Best Vacation-Worst Vacation-Same Vacation

Since he had arrived 24 hours late on a 48 hour work visa, Hank felt deprived that he could not take in the charm of another undiscovered culture in Port City Maracaibo, Venezuela. The next morning he was at the airport with his boat crew and was not ready to leave an opportunity to explore the local lure and artists.

He asked Captain Jerry to turn his 64 day temporary work experience into a vacation opportunity. With a little Spanish communication, the agent was offering Bogotá for $35 or Aruba/Curacao for $130 round trip as scheduled. The flight had only a one hour layover before returning to Venezuela with a daily option to cash in the ticket.

Hank chose Curacao since he had passed the casino high rise appeal by water of Aruba, and he knew that his dollars were limited. He did not want to face any hassles due or bag searches to a passport with Columbia stamped on it. He had never heard of Curacao, so he was open to adventure.

He was watching the beautifully blue waters surrounding the island upon approach. After arriving in Curacao, he got off the plane with his bag of clothes. The time was 10:35 A.M. The plane was scheduled to leave on 40 minutes later or so. When he walked in the open lobby, he saw a presentation that helped explain the over site view he saw of this beautiful island. In the community presentation of the island was a S.C.U.B.A. Diving brochure. Hank was N.A.U.I. Certified (National Association of Underwater Instructors) from a P.E. fill-in course at U.S.M. At that point, Hank decided to weigh the option of staying here for a few days.

Hank walked directly to that brochure, and did not hesitate to ask a local about the cost of a room. The taxi driver promised a room for less that $20 per night. Since Hanks current budget could afford a few dives, this was like a gift he could not pass on. At that point, he completely forgot about all his plans to explore Venezuela, where his dollar would stretch further. The cab driver was really affordable so Hank asked him to wait while checks into a room. He was hungry so he asked to go where the locals shop and eat.

As he got out of the cab just a few blocks down the road, A local approached him and explained that he will direct to anything on the Island for a dollar or so. Hank just handed him a dollar and walked away a little shaken. He got a bite to eat of the local grill and had a beer on American dollars. He would later learn his name, Kelvin.

As hank explored the architecture of the buildings, he was reminded of Western Europe appeal. He walked across the most unique bridge he had ever seen. It was a floating bridge that would swing open as 300 feet of bridge is cut loose from one shore to expose a ship channel into port. As Hank crossed to the other side, He was met Rashi with a smile, a tall black man who spoke English rather well with a beautiful accent..

Hank learned that the local speak Popoiamentu language, which combines several European languages into one. Hank asked him if he would give a tour. He was more than willing to make a new friend, buy a few beers, cigars food and simply take in the culture. For six hours of guided tour information about this historic island, it didn't cost more than $20 dollars.

Up on sunrise of the next day, Hank woke at the B&B. The “bed” was actually a single cot in a room that measured only 6’X 12’ with a sink. The bathroom was down the hall. Life was great. After breakfast with the other international guests Hank walked right to one of the waterfront casino resorts.

As he walked through the casino, he saw plenty of activity and would stop and play a bill or two on blackjack for 5 minutes and walk away. On his first visit, he walked with 35 dollars and walked toward the beachside of the resort and visit the SCUBA hut. He met with Jason from South Africa that was the local pro diver.

Jason took him diving upon beautiful coral reefs and fish of all colors. Hank was so amazed that he could simply walk in from shore and witness so much beauty. Hank was having moment of pleasure that he had never experienced before. The coral reefs and colorful fish were simply breathtaking.

Since Hank was out of practice as a diver, he burned his tank more than twice the speed of Jason. The first dive was shortened since Hank was running out of air. Jason went over with him the mistakes noticed on the dive and Hank promised to better manage his BC (buoyancy controls) a little better on the next dive.

On the next couple dives, hank was having the greatest time. He had better perfected buoyancy control in salt water. Like a six year old sprouting beans in the window, Hank was seeing nature up close and enjoyed every minute of it.

On his last great diving experience he explored through a sunken ship at a depth of 100 feet. As Jason swam near the wheelhouse door and pointed to the outer rim of the door, he tried anxiously to tell Hank something with sign language. Hank gave up on the message system and continued to explore. He later asked about that crazy sign language. Jason stated, ”That was fire coral, it is very painful if you touch it.” Hank just laughed.

Jason drove Hank back to the hut around the casino pool, where they rinsed the gear for the next diver. Hank was about to go to the bank to see if his money transfer had arrived so he could look forward to the next sites of Jason’s choice tomorrow and the rest of the week.

As Hank was exiting the casino rushing toward the bank, he picked up a brochure about SCUBA and saw some beautiful sites as he exited the casino resort. He walked almost out of the parking lot when he was shocked at the other sites to dive in this brochure and wanted some answers about these other sites.

He returned back through the casino and asked for Jason for the price of visiting these other stupendous adventure opportunities. Jason replied without reservation, “That’s in Bonair, the diving capital of the world. You have to rent a plane to get there from here.

“How much is a plane?” asked Hank with no reservation.

The cost was far out of Hank’s budget, but if he could have, he sure would swim any channel, ride any ferry or drive across any bridge to fulfill the pleasures promised by a simple brochure. Just as one brochure distracted Hank from his planned vacation in Venezuela, to one of his most adventurous vacations, another brochure destroyed all the value of staying another night in Curacoa.

By the time Hank was near the bank the hours had passed, so he had to wait till the next day to get his money. Hank was starting to feel depressed, lonely and bored when along came Rashi ready for some free money from the tourist.

Wee met with his friend named Kelvin and we walked back to Rashi’s place with beers and cigars for all where Kelvin rolled a smoke, and sprinkled some white dust on top. Hank passed on the self rolled products. Rashi’s wife came into the room and offered her services as she removed her blouse and the other men exited. The shy and naïve Hank was in shock, but only reflected to his sister’s advice concerning AIDS and his personal commitment the Ten Commandments. He just talked for a minute, handed her $10 for the gesture and hospitality.

He left and cashed in his last $100 traveler’s check (with one $50 tr. check for absolute emergency) and started drinking alone at a local bar. The next morning, he woke up with $66 in his pocket and severe hangover. Hank no longer appreciated the Island and only wanted this money transfer to leave and tour Venezuela. All because of one dysfunctional brochure presentation, Hank’s vacation was ruined.

The people at the bank told him that his transfer would take at least another week, since any transfer has to clear Europe before it can come to the Island. Hank nearly had a panic attack. He knew that he had to forget about Venezuela and get to Miami before his money ran out. The next flight to Maracaibo, where he planned to leave for Miami at 12:45 P.M., was the next morning at 11: 20 A.M. He had to stay one more night to make tomorrows flight and was hoping to be in Miami, the next day around 2 P. M. the next day.

He arranged for a cab driver to pick him up a 10:30 the next morning, giving him plenty of time to get there. As he was checking through customs, he was asked for forty dollars to leave the country. Once again Hank was in panic mode, he only had $25 in cash and a emergency traveler check for $50. She was gracious to accept the travelers check and return $5 in change.

This concept of punishing your visitors simply pissed Hank off, after he had chosen to share his wealth with so many locals. His flight had a delay and arrived 30 minutes late in Maricaibo. When he tried to redeem his flight to Miami, the attendant (same one that had sent him to Curacoa) broke the news that the daily flight left 5 minutes ago, and is scheduled in 23.5 hours for the next flight.

Hank asked if their was an exit/travel tax for leaving Venezuela, at which time Hank Learned that he had only $5.50 to last for the next day. Once again Hank was in true panic mode like never before…………………………………………………. To be continued in other blogs about touring Venezuela.