Homeward bound

On the move

Santa Fe, Venezuela - A fishing town six hours east of Caracas on the Carribean coast. Boats head back to shore midmorning each day, riding low (nearly at water level) laden with loads of sardines (to be shipped in refrigerated trucks to the other side of the country and canned), groupers, dorados, barracuda. This picture is in front of my posada - my office for the past week . . .

Prior to beaching it, I´ve spent some time in Los Lllanos, a region draining the eastside of the Andes. Think Texas meeting Florida. This is a picture of me with a pirhana that I caught while there. Moments after taking this shot, the pirhana bit a chunk of flesh out of my finger. I got the last laugh, however, frying it up for dinner.

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Chavez is a lover, not a hater. El Libertador. Notwithstanding the dozens of submarines and fighter jets recently purchased.

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Walking in the North Andes. Didn´t see a soul this entire day, except for a riderless horse walking the opposite direction down the trail.