Before we begin, we'd tell you to avoid setting foot in the Caracas airport without some guidance, and especially without pockets full of dollars. Between the outward and return, we had to spend nearly two days, with constant back and forth between the national and international airports, people who entice you for a yes or a no, hardly anyone behind the counters, and especially the return (fatal error), empty pockets, which almost cost us de rater au dernier moment notre avion Caracas-Paris tant convoité. Autant vous prévenir donc, comme ces épisodes nous ont fait couler pas mal de sueurs froides, pour que cela ne vous arrive pas à vous aussi.
En revanche, tout ce qui se trouve entre ces deux moments d’aéroport (une dizaine de jours environ), a été vraiment magique. Los Roques, un archipel d’environ 50 petites îles, dont la majorité sont quasiment désertes, de l’eau bleu azur, des fonds magnifiques. Los Roques, réputé pour être le « dernier paradis sur Terre ».
Le 27 décembre 2009 nous débarquons d’un petit coucou à l’aéroport (si encore on peut talk about airport) Gran Roque, the largest city (read "small village") of the island. We immediately joined the hullabaloo at anchor. Everybody is fine on board, and everyone is tan and / or beard. We have reloaded the holds of some local products: cheese, wine, duck breast, chocolate, which was particularly appreciated by the crew. On board: Manu, both Olivier and Julien. Adrian, who was absent for reasons of "family Christmas in New York," joined us on January 1.
meantime, we took the opportunity to put us in kite surfing. Our teacher has been another Olivier Ménard, who with his experience of a few outlets in Montpellier, showed us the workings of this water sport. The end of two days of hard training has resulted in an operation "Baywatch" to get off Poncho, taken against his will by the sail. Person injured in the final few feet flayed on corals are to be deplored.
We also immediately took advantage of the fact that many of us (7 and 8), we put our foots type of small dailies on deserted beaches. Two balls gouged out, a few more corals in the feet, and a foot less for some did nothing to halt the overwhelming fervor that reigned around these appointments, and the crew began to prepare themselves mentally from the morning to be in the best conditions at kickoff at 16h (heat makes impracticable before any sport).
Some have the luxury of a little trip of scuba diving (luxury is a big word when you look at a price dive: 40 euros) to explore the beautiful capital of the barrier reef borders the archipelago. On the menu: lobster, barracuda, hundreds of fish that we have forgotten the name, but which were pas moins jolis et colorés.
La soirée du Nouvel An mérite également d’être citée, car elle aura été mémorable. Pourtant, elle n’avait pas si bien commencé : après le feu d’artifice, à minuit et quart, Oliv Ménard, Pierre et Julien s’étaient déjà endormis sur la plage (que c’est dur de tenir tard le soir pour un marin). Le réveil n’a pas été facile, mais nous sommes sûrs qu’ils sont loin de regretter la suite de la soirée, qui restera dans les mémoires. Tous les détails et autres potins ne vous seront pas exposés ici, car on pourrait en faire un post entier. Mais elle s’est place in a Posada (read "house"), specially designed for the occasion in bar New Year The evening continued on the boat at around 6am (sorry for our neighbors wetting), then for some playing (poorly ) football on the beach. Why play football at 8am on the beach without having slept? It started from a good feeling: we were waiting for the flight scheduled Adri at 8, but that is finally arrived much later: we have not held up ...
Finally, we generated 5 days for a short trip in Aves Island, a neighboring archipelago, in which we is very unpleasant encounters with a horde of hungry mosquitoes, scorpion or a white, which went like a whirlwind visit us while we were grilling lobsters.
Fishing has been pretty good: coral fish, lobsters, and especially, especially: periwinkles, full of Omega 3, which is very good for health (read "Winkle Magazine"). Spear fishing eventually turn into collecting winkles, then, by dint of picking a discipline was born: the hunt for periwinkles. Yep, the hunt for snails, it's not for girls. You should know feel good corner and it is not given everyone. The biggest we've driven (and picked) were the size of whelks, which for connoisseurs, is not nothing. Finally: indigestion periwinkles for everyone.
A big thanks to the crew: Manuel, Oliver M, Oliver J, and Adri Jul, having us all three. We wish good luck for the rest of your adventures, for which we are under no worries. The three sailors
budding Stone, Ponch, and Alex.
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