The year began in northern Peru. We spent a lot of money on our New Year’s Eve celebrations with friends from Switzerland (far too much, but it was fun nonetheless). We visited the world’s third-highest waterfalls and hiked alone to ancient sarcophagi. Then came the accident with the tuk-tuk and a few nights spent in a garage to fix the door. We weren’t able to replace the window until we reached Colombia. In the meantime, the window Michi had fashioned out of a road sign held up remarkably well. Before crossing the border, we enjoyed a few more excellent Peruvian meals: Ceviche, Chicharrones, Causa… mmm!

Ecuador

Finally, we were in a small country where we didn’t have to cover thousands of kilometres, and it was incredibly diverse. It was definitely one of our highlights. We went mountain trekking in the snow, dived in the Pacific, sweated in the jungle, and saw hundreds of hummingbirds, several snakes, and Andean bears. The hospitality was wonderful, and somehow most things went according to plan.

A true wildlife highlight was the Galápagos. Three weeks of sun and sand – finally escaping the rain! We snorkelled every day, ate fresh fish at the market, and watched the animals – anywhere, anytime. And of course, the diving: we saw hammerhead sharks, eagle rays, and schools of fish so dense you could only see through them when a sea lion or shark broke through the barrier.

Back to Colombia!

Back in Colombia, we had to bridge two exhausting weeks until the ship set sail. Everything went smoothly, but the constant waiting and the sparse information were annoying. However, thanks to our container buddy, we were able to enjoy a few nights of luxury at the Hilton in Cartagena and Panama. We even stayed at the Waldorf Astoria for one night. Nevertheless, we were glad when the car arrived safely and we were sleeping in our own bed again.

Costa Rica

Costa Rica – the green paradise. The people there were very used to tourists, the prices are very high, and nothing is free – except for parking on the beach. We took full advantage of that. We spent ten days alone in San Josecito on the Osa Peninsula. Every day we hiked a little, cooked, and read. Eventually, however, everything became so damp and clammy that we had to head back to the mainland.

We saw tapirs, monkeys, snakes, frogs, macaws, raccoons, and coatis. We released baby turtles and saw large ones swimming in the water. Whales and dolphins. There were so many animals.

Family time was lovely too. We spent a month with Michael’s sister. His other sister came to visit as well, and we had a great time with her, her niece, and her family. We ate delicious food, did a lot of laundry, and constantly fought the mould.

Finally, more visitors arrived from Switzerland. Cora’s friends came to visit and brought us many parts for the car – and chocolate, of course! We also made new friends and spent a wonderful week with them. A fitting end to Costa Rica.

Nicaragua

There were no difficulties or complications in Nicaragua. Everything went wonderfully at customs. It became hot again and there was less rain. We visited several cities: Granada and León. We went out at night and felt old among the backpackers.

We also went diving in a volcanic crater, which was very impressive. Unfortunately, we couldn’t visit another crater because it had erupted.

Michael was worried he’d have to spend his birthday with only Cora for company, but then fate decided otherwise. At the last moment, we got the contact details for Orlando and Nubia (a Swiss man and a Nicaraguan woman), who gave us a warm welcome. There were three days of rum and coke, some beer, and delicious food. We also visited a coffee farm. Then it time to go to the border.

Honduras

A small colonial village, good pupusas (stuffed tortillas), plenty of peace and quiet, and a hike up the Santa Ana volcano; only the weather didn’t cooperate. Added to that was a great off-road track through the mountains and a quick dip in the Pacific.

El Salvador was full of kind people, and you felt safe everywhere. However, we didn’t want to celebrate Christmas alone. Since we didn’t encounter any other travellers, we decided to push on to Guatemala.

Guatemala

Guatemala gave us a warm welcome. We were invited to Christmas Eve by the owners of the campsite. There were a few glasses of rum and delicious food. We spent the final days of the year in a city once again. We are wandering the alleys of Antigua and celebrating with other overlanders at the campsite.

Here’s to many more adventures in 2026!

The Bolívar region lies in the south of Venezuela. The only road connecting the country with its neighbour Brazil is the Troncal 10. However, there is no road to Guyana in the east.

Blind paying

With nearly one million inhabitants, Ciudad Guayana is a big, chaotic city and an important economic driver for the region. This is our last chance to fill up with diesel at a regular petrol station at the standard price, but we did have to plead a little for it. Although I can pay by card at the till, the process makes me feel a bit like a criminal.

The cashier is in a small, air-conditioned room. There is a large window that I cannot see through, a microphone, and a small opening. A female voice tells me the amount to pay. I correct her because we filled up with less diesel than expected. Then I have to give her my card and tell her my PIN loudly. She puts it in for me. I have no idea what is happening; at least my banking app tells me that the amount is correct. She gives me my card back and a number on a piece of paper. I have to give that to the attendant outside, and then we can leave.

