Scarlet Macaws.
According to Forshaw's "Parrots of the World" there are forty
eight parrots in Venezuela, including six macaws. It seemed about time to visit
the place. As usual it's hard to discover much about the whereabouts of any of
them, although I did discover from the internet that there were Blue and Gold
Macaws in the Orinoco delta.
We had intended this to be a tour for us poor people this year, however we were lured into a couple of rather expensive side trips which made a hole in the budget.
In the sixties Venezuela boomed due to it's vast oil
and mineral reserves. It was the third largest producer of oil in the world,
the world's largest consumer was just across the way. Grandiose buildings were
constructed and a vast new highway system laid out. However things have now
deteriorated, much more in fact than I expected. The cities are neglected, the
roads are potholed. We saw malnutrition, poverty and unemployment. An
embittered population, the cup of first world consumerism dashed from their
lips, blames government incompetance and corruption. There are areas in every
Venezuelan city that are unsafe to visit. We took normal precautions (looking
poor and scruffy and keeping clear of the dodgy areas,) nothing untoward
happened to us. As elsewhere in South America, we also met lots of friendly
people.
There are six macaws inhabiting Venezuela, Aras:-
macao, ararauna, chloroptera, manilata, noblis and severa. According to some
authorities, ara militaris is also present. There are four major habitats, the
high Andes, the Central
Plains (known as Los Llanos), the Orinoco
river delta and the rainforests of the Orinoco
and Amazon river basins. As usual we travelled by bus, which kept down
costs, a circular journey of over two thousand kilometers. We met lots of
interesting people and saw a wide variety of scenary. The Lonely Planet
"Venezuela" book was the bible. If you intend to visit, this account
should be read in conjunction with it.
Our journey took in the towns of Caracas, Maracay, Merida, Mantecal, San Fernando de Apure, Puerto Ayacucho, Ciudad Bolivar, Tucupita, Puerto la Cruz, Altagracia de Orituco,
Colonia Tovar and Caracas.
The next day we wandered around central Caracas. There
seemed to be nowhere to eat in our area, the whole area was pretty run down. We
stood in the street eating pastries, (which are excellent in Venezuela.) Most
people were fairly poorly dressed. The shopkeepers seemed highly concerned
about security, all the cash was handled from high security kiosks, little
vouchers for goods purchased were handed out. The cashiers peered out
suspicously at passing gringos. There was an indefinable air of menace. It all
seemed pretty intimidating.
We wandered around several banks to change traveller's
cheques. All had armed guards. Strangely there were no police about, indeed the
only police we saw in Venezuela were at the airport. We were turned away by
most of the banks. Fortunately they were all grouped together and eventually we
found one that would do the business. As usual there was a plethora of
paperwork, also they wanted the reciepts which we had to return to the hotel
for. (There is also a Cambio at the airport.) There are cambios in Caracas
however most were only interested in US$ cash.
The streets were filled with the rusting hulks of
ancient American cars, Detroit iron rules OK! The pollution from the monstrous
V8 engines was incredible. Even when the car dies, the primitive and
indestructable mechanics are transplanted to the local buses, there is ample
power for quite a large bus. All this is possible because petrol costs
£0.08/liter.
The bus station in Caracas has been recently moved. We
received wildly conflicting advice as to its' present whereabouts. It was all
pretty baffling.
We were approached in the street by a Rastafarian. I
entertain the most lively suspicion of any unsolicited approaches in South
America, enhanced in this case by his wild appearance. He was actually an OK
bloke, (he was from Trinidad and hence spoke good English). We had to make our
way to Merida, he was able to show us where we could catch a taxi to Maracay,
part way there. Alarmingly he insisted on helping us with the luggage. I gave
him a small tip which astounded him. In return he gave me joss sticks, running down
the street after our taxi, which he assured me had innumerable uses. (I still
have them!)
Most of the taxis in Venezuela are ancient American
limos. As a Brit they all look alike to me, the exact make and properties of
them escapes me. All the taxis for Maracay congregate at the NE corner of the
Mercado de la Hoyada. It was a three hour journey to Maracay relaxing in the
worn but still luxurious leather armchair-like seats. The big V8 made light
work of the spectacular mountain motorway with several long pollution filled
tunnels. The soft suspension soaked up the potholes although the cornering was
alarming. It cost fifteen pounds. Things were looking up!
Disappointingly the bus to the Andean town of Merida
only travels by night, so we missed the spectacular views. It's a twelve hour
journey in a very modern three axle bus with reclining (sleeper) seats. All
journeys in Venezuela are accompanied by excruciating (usually Colombian)
music, this was no exception, fortunately they turned it off at nine o' clock.
