This is just a beginning. I hope to find time to write a more thorough description of my trip and include more pictures.

I took advantage of having some free time at Christmas and being alone to make my first visit to South America. I flew to Caracas and spent three days in the capital city which is alive with activity but soon had me yearning for quieter more scenic places. I endured some long lines of holiday travelers to get a bus out of Caracas. I left a bus station as busy as a fire ant hill that just got run over by a mountain bike. I rode the luxury bus to Puerto Cruz where I spent the night and explored the town. The next day I took a ferry over to Isla Margarita, an island of mountains and beaches. The ferry held maybe 50 vehicles and 500 passengers in air-conditioned comfort with luxurious airplane-type seating with lots of leg and hip room. After a couple of days in Porlamar, the largest city on the island I moved to the little fishing village of Juangriego. While on the island I took day trips to Pampatar, Playa (beach) El Agua and La Asuncion, the capitol. I spent Christmas eve with an eclectic group of travelers staying at modest Hotel El Fortín. I was the only American among a couple of men from Sweden, two women from Norway, a man from Finland, one from Scotland who works in London and a woman from Wales who works in Ecuador. Two French girls living in Montreal and three Germans who emigrated 20 years ago to Nova Scotia rounded out our group. I did not get a picture of them but the next day the Fin and two of the Nova Scotians joined me for a hike that took us to a point high above Playa Caribe north of Juangriego.

After a great week enjoying the beaches I flew over the Venezuelan portion of the Andes to the isolated border town of San Antonio del Tachira. I made a short excursion over to Columbia, just to say I'd been there and see something in that country which currently has a reputation of being a bit risky for tourists. I then proceeded down through the Andes to Merida a gorgeous mountain city high on a mesa and surrounded by 12-15,000 foot mountains. A short day trip from there took me on an incredible mountain road of switch backs and endless climbs to Jají. It was cooler in the mountains but still very hot as we looked at snow on the top of Pico Bolivar nearly 15,000 feet above us. Having been alone a long time I traveled the trans-Andean highway to Valera where I met a cheerful group of natives who invited me to a covered dish holiday celebration. Then I continued out of the mountains to Barquisimeto where I met up with Romina, an adventurous young woman who had studied English for a year at Francis Marion where I work. I hadn't met her when she was here but we made contact through e-mail and I met her and her father in Caracas and she invited me for the New Year's holiday. I rode with Romina, her brother Roland and boyfriend Miguel, in Miguel's Fiat "El Ritmo" to Chichiriviche.