Crossing The Border
28 August 2005 (Sunday) – San Cristobal, Venezuela to Cienaga, Colombia
I called Juan a few times in the morning. He had switched off his cellular phone. Hmmm… I weighed my options. Frankly, I feared I did not have enough bolivares to really last another day, including expenses for crossing the border. It was always better to have a little extra, than to be caught with not enough money just when you were leaving the country. Also, I really wanted to get out of San Cristobal as I could not stand this city. I figured there was no use of me staying here beyond my check-out time of the hotel, especially since I was not even sure if Juan was in the city. After all, he had said he MIGHT be back on Sunday and had suggested that I give him a call on Sunday morning to confirm. Well, I did. His cellular phone was switched off.
I decided to leave Venezuela. I preferred to leave plenty of daylight time for me to get myself safely across the border.
At the bus terminal, there were several taxis leaving for Cucutá, the border town of Colombia directly. I made inquiries there and when I asked the driver if he would stop for me to get my exit and entry stamps, he decided not to take me. Puzzled, I asked around and finally decided to take a colectivo to San Antonio which is the border town of Venezuela and figure something out from there. I asked the driver to show me where the immigration office was.
About 2 hours later, we arrived in San Antonio. I bought my departure tax stamps and got my exit stamp at the office. Strange. This immigration office was right in the middle of town. It was not at the border, or anything. I had to walk a few blocks further to catch a bus that would take me to the Colombian border.
Usually, in other border crossings that I had experienced in South America, the bus or taxi would stop at the customs and everyone needs to get out to get his or her identity card or passport registered or stamped. Yet, here, apparently, the Venezuelans need not clear customs at all! The bus just zipped right through the border without stopping!
As I was paying the fare-collector, I learnt that I was already in Colombia. Shit shit! Unlike the Venezuelans, I needed my entry stamp! He hastily yelled at the driver to stop the bus and I alighted and walked back towards the bridge which marked the border. Phew, thank goodness, I was alert enough to ask these questions. Otherwise, I could be w-a-y into Colombia before discovering this mistake!
After getting my entry stamp, I returned to the main road and promptly found another bus to hop onto and this finally brought me to Cucutá bus terminal, several kilometres away. The guidebook had written that Cucutá was not a nice place, a very dodgy frontier town. The bus terminal had tricksters and con-men of every creations, and we were never to leave our bags unwatched. Frankly, I was a little nervous being out here by myself.
But at a money exchange, I got to chatting with the people who worked there and as I was Chinese, they got really curious and friendily invited me in. Then, they helped me with my bus-ticket to Cienaga and even asked me to teach them some Chinese words. Later, I even left my bags in there while I went to find lunch. I ended up watching a kungfu movie outside while they took care of my things. They all seemed very friendly.
Finally, at 5:30pm, I got onto a nightbus to Cienaga. Many people had all sorts of colourful warnings for me whenever they heard that I would be going to Colombia. One of the warnings was never to travel on a weekend, and never to travel on a nightbus due to increased guerilla activities in hijacking the buses. Gee… here I was travelling on a NIGHTBUS on a WEEKEND.
Tags: 06) Colombia Connection
swesn
August 31st, 2005 at 4:59 am
Trish Trish Trish….Gosh! I get v worried hearing you doing the things that pple asked you not to!! ALAMAK! I feel as though I’m watching a movie when I reading this…so unreal!