There is little public transport in the more
remote parts of Los Llanos and no tour operators so far as I could discover. I
had been in contact with one "Guamanchi Expeditions" by Email and was
able to fix up transport with them to a remote area of Los Llanos where
apparently macaws were to be seen. We had to make our way to the Andean town of
Merida where they are based. They had no experience of specialist macaw
spotting trips but were quite willing to do some research at our expense! The
cost for three days was US$600 for the two of us. However it would have been
only a little more for six persons. They base their tours in the Llanos from
Finca Yopito, close to the town of Mantecal in the State of Apuré in the heart of
the Llanos.
Merida is world famous for the the "Teleferica" (cable car) which is the longest and highest in the world, rising to almost 16,000ft. At the time of our visit it was working. This is a quite literally breathtaking experience, spoilt only by the horrible
music. There was snow, thick cloud and a statue of the Virgin Mary at the top.
The views on the way up are amazing. Not to be missed. There's not much of
interest in Merida itself, this is the place to come to arrange excursions to
the surrounding area. The surrounding mountain scenery
(picture, 16K) is stunning. It can get pretty cold by night at Merida.
We arrived in Caracas at night by way of the expensive
airport taxi. Caracas is a dodgy place by night, you don't want to be wandering
about on foot. It was raining heavily. The hills surrounding the city were
filled with the glow of thousands of tiny oil lamps shining through uncurtained
windows. It all looked quite beautiful. We eventually found our way to our
accommodation selected almost at random from the book. It was pretty grim, the
management was pretty glum.
The town of Maracay is a reasonably pleasant place to
stay. There is a market, however like all the markets we saw in Venezuela it
was distinctly non-traditional. It looked like half the population of the town
had become traders through economic circumstance and didn't really belong, or
want to be there. I failed to talk my way into the air museum which is only
open on weekends. We stayed at a pleasant hotel, the "Caroni".
Music of the Llanos, "El
Gavilan".
(Streamed audio. "Realplayer" neccesary.)
Download free "Realplayer" here!
The road crossing the Andes from Merida to Barinas at the Western edge of Los Llanos is one of the most spectacular routes imaginable, forced over the mountain pass regardless of expense. There were many tantalising glimpses of tiny green parrots in the trees. The road rises to ten thousand feet, up the lush cloud veiled Chama river valley and descends to the Llanos town of Barinas. There was a wide range of altitude and climate dependant forest systems. At the top, (picture, 26K) a cold and bare, windswept, boglike terrain with rushing streams, lakes and waterfalls. The ground was covered in multicoloured "Alpine" flowers and strange spikey rosettes. The inhabitants of this area seemed to live in dire poverty growing a wide range of fruit and vegetables, tropical and temperate. Although there were numerous "Touristy" lodges and hotels obviously they were only for the wealthy.
On the way we called in at a centre supposedly reintroducing the Andean Condor, extinct in Venezuela. There were three, one in a large cage and two wandering about outside the cage. They were all perfectly tame and clearly had no intention of flying off anywhere. Apparently they had been obtained from a zoo in Sao Paulo where they breed them. They are an enormous bird, it would be a sad thing if they were no more. I later heard that one of them that did fly off was shot. Still, they had a nice video and a bit of an information office.
The vast plain of the Llanos stretches from the Andes to the Orinoco river. It is completely flat. In the wet season it is one vast inland lake,(picture, 22K) covered with aquatic plantlife. In the wet season frequent gigantic thunderstorms track across this endless watery paradise deluging warm rain. In the dry season it is an arid inferno. The many tree-bordered rivers are the only other natural feature. Ruler straight elevated highways access the area, which is divided up into enormous "Hatos" (Sp- ranches). Smaller farms are called "Fincas" and "Fundos". It seemed to me from previous experience that here we might find Aras Chloroptera or Ararauna.
It was September, the end of the wet season, when the floodwaters were receding and the land was green and verdant when we arrived in the Llanos. There is abundant bird life on the Llanos and a major tourist industry. For the wealthy, there are several eco-tourist Hatos where one can reside in comfort. However for us poor people there are lesser known and cheaper alternatives.
The Llanos may be flat, however the vegetation is varied and interesting. In the wet season the bird life is dispersed, however, there was still plenty to be seen in this watery landscape of spectacular sunsets (picture, 18K) and towering tropical electrical storms.
Finca Juan Yopito is near the town of Mantecal, not far North of the Colombian border. Ranching is the business, carried on much as it must have been in the "Wild West" of North America, cowboys, horses, corrals and so on. Here there is primitive accommodation (picture, 27K) consisting of a bare, bat infested hut with hammocks. Simple local fare is taken under a thatched sun shade in the farm yard with the family and farm hands. It was all very cosy and friendly. Señor Yopito was startled as to how much we had been charged for our tour. He revealed that he was paid US$10 per person, per day for "full board" in his huts. By local standards the Yopitos were well off, due in part no doubt to their tourist activities and landed status. As we discovered in the next few days most people in the area lived in very poor conditions, crowded into adobe (mud) shacks (picture, 38K) with a subsistence economy. Yuca seemed to be the staple diet, the root of a shrub that takes six months to grow, which when boiled and mashed, looks like potato and tastes of precisely nothing. As on other savannah I had visited in South America, the soil seemed to be very poor. No-one was actually starving but it seemed quite a precarous living.
