After a bigger fiasco than the day the bearded woman in the Chorley circus was revealed to be not other than Radio 1 DJ Dave Lee Travis in drag, I ended having to visit Venezuela for 4 days on my way home. Tales abound before my arrival of pickpocketing, muggings at knife point and general violence towards gringos (and that is just by the old ladies.... where's that snare drum gone?...) in Venezuela, and Caracas in particular. I hence decided to try and get out of the city ASAP. After trying to avoid going into town at all via a series of underground tunnels and a rudimentary flying machine I obtained from the Wright brothers museum, I had to bite the bullet and go to the bus staion in town. 3 buses, 2 trains and several hot do's later I arrived at a random beach for 2 days, and here I hid in dark corners until I had to repeat the same journey (with an equal amount of hot do's) back again. I managed to arrive at the airport with all my posseions, limbs, digits and eyebrows intact. There are no pictures at all of Venezuela in my archives as I was generally to scared to take any. Literally every local I talked to told me to be careful and related a horry story about a French / Italain / German who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. These place and times seeming to be about 20 hours of the day and covering 83% of the country. Don't all book your holidays at once here though. So after a shmabolic affair at the airport it was on my way back to Europa to test out my now fluent Spanish in the home of Spanish itself..... yes.... Spain! Si x