Our big tank is completely topped up, and we’ll need all the petrol because there are no petrol stations for the next 700 kilometres until Brazil. We want to go all the way and come back again. There are plenty of other places to fill up along the road. Everyone sells gasoline and diesel illegally in plastic bottles: Five litres for one. Weird, because that would be very cheap. Just so you know, 1 means 0.1 grams of gold, or 1 punto as they call it here.

Looking for the magic of Cuyuní

We spend a few days with Bruno, standing right by the river and watching the hustle and bustle on the water and on land. We are actually standing in the middle of El Dorado, literally, because that is the name of the village next door. But the beauty and magic have long since faded.

Nevertheless, El Dorado and Bruno’s location are worth their weight in gold. The Cuyuní River flows into Guyana. Just one hour downstream, you are in the neighbouring country. Those who live by the river control the smuggling routes. What’s more, the land is made of gold. Test mining has revealed high quantities of the precious metal. So far, he has only extracted gold from the river, but from this winter onwards, the surrounding forest will also be targeted. Bruno wants to get everything he can out of it in his old age.

Getting our hands dirty

In Bolívar State, the hope of survival is mixed with the struggle for survival. It’s about the big money that makes the gangs rich and the exploitation of those who have no other options. Illegal activities are rampant – everyone has adapted.

Most of the few foreigners pass through quickly. The few days we spent there showed us a different world: in the lungs of the world, you need a mask to live.

Picopando has sired numerous offspring. Today, he spends his twilight years with his female in their enclosure. Releasing them into the wild would be too dangerous for the animals – not because they lack hunting skills, but because of humans. The main cause of the downfall of the Orinoco crocodile in general.

South America’s unique crocodile

The Orinoco crocodile (Crocodylus intermedius) is the only true crocodilian that lives exclusively in South America. There are some populations of the American crocodile (Crocodylus acutus) in Ecuador and Colombia, but all other species are caimans. However, the variety of names often leads to confusion:

• In Venezuela, the Orinoco crocodile is called Caimán llanero.
• The spectacled caiman (Caiman yacare) is called Babilla in the Llanos, while its southern counterpart is called Lagarto in Bolivia and Yacare in Argentina.
• And the small dwarf caimans (Paleosuchus) are often called Cocodrilo in Bolivia.

A huge mess.

A relic from ancient times – and an uncertain future

The days when Humboldt was warned not to look over the edge of the boat, lest he be eaten by a crocodile, are definitely over in the Llanos. It is only thanks to breeding stations and a few organisations that the animal still exists in the wild – who knows for how much longer.

Picopando has long since done his part to preserve the species. Today, he is enjoying his retirement. He snatches the piece of meat that the keeper throws in front of his snout and swallows it whole. Then he glides back into the water – only his small eyes still visible above the surface.

Two years ago, Venezuela wasn’t on our agenda. But during our trip, we kept hearing from others who were travelling to the country. ‘Is it possible now?’ we asked ourselves. That was in 2024, when we were finally convinced to take the plunge. But then the presidential elections came and unrest broke out. Foreigners were increasingly being arrested again. No one really knew exactly what was happening. The media revealed little. The situation was anything but transparent. At the beginning of 2025, one thing is certain for us: no, Venezuela is not an option.

But the weeks pass and we hear a lot of good things again. Things seem to have calmed down… Somehow, we’re tempted. We decide to go looking ourselves. Is what everyone says true? Is it really that dangerous? Are they really that nice? And then, suddenly, we’re already at the border.

A slightly different border crossing

Beforehand, we filled up the car with petrol, hid lots of dollars in notes throughout the car (there are no cash machines to withdraw money) and bought food. We printed out and copied all the necessary documents. Now it’s serious.

In Colombia, the procedure is quick. Some money changers try to rip us off, but a quick call to our Venezuelan contact is enough and we politely decline. Then we head to the other side. I’m getting more nervous. We can park the car in front of passport control; there is hardly anyone queuing. We hand over our passports and a few phone calls are made. We are told to wait. Then a woman in black arrives: the secret service wants to talk to us. ‘Ugh, this isn’t going to end well,’ I think to myself. Not just once that day.

We are kindly invited into a white container. Inside, there are two tables, a computer, a bench and a small coffee machine. Of course, there are also portraits of Venezuela’s most important heads of state (Bolívar, Chávez and Maduro). They ask us about our intentions and our route and search the internet. The data is also forwarded – probably to headquarters in the capital. And they find something.

