At La Linea we waited for a por puesta which is basically a shared taxi that waits until it's full before setting off. We had arranged with the driver to drop us at the bus station in Boa Vista while we bought our tickets to Manaus and then take us to a cash point to get some Brazilian money. He would then drop us back at the bus station where we would wait about 5 hours for our overnight bus to Manaus. Simple. So off we set once the last person had joined the por puesta. We only had to wait about half an hour. The journey took us 2 hours to Boa Vista and after dropping everyone else off we jumped out at the bus station and bought our tickets. Then the cabbie took us to the bank so we could get some cash. We were assured we wouldn't have any problems with the cash points in Brazil like we'd experienced in Venezuela. This information turned out to be wrong. After trying 8 different banks and every cash point in each of these I finally managed to get some cash (Jimmy was unsuccessful). Thankfully the cabbie was patient as it must've taken around 2 hours and he dropped us back at the station to wait for our bus.

Now we had a good few hours to kill while we waited for our bus which was at 7.30pm. The bus arrived on time and we took our seats and settled in for a 12 hour bus ride. The journey was OK and we both got a bit of sleep through the night although true to form the bus was like a freezer with the air con going full pelt.

We arrived in Manaus at 7.30 the next morning and after getting our bags we ran into a Brazilian girl who we'd been chatting to the night before. Her bus left an hour and a half before ours the night before and had only just arrived at Manaus. She was sitting with a Columbian girl and her boyfriend, an Irish guy named Rory who we would spend the next few days with.

After a coffee at the station we headed into town where Rory's hotel was. We jumped on a bus and after about half an hour jumped back off and walked for what must have been another half an hour. We finally found a room at a pretty decent hotel near the river and were both glad to get a shower and a rest. Later that night we went out for a few beers and planned to catch the boat at 4.30pm the next day.

Next morning we got up and headed out to buy a hammock for the boat journey. We arranged to meet Rory at the port at 2.30pm and got there in time but no sign of Rory. We waited until about 3.30pm and decided to head for the boat as we were being urged by one of the guys at the port to get a move on. We followed a guy who took it upon himself to grab Jimmy's pack and swing it up onto his head (all very well but the guy was bound to want paying for it). Of course we arrived at the boat and it was incredibly crowded. I think even by the standards of these boats it was busy. The guy who carried Jimmy's bag then took it upon himself to sling the hammocks up in two spaces that didn't exist amongst the sea of other hammocks. It wouldn't have been possible to get into the hammocks if I'd been half my size so later on we'd have to take them down. I must admit my first instinct was to get right back off the boat but we stayed on and took a seat on a bench along the side, taking in the scene around us.

Rory finally showed up at about 4.30pm (the boats never leave on time) and finally we set off along the Amazon.

Once the boat had set off we headed up to the top deck to grab a beer. We were greeted by a Pakistani fellow dressed in white muslim garb who was extremely friendly and seemed very pleased to meet some English speakers. "Come and meet my friends" he told us so we followed him up the stairs. He was travelling with 6 other muslims who were on a mission to spread the word in South America. They appeared to have comandeered the back of the top deck of the boat and they pulled us up a chair and offered us all a cup of fizzy pop. After introductions and handshakes with big, friendly smiles we got chatting and one of the guys explained to us what they were doing. He showed us some newspaper clips of the previous year when they had walked across America doing the same thing and this had prompted several phone calls to the police from worried citizens when they spotted 7 guys with beards and robes walking through their neighborhood. Of course it wasn't long before the conversation turned to religeon and we were earmarked as potential converts. We were saved by the dinner bell so we politely made our excuses and left.

Dinner consisted of some kind of beef stew but it was fine and tasted good. After eating we headed up to have a beer or two. It was around this time that I noticed one of my ankles were hurting. It felt like I'd twisted it although I was pretty sure I hadn't. We sat and drank some beers, played some dominoes and listened to some pretty awful music up on the top deck of the boat (the bad music was a bit of a feature of this particular boat ride and played from around 7am til after midnight at pretty high volume). Once the bar closed we headed downstairs to find somewhere to sling our hammocks. Eventually we found a place on the bottom deck right near the engine. It was very noisy and smelly but felt good to finally get our feet up and sleep. The next morning we got up early and had to move our hammocks. There were quite a few stops along the journey and alot of these involved taking aboard cargo. The bottom deck was where the cargo bays were accesed from so sleeping here was going to be a problem.

