Having spent the morning sorting out finances
and bank transfers, I spent the rest of the day exploring Ciudad
Bolivar. As in Caracas, shabby exteriors of buildings give way to the
much nicer interiors, even if those interiors are mostly comprised of
row upon row of shoe and mobile phone shops. I managed to find a
great little cheap eatery which served a 2-course meal for 25 Bs ~
£2.50 and got chatting to a university professor sitting next to me
who helped me order my meal. He'd worked in the mines in his youth
and was now lecturing on the geology of mines at the local
university. We chatted about Venezuelan beauty queens (apparently
potential beauties go to a preparatory school in Caracas where any
blemishes they might have are “ironed out” – gutted I missed
that), the perils of working in a mine (of which there are numerous)
and the benefits of getting a south American girlfriend to accelerate
my acquisition of the Spanish language (honestly his idea but not a
bad one).
Here is a quick detour into the stupidity of
the Venezuelan currency. The official exchange rate set by the
Venezuelan government is roughly 4 Bolivars to $1, while the black
market exchange rate is at least double that: 8 Bs to $1. This means
that when getting money out of an ATM you effectively pay twice as
much for everything. Good ol' Chavez. I've managed to avoid having to
do this so far but it just makes everything that little bit more
difficult. Ok rant over.
The coach to Santa Elena and 2 months of
volunteering awaits.
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