Friday we headed off to Puerto La Cruz, with the plans of going to the pueblo of Santa Fe the following morning. We called it a night pretty early, I bought some Christmas gifts for certain people, and I heard what I thought were gunshots. Right outside of Marshall's hotel, where I usually stay, we saw this
Apparently someone went after a person with a bottle. Knowing the amount of blood, and the lack of health care here, I'm sure someone ended up dead.
The next morning we found the bus to Santa Fe. Took about an hour to get there, and we got our hotel for 80Bs a night. Apparently last year at this time, it was 50Bs a night. He showed me around the pueblo, all the little hotels on the beach, there was even one run by a couple of young Frenchmen, who have a Cane Corso. I heavily researched this breed when I was looking to get a dog after I graduated. I guess I had a change in plans, but I loved seeing one in person, and never thought I would see one here.
Marshall and I met another young Frenchman by the name of Cyril. He was pretty cool, and I'm starting to open up to the French.
We ran into several French people on the beach, the only tourists there. I have yet to meet an American here. Even if I did, I wouldn't be as impressed as I was by the vigilance and pride of this guy.
They talked me into going into the disco that night, the first place I've been to without a single attractive Venezuelan woman. This wasn't a good idea due to my sickness, and in the morning I felt sick as ever, and this was the defining moment into me wanting to go back to the states.
Now the problem is...how do I go about doing it? I have hardly any money, and a non refundable ticket to Quito which I wish I could use.
Below are a couple of pictures that I haven't used yet.
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