After getting up I noticed my other ankle was hurting and both ankles looked like they were a bit swollen. This carried on getting worse throughout the day until eventually I was walking like an old man and I was having great difficulty with the steep stairs on the boat. This wasn't helped by the fact that there was nowhere on the boat to lie down or get any peace as wherever you went you were constanly getting moved on or annoyed.

By the time evening came I was feeling decidedly unwell and to go with my badly swollen feet the diarrea which had never completely disappeared was back with a vengeance. Luckily Rory let me sleep in his hamock that night as he could see I was suffering. He had another space as he had tied up an extra hamock the night before. Jimmy found a space for his hammock and I turned in for an early night. By the next morning I felt absolutely terrible and there was no way I could spend another night in a hammock on the bottom deck where I was constantly getting moved so I enquired about taking a cabin for the rest of the journey with the help of a guy named David who we met on the boat and who spoke very good Portuguese.

I paid the extra for a cabin and was glad to finally lie down flat. It was also an extra bit of security for our bags as you have to watch your stuff like a hawk on these boats, especially with all the people getting on and off. The cabin turned out to be right next door to the muslim brothers' cabin and it wasn't long before they were all poking their heads around the door and aksing how I was. One of them even came in and said some prayers for me. This was the start of my two days in solitary confinement and was pretty strange. I didn't really want to go outside at all but despite this the time seemed to pass pretty quickly. I would see jimmy and Rory pretty regularly as they came in to get things from their bags and I also had regular visits from one of the older female members of the crew. 3 times a day she would rap on the door (tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap with a key which was most annoying) mostly when I was on the toilet. Altough she knew I was sick she seemed very concerned that I wasn't eating anything. Try as I might to explain that I was sick and didn't want to eat still she persisted. Aww bless.

We deduced that the symptoms I'd been suffering may have been due to the doxycycline malaria tablets I'd been taking so I decided to stop taking them. The swelling has now gone down although my feet turned a bit purple. Of course now this means I'm not taking anything to protect me against malaria but I don't think the area we're in right now is too risky.

So this was my boat trip along the Amazon. Not the most pleasent experience I've had but memorable for it's own reasons. I don't think I'll be doing it again though...........

A boat along the Amazon remains copyright of the author Moonmonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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We soon left the paved road right near the border crossing and turned onto the road to Icabaru. The going was extremely bumpy and could be described as a bit of an off road excursion. The dirt on the road varied between red dirt, yellowish white dirt and plain old dirt coloured dirt. After a few miles we left the main track and headed up an even rougher track towards one of the many diamond mines in the area. Like the gold mines it's very tough to earn a living in these places. After a series of steep twists and turns we came to a clearing in which there were two small lakes set in a white, dusty landscape. With the strength of the sun you felt a bit snow blind and it was hard to imagine spending any amount of time there let alone working in those conditions. There were a few pipes laid along the ground snaking up from the lakes to some primitive looking contraption. We all climbed up to have a look inside to see if anyone had missed the odd diamond in there.

I'm not sure how the process works but suffice to say it's long and complicated with limited results for the amount of hard work put into it.

We were soon back on to the main track (after being on some of the smaller tracks it felt like being on the M1). The day mainly consisted of driving along the dirt track and stopping to see the odd bit of interesting scenery. As well as being very rough the road was also incredibly dusty and it wasn't long before we were all covered in the stuff. I'd bought a new cap that morning to try and keep the sun off my head and where the cap had started off white it was soon a horrible reddish brown colour - good choice eh. A bit later we passed by a bush fire and stopped to take a few snaps. These are pretty common in this region and while some are deliberate to clear land some are just down to carelesness.

Below is a picture of Lobo and his daughter Suzie I took while we had stopped for a drink during the day.

By the time the afternoon came we were ready to head for the campamento for a rest and some food. We didn't stop for any lunch so we were all pretty hungry.

