Wednesday, October 25, 1995 - Isla Margarita, Venezuela

At last, a day when we didn't have to go to an official! We paddled ashore and explored the Castillo. It's in remarkably good condition for a fort that was built between 1644 and 1664. There was a tiny jail in there that I'd hate to be locked up in. From the upper level, there was a glorious view of the bay. Below, at the moat level, were twelve rusty canon and room for three more. As usual, we went to McDonald's for lunch, but instead of eating dessert there, we went to the Italian ice cream parlor. Roy had a strawberry shake, and I had a chocolate shake. They were the biggest, most elaborate shakes I'd ever seen! They were topped with whipped cream. Roy's had a fresh strawberry on it, and mine had chocolate sprinkles. There were even paper parasols stuck in them. They were delicious! (The shakes, not the parasols.) We wanted to go to the ferry terminal, which is 30 kilometers west of Porlamar. Wandered around downtown looking for the bus terminal. When a friendly man greeted us in something resembling English, we asked him. He told us to go three blocks straight ahead, turn right one block, and then turn left. We followed his directions, and lo! there were the buses. One was just leaving for Punta Piedras, where the ferry terminal is, but it was full and the driver wouldn't let us on. He said, "No puerta," which means no one can ride in the doorway. In a couple of minutes, another bus came along. It was empty, so we got on and sat down. The seats were comfortable, but the bus was stifling hot. We sat there for what seemed like forever until the bus was full. Then the driver took off. We finally got to see something of Isla Margarita besides the Pampatar-Porlamar area. It looked a lot like the ABC islands -- flat and arid and full of cactus, although there were a lot of green bushes too. We were disappointed when we got to the ferry terminal. The ferry was at the end of a long dock, which we couldn't go out on. Dozens of people, with their belongings piled beside them, were waiting patiently on benches. A posted sign showed the times the ferry left, but there was no indication of the fares. Apparently, the ferry only went to Puerto La Cruz and Cumana. We had hoped we could take a day's excursion to Isla Cubagua or Isla Coche. We strolled along the waterfront for a ways. The town or village reminded us of Mexico and Central America. No wealth here. Some boys pestered us for money. Apparently, "money" was the only word of English that they knew. I kept saying, "No!" but one persisted. I finally got angry and said, "No damos moneda!" (We don't give money.) He got the message and left. Guess he was surprised that a gringo could speak Spanish. We came to a pleasant area where a garden had recently been planted. There was a plaque indicating it had been created in July, 1995, in memory of "pescadores que vuelvan sobre el agua con pies desnudos" or something like that. As closely as I could translate it with the help of my Spanish-English dictionario, that means, "fishermen who return over the water with bare feet." Oh well, poetry never makes sense in any language. We caught a better bus going back. The windows were open, letting in a good breeze, and the glass was clear, so we could see the scenery, such as it was. When we got back to Porlamar, I exchanged $60 at 240. Roy bought a kilo of grapes at a fruit stand. Unfortunately, ants were crawling all over them, so he didn't want to put them in his backpack. We walked over to Avenida Santiago de Mari¤a, the Fifth Avenue of Porlamar. There were a lot of fancy shops, but there were also vendors of cheap jewelry and knickknacks, with their wares spread on the sidewalk. When we got to Rattan's, Roy sat out front on a bench in the shade with his grapes and ants and both our backpacks, while I went in. In the department store section, I saw a one-burner Coleman stove for about $90. Also saw some filters that may or may not fit. Next time we're there and Roy doesn't have ants, I'll show them to him. Bought a head of cabbage and some carrots and potatoes. Then I stood in line at the butcher counter to get some chicken thighs. The sign said "Muslos de Pollo", but when I finally got waited on, they didn't have muslos, just breasts. After waiting all that time, I went ahead and bought them. As usual, our wait for a bus required a great deal of patience. Bus after bus to Pampatar went by without even slowing down. It was six o'clock and getting dark by the time we were finally able to get on a bus. Of course, it was pitch dark when we got to Pampatar, but there were enough lights on the beach to enable us to get in our Royaks without any problem. Another sailboat had come in and anchored just past Jofian. It had its masthead light on, so we aimed for it and found our boat easy as pie. The German cruiser next to us had mistaken our anchor float for a mooring buoy and tied to it! Roy got him straightened out real fast.