Venezuela Gran Sabana and Santa Elena

I rode towards the border town of Santa Elena and my next adventure booked by Gekko Tours – a six day trek to Mt Roraima - subject of the book The Lost World and a unique and ancient part of the world. 

It was a 700km drive through a few small towns with interesting artwork

so I stopped off half way near El Dorado at Posada El Encanto Cuyuni a sprawling property of some 500Ha on a river, owned by a Swiss expat, Bruno. 

Genio had phoned ahead and they were expecting me. There was quite a party going with a group of Chinese nationals by the river cooking up huge amounts of food for their group on this Sunday barbeque. As I set up my tent nearby they brought me a plate of food, then another, then another, and beers, in exchange for stories of my motorcycle and my travels. I happily obliged. They were so friendly and generous to this stranger and then in a moment they were packed up and gone.

The ride to Santa Elena took me through the Gran Sabana, an area that had been mentioned to me during my whole time in Venezuela.

‘Are you going to the Gran Sabana?’

‘I suppose…where is it?’

Well here it is between El Dorado, a crazy mining town that looked like something out of a western film with the addition of piles of rubbish, and Santa Elena, a quirky border town that appears a little touristy on the surface because of the tour companies present to satisfy the high demand for treks to Roraima and Angel Falls; but with an underbelly fitting for Venezuela with a collapsing currency and the world’s cheapest petrol. Of course I had to stop at Las Claritas (KM88) to buy some petrol. I found a two kilometre line of cars and 30 motorbikes clumped around the bowsers. As a tourist on a motorcycle, to my surprise and appreciation, I was ushered to the bowser ahead of everyone and filled up for ten cents!

The Gran Sabana is indeed grand and some of the most picturesque plains I have seen in Venezuela or anywhere really. 

The clumps of tropical grasses blend into expansive green carpets stretching over rolling hills as far as the eye can see, punctuated with the distant tepui flat-top mountains, a row of which stretch southward, culminating in the famous Mt Roraima. The road winds through this country, beckoning glances and photos in all directions, each a postcard. It is such a beautiful day’s ride with a number of craggy gravel roads diverting to the left and right and hand painted signs pointing to various waterfalls, all in the direction of the nearest tepuis. While it was tempting to take one or two, I had to get to Santa Elena and prepare for my 6 day trek to Roraima. I wasn't the only one on this long stretch of road, a couple of cyclists from Argentina have been travelling for two years.

 Eventually I located the Backpackers tours office in Santa Elena after a couple of loops of the centre and was shown to my booked room and was told I could leave my motorcycle inside. I really didn’t like the room, it was sparse and smelly, and even at $5 a night it didn’t appeal. For an extra couple of dollars I was directed to Posada Los Pinos, just out of town where I was to park my bike while on the trek. The rooms here were comfortable and nicely appointed, with local artwork and importantly hot water in the shower! I immediately liked it and the vehicles and tents that I was to use on the trek were all stored and based here. It was quiet and perfect for me, the only guest. Later another young Venezuelan couple arrived, Arturo and Liliana, who were booked onto the same trek.

 After a comfortable night’s sleep I prepared my pack for the trek and the bike for a week’s storage. Another couple, Raymond and Carmen, arrived during the day and we went together to the office in town for our briefing on the trek. Here I met Antoine and Nausicaa from French Guiana, three amigos from Sao Paulo, Brazil and Michael from New York. This was to be our team for the trek. Roman was our guide, a Pemón man who spoke Spanish and English, and he went through the briefing of what was required and what to expect. In retrospect it wasn’t quite enough information on some things but a trip like this needs a bit of nous and experience, a first-timer could get caught out underprepared. Michael was the first-timer in the group.