Naguanagua – Tucacas - 95 km
The road left the valley and climbed up and over misty mountains. The route
seemed a sharp climb, but somehow we encountered little climbing. Instead, the
route descended steeply to the coast from where our path veered westerly.
Cycling, one got the feeling that Venezuela was 50 years behind the rest of the
world. Big, old V8 Ford cars came rattling past (generally without any shocks), one
arm hanging out of the window and the other one clutching a beer. Then, seeing a
woman on a bicycle, their heads spun around – they whistled and usually shouted
something in Spanish, returned the elbow to the window and continued down the
road. I swear I could hear a good belly laugh as they disappeared over the hill.
Tucacas - Chichiriviche - 42 km
Soon after departing Tucacas, we met another cyclist who had been riding for seven
years. At the time, we considered seven years a seriously long time to travel. But,
little did I know that 13 years later I would still be touring.
Spotting a sign to the Morrocoy National Park, I turned off to see what the park was
all about. The park turned out to be a stunning area consisting of beautiful, isolated
beaches and small islands, as well as mangrove swamps teeming with birdlife. At
last, I had the opportunity to see Red Ibises up close and couldn’t have been
happier.
A chest infection made us stay the next two days. Thank goodness Chichiriviche
had a wonderfully comfortable pousada, which sported loads of books, and a cute
little garden area. That evening, on a walk to the pharmacy to get medicine, police
stopped and frisked us, searched our bags and, eventually (and very reluctantly),
let us go.