People threatened me for over a year about safety in Venezuela. This seems to be justified, as the security slips out of control to authorities. During the day you can go out, but must be careful. At night in the cities better stay in the hotel. And you need to have a lot of cash with you, as black market currency exchange rate is 6-8 times higher than the official one. Fortunately the hotels were cheap, and if I couldn’t find them, I was sleeping next to military or the police.

I also had more luck than knowledge about the latest technical obstacle on my route - the bridge on Lake Maracaibo. Pedestrians on the bridge are not permitted, cyclists probably either. Hiring a boat was out of question as the lake is full of oil platforms surrounded by huge ships. Detour around the lake would take me probably around the week.
When I rode near the bridge, I realized that they might not let me go. That's why I did not ask for permission. Traffic is allowed one direction at time. So I took an advantage of huge confusion when they started letting traffic go and I did shortcut by gravel path on the ramp to the bridge, thus omitting the military checkpoint. A little further on, at the police checkpoint, I drove like a someone with permission. Someone shouted behind, probably on me. I did not turn back, but hurried up.

A moment later three policemen on motorcycles were next to me. They said something to me, but in the mid of the car’s roaring and wind blowing I replied that I do not understand. And what could they do? There is no shoulder and hundreds of vehicles are behind us. They left.
But the passing vehicles were horning on me without mercy. Fortunately, there were also friendly gestures. Never before so many people were filming me, they slowed down, opened the window and were recording the footage on their mobiles. At that point I had no doubt that the bike is not common here.
After nine kilometers I reached the other side. There, the military together with a group of aggressive people had been waiting for me. I was playing an innocent fool, and after a series of preliminary questions the confused soldier took me to the headquarters. There was another confusion, so after a quarter of hour I disappeared. I 'm very lucky that all worked as I wanted!

Venezuela, and more specifically the people here, won’t be on my list of things I miss. As elsewhere I also met fantastic people, but these were much less here than in the previously visited countries. Fortunately, Mother Nature finally decided to help me, as she wanted to say:
- "Many times I threw you into the mud, blew with wind in your face, soaked with heavy rain, froze to the bone... go home man" - and helped me with the tail wind.

I cycled pretending to be a local, not to provoke the robbery on empty roads. I had a city bike, on the rear rack loaded backpack covered in old ragged rice bag. The problem, however, is that in a country where a liter of petrol costs about $0.01, bike riding between towns does not exist. Also, just as I often was seen I heard the yelling - "Hello gringo". It seems that my plan did not work. I was terrified by a huge amount of roadside crosses, garbage dumps along the way, smelly dead animals. I had no reason to have a break along the way, so I cycled like a robot.

Colombia. I was looking for information about the last stage to be covered and the biggest problem – is there water on the Peninsula La Guajira ? I gave my bike as a gift to the first encountered local house and I was waiting for Daniel, who contacted me through internet a few days ago. Pole who has been traveling with family (including two small kids - this is a challenge!) When he arrived, we started walking.

At beginning everything is fine - a good track, huts, sky covered by clouds. On the second day we supply with water from a puddle, because we didn’t know how it continues. The heat picks up, we take a shortcut paths among the amazing cacti. We get ourselves into mangroves - branch of dense trees in mud calf deep. It was fun, but slow progress. The positive side however turned out to be an encounter of houses with the ability to water supplement, and even we had seen a small shop.

 

The last night. Campfire, making dinner, and then lying down on the sand and watching the stars. Perfect conditions - light breeze, warm, lack of insects. I’m dreaming. But Mother Nature has planned a couple of things to do for my farewell.
I entered the tent. Zips were broken, but since there were no insects, I didn’t waste a time to fix it. Mistake. Consuming sweets, flipping on other side and suddenly one of the sweets ran to the other side of the tent. Torch in hand to locate the strange behavior in the tent. I lift things and I found ... scorpion. We started to play cat and mouse. He ran in the tent like crazy, and I tried to invite him to an open space, so I could easily smash him with a bottle of water. He was amazingly fast. After some acrobatics in a small tent and constant laughter I finally gave him a mortal hit - well, it better I did it, not scorpion with his venom. After this original action I went sleep. How big was my surprise when in the middle of the night it started raining - in the desert! Of course I didn’t prepare the ground for this event, so after a few minutes I was lying in a pool - floor tent was floating in the water.

Wake up before sunrise, march on the last stretch. We do not have maps, so we're going into wilderness on bearings, by the shortest possible way. And it didn’t work as planned - nine kilometers before the goal we were cut out by the sea bay. There was no choice, we had to go around it. And because it was a bay at low tide, then again we were crawling in the mud. After three hours of hard work we were even farther away from the target than in the morning. When we finally found a solid ground under our feet, we started to accelerate. GPS counted down the distance, the heart had mosaic feelings. I began to walk quickly carried by adrenaline, my brain slowly started understand what was happening. I played my favorite music, euphoria filled me up.

Watching videos of some travellers finishing their projects, I often wondered why they cry. I was wondering how I would feel? – joy or sadness, euphoria or nostalgia, jump into the water with a shout of victory or calm walk with tears in my eyes.

GPS indicates this magical place, a few hundred meters reminded to the goal, I want to run. With Grazynka duck by my side I walk to the beach, everything slows down. So long waited moment is an explosion of emotions which went through my head - different thoughts, memories, on the one hand how much it cost my time, effort, fear and determination, on the other hand, that was not too hard, the question of motivation. I have huge baggage of new experiences, so many great moments, views, and contacts with the locals.

A few steps north and I'm in the sea. I can’t walk any further now, reached the most northern cape of South America - Punta Gallinas. And suddenly this fact came to my consciousness - I raised my arms in triumph, shout like wounded animal. I sat down in the water, reflexion for a moment. I was happy, didn’t seem the tears would come. I just reached the goal, ended my nearly 10-month journey, fulfilled a dream where I lived for the last nine years. But the end of one is beginning of another, different stage in life. In addition, every trip has three stages - preparation, physical being and living it in mind after its termination. So it appears that I will live with the expedition Forces of Nature for a long, long time.

 
Life is so beautiful.

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