If you're hitching in the Caribbean there's no choice - so we took our chances and went down south aboard Claudia II, a Finish 62-footer made of ferrocement. She took us to Puerto La Cruz, in Venezuela, and we stayed there working aboard a dry docked yacht and enjoyed the particularities of that land.
Paul could climb a coconut tree like a monkey. We developed a special technique where he would throw the nuts down and I'd try to catch them, reduce the impact and save them from cracking. Glad I'm still alive.
I had a haircut at the best hairdresser ever. His salon was all covered in his International diplomas and its decoration was a chair, no wash basin. People would stand on a cue while he did his job in 10 minutes, gesturing as if he painted a Picasso. Amazing.
Venezuelan women are a mix of the South American charm and the Spanish elegance. Unfortunately, the men are not like that. Most of the population are descendants from South American natives. Puerto's main square's resident is a brown-throated sloth.
That place has the greatest street falafels in the whole world, too.
By the way - at that time, it also had loads of inquisitive military soldiers, who would ask you now and then for your identification on the streets. It felt like something strange was happening, but we didn't know exactly what.
So we thought: what the hell, let's go down under to Brazil.
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