Day 8 - Summit of El Copey - worst flight home ever. Apparently part of the departure tax is $4.50 US for an E. Coli infested burger

Good game out there everybody. . . We got up early, packed up and ate breakfast. We talked to the receptionist who spoke about as much English as I do Spanish, and tried to get the lowdown on just what the hell to tell our cab driver in order not to end up at the dirt road at 75m above sea level at the beginning of our planned El Copey hike. He assured us the cabby would get us to the right spot this time, so after buying some snacks at the Bodegon we hopped in an early 90’s dark green buick sporting fat dragster tires and windows that faded from a metallic green of the same colour at the top to a jet black at the bottom. Our driver was a portly Venezuelan that drove like a bat out of hell. As we cut through the narrow avenues of Porlamar we realized with dread that he was taking us exactly where we did not want to go. Minutes later we pulled up to the same dirt road of a few days ago. We showed him our map and told him we wanted to get as close to the top as we could, by the national guard station where the hike up starts. He did not understand and rolled his window down to ask for directions. Thankfully today he didn’t ask the nose picker and his dad. He asked a gentleman in a shirt that advertised Tourismo on Isla Margarita. This is the guy we wanted. He didn’t speak a lick of English, but after Alaina protested the idea of hiking from this point, evcen if it was up the suggested alternative trail to our left, I got out of the car to join the conversation. Which was mostly in sign language and whistles accompanying ballistic arm movements describing abrupt ascents, whether they be on foot or by car. I described with my own hand signals the location I desired, with the national guard station and the walk up, and the tourismo guy nodded with understanding. So back in the cab we got and our guy whipped through a little town called sierra (consistent with our map) and up the mountain to an altitude of 410m. This was more like it. We paid him and he offered to return in 3 hours to get us. Nice of him. We took the offer and set off. The hike was easy as it was all on road, but the switchbacks numbered many and our final altitude an hour and a half later was 865m, and the vegetation had changed drastically. We had seen bromeliads and tree ferns all the way up and the air was cool. At the peak it was almost cold, and the brush had become short and stunted. The peak of El Copey allows a breathtaking view of the whole island. We could see weather happening. The mountain range we were on was taking all the precipitation for the plants it housed, giving rise to thick rainforest, and on the other side nothing was left. The result was a stark contrast between arid red soil and ocean off in the hazy distance. It was beautiful. Lizards darted across the hot road as we descended after having our snack. We messed around a bit with the sensitive plant that grew at the bottom before descending back to the national guard station. We walked to a restaurant next door and enjoyed a beer on a balcony over the valley that housed the city of Porlamar, and at exactly 12:29 a huge souped up green buick whizzed by our field of view. The people here are observant. The owners of the restasurant immediately figured out it was ours and whistled it back. We paid less than a dollar for our two beers and we were off without a hitch back to the hotel. We hit the beach next and lounged the afternoon away. I caught the biggest wave of my life and surfed it face down about 60 ft from where it started to break almost right into shore. We topped it all off by having gone along the strip into a local bodegon and having picked up the legendary cheap liquor of Venezuela. I picked up a bottle of Venezuela’s finest Gran Reserva Rum (1 L) for 11,000 Bolivars. At 2300 bolivars to a dollar, you do the math. Picked up a bottle of gin for 8000. Laughing. Hopefully Canada doesn’t find it because I’m sure as hell not declaring it. We went back to the hotel and got on our bus to the airport where we now reside waiting for our red eye flight to board. I think they took back all the money I saved by charging me $50 American to leave the country, and then another 4.50 for the friggin hamburger I ate for dinner. Which was awful. Nonetheless our excursion was an expedition not soon to be forgotten, and I have to say things went in an uncannily smooth way the whole time. Let’s hope the trend continues for the flight, only 5 hours till home once we take off. . .

Note: I spoke too soon. The awful cheeseburger I ate: Contaminated. I caught a case of food poisoning so fierce I puked twice on the plane, 2 times in the airport, once after getting out of Alaina’s dad’s truck as we got home, and once after I went to bed. The entire next day I was bedridden, and only now do I feel better. Awesome.