‘Can you explain this?’ the official asks me, showing me a photo of myself in army uniform. I think to myself: OK, that’s it. This isn’t going to end well.

I explain to him how the photo came about. He nods briefly and continues searching. Eventually, we are given a coffee and a few tips on what to visit in Venezuela. Then he asks us to record a video: we have to introduce ourselves and explain what we plan to do in the country. Everything seems to be sorted out. The official then helps us exchange money without getting a bad exchange rate. Although it’s still not the correct amount, because normally you get more than the official exchange rate, as no one wants Venezuelan bolívares. But then it’s time: we get our passports stamped – Bienvenidos a Venezuela.

20 checkpoints along 116 kilometres

Two hours later, the car also has the necessary permit, and we are allowed to enter the country. The journey starts towards the city of Maracaibo. It is just under 116 kilometres away. The roads are better than expected; there are a few potholes, but that is normal in this entire region. There are also more checkpoints than we expected. We had been warned about this in advance. We pass a total of 20 checkpoints. Most of them just want to know if we are foreigners and where we are going. That’s enough. But each time we have to slow down and wait for a signal. We have to get used to this, because it will accompany us throughout the entire journey. By the end of our trip through the country, we will have passed 205 checkpoints.

A cheap beer for dinner

Maracaibo is a hot city. The entire region resembles Morocco more than Latin America. The women wear colourful, airy robes that cover their entire bodies and usually headscarves to protect them from the sun.

We arrive in the city at nightfall, feeling a little nervous as it is supposed to be dangerous at night and we have decided to always find a safe place to sleep early enough. We have a contact and a place where we can stay safely. But it’s not that easy to find, and there’s no one there when we arrive. However, the neighbours help us and we manage to reach the owner. He sends someone over to open the place. It’s not nice, actually quite dirty. We’d rather not use the toilets, and there’s no shower either.

But the view of the Maracaibo Bridge is priceless, and the food in the restaurant next door is prohibitively expensive. We are tired, don’t know how things work yet, and decide on the cheapest thing on the menu, a beer, and then off to bed.

Empty roads driving through the city

The pollution is extreme. The villages built on stilts in the lake are beautiful, but there is a lot of rubbish around them. With the little they find, they build their houses or try to maintain them. Nevertheless, we decide not to eat fish in Santa Rosa del Agua. We continue driving through the city in an old Chevrolet Malibu. It jolts and rattles, and ‘Viva Venezuela’ blares from the speakers at full volume. The speedometer no longer works – we have a clear run through the town, with almost no traffic. An abandoned McDonald’s crumbles at the side of the road, it tells of better times.

We make a short stop and a woman gets out – there is room for up to six people. We continue our journey in the colectivo, the shared taxi. These are their public transport vehicles for short distances and most of them are old timers. It costs us very little, only 40 bolivars per person (40 US cents), and the taxi driver explains that he runs on gas. Petrol is too expensive, but gas is almost free. Petrol is also subsidised, but it is not always available, and the car’s consumption would also be immense, at least 25 litres per 100 kilometres.

Empanadas and rum

For lunch, we go to the supermarket’s food court. They serve large, meat-filled empanadas with Venezuelan tartar sauce. They are incredibly delicious – throughout the whole country. The supermarket is filled to the brim, you can buy everything there, the prices are marked in dollars and not necessarily cheap. But empty shelves? Not a chance. Right at the entrance, there is a stand where you can sample rum. We try rum with ginger ale and a splash of lemon for the first time. A drink that keeps on coming back throughout the entire trip.

In 2015, Venezuela struggled with extreme supply shortages. That’s where the images of long queues come from. There was nothing to buy, even if you had money. Everything was rationed. Even napkins were cut up to have more paper – if you could find any at all. Some people still do this today – habits are hard to change. Although Venezuela produces a lot itself, it also needed fertilisers for its agricultural economy, for example. These did not enter the country. No one could farm on a large scale anymore. People had to fight for survival.

Today, things look different. The city is still far too big for the number of people who live there. Many houses have fallen into disrepair or stand empty because their owners have emigrated. They are cheap to buy, even in the centre of Maracaibo. But although property is cheap, life itself is expensive in all of Venezuela.

Our answer: very good

We are amazed during our first few days in Venezuela. Things work differently here, not better or worse, but differently than we expected. The food is delicious, the service is surprisingly good, the markets are full and there are no queues at the petrol stations. And what we find particularly special is that the people are friendly, courteous, helpful, curious and not at all pushy. We have to actively approach them and ask if they have any questions, because their curiosity is written all over their faces: How do these tourists like Venezuela?

Our answer, even today: very much.