Surprisingly, the local macaws were scarlets, (picture, 34K) popular as pets, nearly every household has at least one, there were two at the Yopito, free-flying but coming to hand when offered food. They survived on a diet of spaghetti plus whatever they could scrounge about the place. There were apparently macaws for sale in Mantecal for US$30 but these had been taken from a local nesthole. Locally they are known as "guacamaya bandera", (Sp-national flag macaw.) This refers to the red, yellow and blue colours which correspond to those of the flag of Venezuela. Previously I had only seen the scarlet macaw in the rainforest, where they nest in holes in trees two hundred feet high. The local trees by the rivers are barely a quarter of this height
The next day boat trip had been laid on for us at the nearby Campamenta Barriga on the Guaritico river in a twenty foot motorised canoe. (picture, 24K) It's a bewitchingly beautiful place. To reach the river it was necessary make our way through narrow water channels. (picture, 28K) We pushed our way between the dense mass of reeds and water hyacinths. (picture, 30K) The water was covered with the blossoms of exotic aquatic plants. The balmy air was heavy with the scents of unknown flowers. Crystal waters rushed and swirled through the reeds. The murmer of insects and alien birdsong filled the air, strangely muffled by the thick vegetation. Gaudy dragonflies hovered about us, jewelled beetles combed the waterways. Half an hours journey through these narrow waterways brought us to the tea coloured Guaratico river. We burst through the bankside reeds and proceeded at a brisk rate upstream. The riverside "selva" (Sp:- forest) was filled with a wide range of birdlife, kingfishers, herons, raptors and numerous others. Several large crocodiles (picture, 20K) slipped into the river as we passed.
We had only travelled a short distance when we heard a familiar racket. Alerted by the motor, a flock of macaws, sprang into the air from a bankside tree, their plumage brilliant in the sun. They circled overhead and then made off.
We landed a hundred yards further on to see if they had nestholes, scrambling back through the selva. There were none but we found the stumps of several large trees that had been recently felled. We carried on up the river, seeing no more macaws but river dolphins and several large crocodiles. The motor broke down on the return journey, we had to pole the boat through the reeds, a shattering experience in the heat and humidity.
The next day we set off to see the nest hole tree. This was located the nearby Finca Mangita. Our guide, Señor Yopito (junior) soon abandoned us for the charms of the farmer's daughter. Our new guide was even more junior, at least seven years old. However he boldly and competently paddled us across the river, we were off to see the nesthole tree. Once again after a short walk along the river bank we surprised a group of guacamaya. Again they sprang into the air with raucous shrieks. Another half mile and more, this time seven, at their nesting tree. The tree was not high, no more than fifty feet and there were three holes, the lowest at about fifteen feet. The tree was in pretty bad shape, quite rotten. Our infant guide said this was an "Aceite" (Sp:- oil) tree. Some one had taken the chain saw to it, lopping a substantial lower bough preparatory to felling it. However because it proved to be hollow it was spared. (The place was also swarming with the unusual and primitive hoatzin, for anyone interested.)
I afterwards discovered that the Aceite tree is much sought after for fencing as the oily timber is resistant to termites and rot. There are hundreds of miles of fencing in the Llanos. However it was noticable that recent fencing had been carried out using steel and concrete posts.
We spent two more days in the area and followed every rumour seeing more macaws but not a single more aceite tree let alone nest holes.
It seems there for that in this area at least, the aceite tree is almost extinct, perhaps soon to be followed by the scarlet macaws it is host to. The only tree we found was pretty decrepite and ready for final collapse. Even this was regularly raided by local children, who knew the exact time that chicks could be obtained.
As everywhere in the South American savanna, fires are set to improve the grassland to the detriment of trees. Cattle also destroy the woodlands by eating seedling trees.
I have no information as to the position on the land of the nearby eco-tourist Hatos. Hopefully they take more care of the local fauna as they depend on it for their living.
Guamanchi Expeditions, Calle 24 No8-39 VT.1556, Merida, Venezuela. Tel/fax (074) 52 20 80 Website:- http://www.guamanchi.comSuitable travel guide (to read in conjunction with this account):- Lonely Planet "Venezuela".
Lyrics to background music.
EL GAVILÁN (The Sparrowhawk)
The gist of this is that, just as the hawk pursues its prey, the singer is hunting the hawk. He asks the canoero (ferryman) to row him across the Arauca so that he can carry on pursuing the bird. In the last verse he says that on a bank of the Apure there's a hawk whose song seems to say: "The girls of Camaguan".