We arrived at Campamento Cantarana late in the afternoon to a very warm welcome and after being shown to our rooms we headed down to another little waterfall and a pool just behind the main house to relax for a while before dinner. What an idyllic little place this was. Sabina had come to Venezuela in the 80s with nothing but a rucksack and a dream to get away from life in Germany and had met Alfonso (a Venezuelan) who had started building what is now Campamento Cantanara. She's been there ever since. The camp is at least a 2 hour drive from Santa Elena depending on the season and we were told the road now is better than it has ever been since it has recently been repaired. It must have been pretty bad before. We heard that the government had been showing a bit of interest in the land and were doing a bit of investigation (possibly for uranium) hence the repairs done to the road.

That night we had a fantastic meal and sat chatting whilst the Germans played dominoes. It was soon time for bed as we were all exhausted again so we headed to our rooms for the night. Just before we went to bed the lights all went out so I was left in the toilet with my flashlight and something nasty sounding buzzing around my head which I couldn't quite see. I'll also point out here that the ants in Venezuela are huge (maybe 4 or 5 times the size of the ones at home) and they were crawling all over the toilet and my feet. This must have made me paranoid because when I returned to the room I was checking the floor with my torch all the way. That's when I heard a commotion overhead and caught sight of something yellowish brown going crazy in the rafters. It looked like some kind of giant bug and it didn't seem happy. I was pretty freaked out by it and went to bed wondering what the hell it was. I found out in the morning when I asked the German guys if they'd heard it that there's a humming bird who has a nest right above our room (that's why it sounded more like an insect flapping than a bird) we all had a good laugh about it.

The next day we set off for Abysmo - the sheer cliff that overlooks the Brazilian forest on the border with Venezuela. We had no guide but were told to follow the path although it was probably not too visible after a recent bush fire. Two of the dogs from the camp came with us and we were told not to worry as they would guide us home. The walk should take 45 minutes there and 45 minutes back.

Off we went heading south (Marco had a compass on his watch) and sure enough in no time at all the path disappeared. We just kept heading south and the going wasn't too bad although we were trudging through scorched undergrowth and ash.

We realised on the way that we hadn't brought any water with us so we thought we should get a move on before the sun rose too high. After 45 minutes there was still no sign of the edge and after each flat piece of land and incline there came another drop and the same again. We finally got there after an hour and a half and we were pretty relieved that we could turn round and come back without having to admit we couldn't find the place.

After a few pics and a little rest of the legs we turned round and came back. It was getting hot now and we'd been gone quite a while. Coming back we did the same again by following Marco's compass but somehow we ended up taking a different route altogether and had to double back a couple of times when we couldn´t go any further forward.

We eventually returned about 3 and a half hours later and the people at camp had started to get worried. Of course the dogs didn't guide us home they just followed us until we picked up the path again right near the camp. Still we were all fine and it had been a good little adventure and the only damage was a dry throat, some filthy clothes and black, sooty legs.

After a quick dip in the pool and a shower we had breakfast (more like brunch by the time we had it) and set off back to Santa Elena.

The next morning we parted company with Lobo, Rosa, Suzie, Rolfe and Marco who were going back to Puerto Ordaz. I think we'll miss them as they had been good company and good fun and we'd spent quite a few days with them by now.

Tomorrow we will be leaving Venezuela for Brazil and the 3 or 4 days we had planned to stay here turned into 2 weeks. I guess that's what happens when you go travelling.

If I come back here (which I think I will one day) I'll be sure to look up Lobo and hopefully get to see the things we missed this time round. Brazil here we come..........

The road to Icabaru remains copyright of the author Moonmonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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When we arrived there were some more people who had just turned up. We met 2 Kiwi girls and 2 German guys. Later on another 2 German guys arrived too - all of a sudden it was very busy at Lobo's place. It was nice to meet some more new faces so we sat on the veranda and chatted for a while in the evening. Lobo didn't have enough room for everyone so the 2 girls went to stay with one of his friends and one German guys slept in the hammock on the veranda while the other slept downstairs on the couch. The guy who used the hammock regretted not being a bit more thorough with the mozzie spray when he woke up - he'd been eaten alive during the night.

