a feeling. The reasons for this „hitchhiking-disaster“ im going to discuss in my „Hitchhiking in… – Colombia“ article.

My Secret Favourite…

…for hitchhiking in South America is not Chile…..but Uruguay. 88 Lifts: Its the country where i had the most cars and with 2689 km we find it in the upper midfield of the distances. The average waiting time was with 19 minutes and 42 seconds quite good. Even better if we take in account, that most of the time i was with Ralf together as a men/men team. Fucking good time, good job buddy. Also the country where i hitchhiked my first Cargo Train (hitchhiked and not hopped) and beside Syria the place where i got the most of my lovely Pick-Up rides. Unfortunately riding with Pick-Ups is freshly banned by the government, but let´s hope, that the Uruguayans take this law with the same „We don´t give a shit“-attitude as they take the rest of their lifes and still stop to pick up hitchhikers. Just so much fun there.

This table is fucking nice, isnt it?

Hello, you liked this article? Wanna read more? Please help us to translate more of my adventures and click here! :)

Der Beitrag Hitchhiking in South America – Statistically conclusions of my South America crossing erschien zuerst auf Warm Roads.

Honestly, i can´t say much about hitchhiking n Venezuela as i only had 6 lifts during my crossing. But to keep my Hitchhiking in… -Series complete i would like to share my impressions anyway.

Statistics

You can find the Log here. Feel invited to download and play with it.

Hitchhiked distance: 1089 kilometer

Number of lifts: 7

Average waiting time: 31 minutes 8 seconds

Waiting time total: 3 hours 38 minutes

 My Route

I hitchhiked form the very far north-east in Guiria all the way south to St. Elena at the Brazilian border. I had one long-distance lift for about 9,5 hours in a Ford pickup and also a bus ride during the night, which i was forced to take by the local army checkpoint. They didn´t let me hitchhike in the night. The bus was also forced to take me for free, so it was somehow a „lift“.

People

Although all the world told me in advanced about the most dangerous country in the world and all the bad people in Venezuela i only met very kind and wonderfull people and made alot of positive experiences. The people are very hospitality, open and friendly. Beside that they also care alot about your safety. Seems like also the locals find they own country dangerous. I don´t want to relativize this, there are for sure dangerous places and people. But i didn´t met any and the few foreigners i spoke to also never made any bad experiences in Venezuela. All the people i met have been very kind and friendly. Be careful, but also don´t be too scared. Venezuelians are really wonderfull people and worth to meet.

Roads

I haven´t seen anything similar to a highway. But my route was going through the less populated east and around Caracas as also in the west there might be bigger streets for sure. The movement happened mostly on country roads. The road signs are rare, important crossings have some. Apart from that you can go „always straight“ if there is no other way described. The conditions of the roads is average, but okay. Sometimes you find potholes, but in general its a normal road. To limit the speed you have in and outside of towns alot of speed bumps. If you don´t see them it can be very harmful for your shock absorbers: Beside that you need to pass alot of military checkpoints, especially in the east.

Tactics

My impression was, that hitchhiking in Venezuela is not as easy as described in hitchwiki. I had long waiting times, when i was waiting. In general i think it makes sense to use the speed bumps for positioning, because all the cars will have to break hard before passing them. Night hitchhiking seemed to be impossible, cause all the people are so concerned about your safety. Thats why my longest lift left me at the military checkpoint, after nightfall. I had to wait there, till the soldiers stopped my lift. Because of my bad spanish i couldn´t hardly explain, that i want to hitchhike. In the end i choosed the path of least resistance and just waited what will happen. In general i think it is very possible to get lifts in the night, especially at the army checkpoints.

Pictures

Specifics

Venezuela is wild, the people are sincere. I felt in love with that country. In Carupano you have the crashing waves of the atlantic occean and beside that a beautiful coastline, full of trash, tires and wrecks. Not possible to swim there. In general it looks ruinous there, which i personally really like. Unfortunately i was only on transit, but i will come back for sure.

Through the oil- and currency crisis the exchange rate was exorbitant high. American Dollars are needed and you should have them with you. The official exchange rate is 1:6. My information was, that the black market is changing 1:75. In venezuela i changed for 1:135 and i heard of places where they give you a 1:180 change. Thats alot of money, when you consider that a meal costs 200 bolivian dollars in average. Cheap travelling country.

The country is not only rich of wonderful people, but also of stunning nature. Who likes it touristic can visit the highest waterfalls in the world. The Angel Falls are around 1000m high and the water falls down from a high-plateau into the jungle. You can only go there with a booked tour and a 3 day visit costs around 200$. The waterfalls are in the middle of the jungle and you have to go there with a small airplane (ride included in the 200$). There is also a way possible by boat, but definitely no roads to the angel falls.

I personally like the route between Carupano and Maturin very much. The street leads very elegant through the jungle and the sourrunding landscape is absolutely stunning. Can recommend this passage.

Der Beitrag Hitchiking in… (6) Venezuela erschien zuerst auf Warm Roads.