Getting on the back of the bus
Via Bariloche
Originally uploaded by ruthdeb. We *finally* bought tickets to Merida Friday afternoon for the bus leaving at 19:30. Twelve hours later we should have arrived in Merida. Inshallah! After the excursion to the bus station, we took our last metro ride back to our hotel to rest for a bit (now Kragen's feeling poorly again - damn bugs!), made a hostel reservation for Sunday morning and packed all our stuff. They told us to be at the bus terminal 1/2 hour before, so 19:00. We figured that if we left by 18:30 we'd be set. Ahhh - right. We completely did not take into account rush hour traffic and the dearth of taxis at that hour. OOOOOPS! We eventually got a taxi and offered the taxista 30,000 Bolivares if he got us to the bus terminal by 19:20. Unbeknownst to us, there was *already* a passenger in the taxi! The windows were tinted so heavily and there was so little light we didn't see her. She descended from the taxi with a smile though and told us now to worry. As soon as I saw her, I felt like such and idiot and a bullish American. "Disculpe señora!" I exclaimed, but she didn't seem put out at all. We mashed our bags and ourselves into the taxi and took off into the traffic jams. My stomach was tight - I was stressing!!! Were we going to make the last bus of the night to Merida? We were going to never leave Caracas? Ahhhhhh! Looking at Kragen calmly sitting there, I decided to do the only thing I could - relax. My stressing wasn't going to help the taxista maneuver through the traffic or help my cortisol levels. So, I took some deep breaths, focused on relaxing my stomach and watched the scene out the window as we weaved through clumps of non-moving cars. We got off the freeway and crawled forward. I could see the bus terminal - but the traffic getting there was almost too much to bear. "Can we just get out here and walk across the four lanes of stop and go traffic?" Our taxista pulled over at 19:15. We gave him 30K Bs and loaded our bags onto our backs. We played a real live game of Frogger and made it successfully to the other side. Whew!
Now - to find our bus. The bus terminal was packed with travelers and their packages, bags, children, etc. There were intimidatingly long lines and I ran off to get to door #1. Our bus was #1 - made sense right? Um, wrong. I came back as Kragen was getting frantic and asked the woman with the bullhorn where to go. She pointed through gate #8. Cool, or Chevre!, as they say here in Venezuela. I looked for our bus - not there. Ahhk! I asked someone when I saw a bus from our same bus company and he pointed to the right. We finally saw another Merida bus with its reverse lights on! We made a run for it. The door was still open! Whew! We asked about storing our luggage and they pointed to the back of the bus, but there's no one there to take our bags. Kragen's stressed out and sick from the diesel fumes so I offered to wait with our bags while he went and sat down in the bus. Ah - that's a little better, but now I had two huge backpacks. The people with the bus company weren't helpful, it was not their job to load luggage. What felt like an hour goes by. Eventually a youngish man showed up and four women all descended on him with our bags. Success! I got two luggage tickets and made my way to the door. I found my seat in the back of the bus and let out a sigh of relief. It was 19:35. Another couple got on around 19:45, but they didn't seem stressed or relieved, just normal.
The bus disembarked at 20:05. We got into Merida the next morning around 9:00.