Today I went up to the town of Galipan in the Avila mountain which separates Caracas from the sea. To those that have never been here, El Avila is a spectacular sight, which is probably what attracted the Spaniards to the valley in which Caracas is. This is what it looks like:
To add to the perspective, think about the fact that Caracas is 1,000 meters above sea level (3,000 feet). Well, El Avila at it highest peak is like 2,700 meters or 8,000 feet, these mountains are truly majestic. El Avila has been a National park for a long time, converted to a national park by the transition Government in 1958, after the Perez Jimenez Dictatorship was overthrown.
When it was declared a National Park, only those that lived there could remain there and improve their homes, but new building within the park was barred. There was a little agricultural town called Galipan up there, whose inhabitants grew flowers and were separated from Caracas by the difficult dirt road that connected it to it. Imagine going up some 6,000 feet in less than five miles, it is steep! And it was only dirt, it was very messy, particularly if it rained.
About some twenty years ago, the Government built a road up there and people began going there to visit. A Restaurant opened up, now there are about half a dozen. Many wealthy Venezuelans have purchased homes up there, improved them and use them as vacation homes. Caracas is typically 10 C warmer than Galipan, it gets chilly up there.
Last week my brother invited me to go to Casa Pakea today. Casa Pakea is by far the best Restaurant up in Galipan. It is run by a Basque who reportedly got there after leaving Spain for belonging to a certain separatist organization. The food is wonderful. It is a fixed menu of six dishes for a fairly cheap price of Bs. 48,000 per person, about $19 dollars at the parallel exchange rate. You bring your own wine, which makes it a perfect chance to have a good wine with great food, at a reasonable price.
The views are incredible, you are above the clouds, and the mountains change colors as if by magic. Here are two pictures:
 
To enter the Park, you have to go by a National Guard station, tell them where you are going. Sometime they search your car, but usually you just go straight thru. You have to go up in a four wheel drive vehicle (I guess it is more important on the way down). We went in my sister’s car, a big red thing, Dodge I think it is, that is banged up all over. It is like a four wheel drive van. There are few like that in Venezuela as it was given to her husband as payment for a debt and it was imported from the US. So, it is easily recognizable.
This sister of mine is a reporter/writer and just completed her first book “Excess Baggage” which won an important award for books by first time writers.
I tell you this as background, because when we entered the park, rather than let us thru, the National Guard told my brother who was driving to please park the car on the side. He approached and asked him where we were going and to get out of the car. Then he asked him what was in the trunk. My brother said he did not know, that the car was my sister’s not his. At that point the Guard asked my sister to get out of the car and go see the Guard that was at the desk in the kiosk where you first stop. That Guard asked my brother if she was his wife and was she a writer.
That Guard asked my sister: do you remember me? She said no. Well, it turns out that he had stopped my sister in the same van a few weeks ago and she had no papers for the car (typical!), no identification. She told him she was a writer, was in a rush to get the proofs of her book and they were going to close. He let her go at that time.
He told her that van was recognizable anywhere and said: “Do you have papers for the van today” She said yes, but he did not ask her to produce them. Then he asked “And how is your book”. Incredibly, my sister had just given us copies of the book at her home before we left for lunch, so she said: “It is doing very well, it was published this week”. My brother came to the car, got a copy and she ended up dedicating a copy to the National Guardsman. He asked her for her e-mail to send her his opinion about the book when he finished it!
After our meal, we went by the same kiosk said hi and he called out “I am already reading the part about the lady, very nice book”. So, my sister now has a fan in the Venezuelan National Guard.
It might be a silly story, but it was very nice and fun and we laughed about it all afternoon. By the way, the food was delicious too!!!
By the way, driving home, we were stopped by the Caracas police, the van had no plate in the front, which is illegal…she keeps going like this she will know all cops in Caracas soon. Maybe sell a lot of books?
12:12:02 AM 
|