Whilst chatting to the others that evening we were told they were heading for a tour of the Gran Sabana which would involve heading south towards Santa Elena de Uairen. Santa Elena was our next port of call en route to Brazil so we decided to join the group and see some more of Venezuela on the way. We would get up the next morning, load Lobo's Land Cruiser and trailer and head off. There was me, Jimmy, Rolfe and Marco (two of the German guys), Rachel and Melanie (the two Kiwi girls), Lobo, his wife Rosa and young daughter Suzie. Lobo would be our guide and driver for the next few days.

Off we went the next morning. I still wasn't feeling right but was in good spirits and looking forward to the trip. One advantage of doing the journey this way was that the bus we would have caught travels during the night and takes about 9 hours. There are also 2 military checkpoints on the way and buses always get stopped and searched. This means being woken up in the middle of the night and having to unpack your luggage at the roadside. Quite time consuming when there's a bus full of people.

First of all Lobo took us to one of the many gold mines in the region. Gold mining here is very hard work and yields very little gold. Alot of the miners use the small amounts of gold they find to buy food. The process entails mining quartz which is then ground down and mixed with mercury to try and extract the gold. We watched some young men working at one of the machines in the baking heat. Safety is obviously not a big concern to these guys - we saw one of them having his lunch with a can of beer.

After this we went to another mine where the quartz is extracted. We donned our hard hats and stooped through the low entrance into the mine. There wasn't much to see apart from a few bats and the tunnels which had been dug to follow the quartz. It did make you think about how hard life must be for the people who depend on it to make a living.

We also stopped along the way to watch some local people baking manioc bread which is baked using flour ground from the roots of the manioc plant. The manioc root itself is poisonous so part of the process involves leeching all the poison out before use. Apparently it's good for your stomach so we took some and I had a little piece (my first food for a couple of days!). It's very filling as it expands when you drink water and it's a big staple food here.

That afternoon we headed for San Isidro which is a mining town on the road south. It's one of only a couple of towns in the region and apparently it's a bit like the wild west there. Not the safest place to spend and evening but Lobo knew a good place to stay which was safe and clean. We arrived, unloaded the trailer and went to our rooms. I would spend the night in the room again nursing my bad stomach while the others went out for something to eat. Just to illustrate how things are in this town the others went out in the Land Cruiser for the short distance and only got out when they were at the restaurant. Meanwhile the manager sat in his office near the gate of the hotel with a shotgun.

The next morning after a brief stop for breakfast at a little stall in the town we set off towards La Escalera (literally meaning ¨The staircase¨). This is the road that winds up through dense cloud forest towards the plateau of the Gran Sabana. The first stop along the way was Piedra de la Virgin or ¨Virgin Rock¨ which is a huge boulder at the side of the road where there stands a little shrine to the Virgin Mary.

The two Kiwi girls who were with us were very excited by the prospect of travelling along La Escalera as both were keen bird watchers and were in Venezuela on a work related project involving cataloguing the species they came across.

Further along the road we got out of the truck and walked a couple of Kms up the road to try and spot some birds. I think perhaps it was a bit late in the morning as we didn't see many (you have to be there around 7am when it's said you can see 15 or more different species). All the same it was a nice walk and the climate felt so different here - alot cooler and there was even a slight misty rain in the air.

Further along the road we would see the first of many waterfalls (Salto Kawi) in this area. We were told it was perfect for swimming so we would head there and relax for a while.

After that we stopped off at Salto Catedral for a quick look and some snaps.

We stopped for a lunch by a river where some of the guys went for a swim whilst the food was being prepared. Me and Jimmy sat in the shade and relaxed for a while then went to eat. I had my first meal in 4 days and it felt great! We had chicken with rice and fried banana with some other fries which could have been yucca. Here I discovered kumache sauce which is a spicy sauce made with chilli and often one of the ingredients is ants or termites although this particular one didn't contain either.

After lunch we set off for the final leg of the journey towards Santa Elena. We stopped at yet another waterfall called Quebrada de Jaspe, situated about 20 minutes walk from the road. This is by no means the most impressive in terms of size but is famous for the unusual red jasper rock from which it is formed. The pictures don't really illustrate the depth of the colour and the strangeness of the place but hopefully will give you some idea. The red rock is also very slippery as we found out when we walked across to take a closer look and some snaps.

