Sunrise from my tent
One last shot of Kukunan
Tiffany and me – self-portrait. We totally bonded on this trek, mostly over how, as a Londoner and a New Yorker, we’re basically flatlanders and at a total disadvantage when compared to the wacky Alpiners (i.e., Germans and Swiss) who made up the rest of our group.
Me with Paraitepui in the background. Paraitepui is the small Pemon village where our Roraima trek began and ended.
The finish line! Here we are rocking out in our matching T-shirts!
On our way back to Santa Elena, we stopped off at the Quebrada de Jaspe, one of the many waterfalls in this region. This is one famous because of the orange-red color of the pure jasper rock over which the creek flows. Pretty cool, huh?
Once back in Santa Elena, Tiffany was good enough to let me use her shower at the Posada Michelle. 30 minutes of intense scrubbing and several razor blades later, I was only mildly gross and felt okay enough to hop on the 10-hour overnight bus from Santa Elena to Puerto Ordaz. The time passed surprisingly quickly, perhaps because of the frequent stops to allow machine gun-equipped soldiers onboard to check our passports and search us (presumably for drugs). In Puerto Ordaz, I hope to update my blog a bit, buy a new backpack if possible, and generally enjoy electric and the other perks of civilization for a day or two…
One last shot of Kukunan
Tiffany and me – self-portrait. We totally bonded on this trek, mostly over how, as a Londoner and a New Yorker, we’re basically flatlanders and at a total disadvantage when compared to the wacky Alpiners (i.e., Germans and Swiss) who made up the rest of our group.
Me with Paraitepui in the background. Paraitepui is the small Pemon village where our Roraima trek began and ended.
The finish line! Here we are rocking out in our matching T-shirts!
On our way back to Santa Elena, we stopped off at the Quebrada de Jaspe, one of the many waterfalls in this region. This is one famous because of the orange-red color of the pure jasper rock over which the creek flows. Pretty cool, huh?
Once back in Santa Elena, Tiffany was good enough to let me use her shower at the Posada Michelle. 30 minutes of intense scrubbing and several razor blades later, I was only mildly gross and felt okay enough to hop on the 10-hour overnight bus from Santa Elena to Puerto Ordaz. The time passed surprisingly quickly, perhaps because of the frequent stops to allow machine gun-equipped soldiers onboard to check our passports and search us (presumably for drugs). In Puerto Ordaz, I hope to update my blog a bit, buy a new backpack if possible, and generally enjoy electric and the other perks of civilization for a day or two…
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