Liz declared at 6am that she was fit enough to travel. As buses started at 3am to the border it was safe to say that we needed to set off ASAP. We both were keen to get to Columbia and to stay would mean having to use the ATM's. This is the first country where we havn't used them. Chavez sets the official rate at half the 'real' market rate making it a form of daylight robbery.

We didn't reserve a bus so we took what was going - a local bus. It was a 5 hour journey back along most of the route we were on yesterday. It was a good time to sort through the photos on the camera but far too bumpy to catch up with these bloggs.

The bus took us to San Christobal the largest city close to the border. From here the plan was to find a por puesto to take us to the border as fast as possible before nightfall. The guide book says that few tourists come here and when they do they are just passing through into Columbia. This was useful as a por puesto owner approached us to offer his services.

The por puesto (just an old American car) was jamed full of friendly Columbians. They were a god-send as we had to find the immigration office in Venezuela before crossing the border.

Venezuelans and Columbians don't need to have passports stamped. In a country that has road blocks everywhere checking things it is strange to see that you can simply drive into Columbia without even stopping. Venezuela was making it hard to leave, the immigration office was tucked away in a hard to find back street nowhere near the border. Even stranger was having to go to another 'office' across the road to get some stamps to say that you have payed the departure tax. I say office in fact it was a cubicle open to the street not much wider than the person sitting in it. The guy seemed to be used to bemused foreigners as he shook our hands to congratulate us on negociating probally the wierdest border crossing there is.

With the stamps we hurried back to the empty immigration office to get the all important exit stamp. There was three people behind the desk, but putting the passports and tax stamp on the desk and making myself known didn't seem to stir them. In fact when someone else came in they served them instead. Getting irate that we were keeping the car waiting with everything we own inside I drumed the desk and blocked everyone else getting access. Five minutes was the responce from one of them as she disappeared into a back room. The other two just sat there looking unbelievably bored. After about five minutes an immigration officer appeared and without any pleasantries simply stamped our passports very slowly.

Getting the entry stamp into Columbia couldn't be any more different. The office was right where it should be at the end of the bridge connecting the two countries. It was a bright clean building with very friendly and efficient staff. Hola Columbia I gladly anounced back in the por puesto.

The border city of Cucuta was the destination and as it was now getting dark we decided to stay over night. Despite being a border town, which are normally very edgy, here it looked nice compared with the Venezuelan cities. We were dropped off in the infamous bus station in Cucuta (the worst place in the city). We needed to get to an ATM to get some money so the offer of a taxi was accepted.

The usual ATM problem (where the machine acuses me of cancelling the transaction) presented itself. I was expecting this, and imediately asked the driver for another bank, the driver was hesitant and wanted to know what the problem was. Liz offered to have a go but she had no luck either. The taxi driver and Liz then went into the bank to get some help. Despite the staff being very helpful there did not appear to be an immediant solution so we drove off to find a different ATM.

Finding a different ATM was tricky the taxi driver had to get some help. Eventually a different one was found and we got some cash much to everyones relief.

Being grateful for the help we went with the taxi drivers suggestion of a hotel near the bus terminal so that we can just walk there in the morning. It was very basic with a steel door and tiled floor. Even the bed was a tiled platform with a matress on it. Strangely for somewhere so basic there was a TV, but neither of us were complaining.

We went out quickly back to the bus station to get something to eat. It felt OK however we didn't want to take any chances especially when a persistent beggar would not take no for an answer and decided to follow us for a little while.

Back in the room we watched TV whilst Liz played 'catch the flea' that obviously lived in the matress.