We arrived in Santa Elena later in the afternoon and booked into our rooms at the Posada Michelle which is a cool little place with a small bar and a couple of tables outside under a palm thatched roof. Later that evening we had pizza at a place across the street (more or less the best tasting pizza I can remember eating). I hadn't had any alcohol for a good few days and after being mistakenly ordered a beer later that evening I thought it would be rude not to drink it. So I had a couple more and then off for another early night.

The next morning the Kiwi girls would be leaving to trek Roraima, a huge table mountain to the east which takes 6 days to complete. We thought about joining them but the expenses were mounting up after the last couple of excursions so we decided against it. Rolfe and Marco were staying with Lobo to head west along the road to Ikabaru which runs parallell with the Brazilian border so we thought we may as well head that way with them before coming back to Santa Elena and on to Brazil.

The Gran Sabana remains copyright of the author Moonmonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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We drove the short distance to the boat and all climbed aboard and took a seat (or rather a bench). Roger explaind to us that the water levels were low because of the dry season and this meant we wouldn't be able to access some of the smaller tributaries but there would still be plenty to see. Apparently the water level can be up to 15 metres higher in the wet season.

So off we went towards the wide expanse of the Orinoco. We had to start off very slowly as the water was indeed very shallow but we were soon motoring along at full speed in the blazing sun and looking at the scenery around us.

We had a short tour around the area and hopped in and out of the boat a couple of times. At one point a bolt came off the propellor and we couldn't find it so we would head back for some lunch while Roger repaired the boat. So far so good.

After lunch we had about 40 minutes to kill while Roger worked n the boat so I decided to go for a little siesta. I dozed for about half an hour then went to join the rest of the group.

We headed back out and explored some of the smaller tributaries. We saw quite alot of wildlife, mostly birds but they were all too quick to get a decent picture (try as we might).

Later that afternoon I decided I was feeling a bit dodgy. I hadn't felt right since having a siesta but I put it down to feeling tired. I still enjoyed the rest of the afternoon, the scenery was amazing and it was all very tranquil and so different from anything you would experience at home. Occasionally someone would have to jump out of the boat and push because of the low water levels and sometimes we'd have to help out by pushing against the sand banks with the oar.

We headed back to the camp at around 6pm and I think we'd all had a great day but were feeling a bit tired after being out in the sun all day. It must've been 35 degrees or maybe even hotter at times.

Once we returned to camp I went straight back to the room as I was feeling very dodgy by this time. It looked like that was the end of my Orinoco excursion as I spent that night in a fever with really bad stomach and next day I had to stay in bed while the rest of the group went back out exploring. It had to happen at some point I suppose - maybe better sooner than later eh.

That was the start of 3 days without any food and drinking only water. It has been said I could afford to miss a few meals so maybe it was for the best.

The Orinoco Delta remains copyright of the author Moonmonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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The bus journey was fine and seemed to fly by even though it was 7 hours in total. We caught a cab at the bus terminal and showed the cabbie the address of the posada we were going to. We arrived not knowing quite what to expect as we found this place in the Lonely Planet and it was the first one on the list. Fingers crossed then..........

As it turned out we made a great choice. The place belonged to a German guy named Wolfgang (or Lobo) and it seemed ideal. Lobo had built the place himself and it was his home. He'd been in Venezuela for something like 30 years and had some great stories. Apparently he was a bit of a celebrity after traveling all the way along the Rio Negro in a rubber dinghy from Ciudad Bolivar in Venezuela to Manaus in Brazil on his own. He rents out 4 rooms in his house and it has a little veranda complete with bar and hammock. We sat and had a few beers with him there, glad to be somewhere safe in another new city.

Later that evening Lobo went to pick up another English guy who had just turned up at the bus terminal. He brought back a guy named John who had just returned from a tour of Angel Falls. This is where our plans changed as he told us it had been a bit of a nightmare. It's the dry season in Venezuela and apart from the fact that there's not much to see at Angel falls at this time of year it's really quite difficult to get to because of the water levels. John was black and blue from jumping in and out of the boat in order to push it over sand banks. Hmmmm........perhaps we'd give Angel Falls a miss then. After chatting with John he told us he'd arranged a tour into the Orinoco Delta. This would mean an hour's cab ride to the camp which would work out cheaper between three so we agreed to come. Lobo made a call to his friend Roger (another German) and we paid him for the 2 day trip then went to bed after another cerveza in order to get up nice and early for the 8am cab. It felt good to have met up with some people at last and we were looking forward to our little unplanned adventure.

Puerto Ordaz remains copyright of the author Moonmonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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We arrived at Puerto la Cruz and stepped off the coach into the baking heat. We then left the terminal going in the wrong direction before turning round after about half an hour. A friendly local asked us if we needed a cab and we decided we did. We didn't have a reservation at any hotels so we decided to head for the area where most of the hotels in the Lonely Planet guidebook were. The first hotel on the list didn't seem to exist so we opted for the second one on the list. This is where we decided the Lonely Planet books live up to their nickname of the "Lonely Liar". We got a room at the Hotel Montecarlo (posh name huh?) which turned out to be the biggest s**t hole we've ever stayed in. "Basic and cheap" was the description in the guidebook - I wouldn't let a dog stay there........

Anyway we stayed the night there and found a better hotel the next morning. At least now we have a balcony with a view out over the Carribean and it's a pretty nice hotel for not much more than we paid for the previous one.

We've wandered around Puerto la Cruz for a few hours and checked out all the streets a few blocks from the seafront and more or less seen all there is to see. It's a very lively place and there are loads of street stalls selling food, clothes crafts and all sorts. The sun is amazingly strong here so it really takes it out of you if you stay out in it too long.

We've also discovered that the ATMs here are a bit of a lottery and they're more likely to accept a Maestro card than a Visa - strange.........

It's Saturday tomorrow and we're gonna catch another bus south towards Ciudad Guyana where we hope to take in an excursion to Angel falls. After that we'll be heading towards Manaus and the Amazon.

Puerto la Cruz remains copyright of the author Moonmonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Not knowing quite what to expect we settled in for the 10 hour plane journey (sitting at opposite ends of the plane I might add - not sure how that happened).

The journey itself wan't too bad but the last couple of hours were quite uncomfortable.

We arrived at Caracas airport and headed for the exit after going through immigration and customs without any problems.

As soon as we had cleared these we were accosted by a man in uniform with a really dodgy eye (sorry didn't get a pic) who sheperded us towards one of his friends who had a taxi. Although I was well aware of the multitude of people who wait to pounce on you upon exiting the terminal I guess we were just too tired and spaced out after the flight to resist. The cab journey wasn't too bad and he got us there in good time. We paid slightly over the odds but that was OK as we got to our hotel safe and sound once the dodgy cabbie eventually found it.

Our hotel was in the Altamira district and all in all it wasn't too bad - cheap(ish) clean(ish) and safe(ish).

We were told by the only English speaking member of staff at the hotel that there was an English pub called the "Greenwich" just around the corner so we headed there for a couple of cervesas to help us get to sleep after a very long day. It turned out that no one in the English pub spoke any English but we enjoyed a few Polar beers anyway then went back to the hotel for a sleep.

Next morning we headed out for a look around and bought some breakfast from a local bakery which we sat and ate in the square at the centre of Altamira. We also found a huge shopping centre and wandered around (or rather got lost) and later on had something to eat on the top floor which was full of different restaurants. We decided to stay in Altamira another night before catching a bus for the 6 hour journey to Puerto la Cruz on Thursday.

that night we watched Liverpool v Barcelona on the TV in our room and had an early night so we could get up and catch the bus the next morning. It turns out our room must've been haunted as both mornings the TV switched itself on at 5.30am. It also turned out that the hotel was situated right next to a school where the kids had assembly right outside our window and the principal spoke to them for about an hour on a microphone at very high volume. Oh well at least we didn't sleep in.................

The most daunting thing about the journey so far is that although I have a basic grasp of Spanish I can't understand anyone when they speak back to me! Hopefully this will only get better and we're really looking forward to getting to somewhere where there are some other English speaking travellers. I think this is what you might call a character building experience.

Caracas remains copyright of the author Moonmonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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