A scary start to a holiday

Kiran Somani walks straight into a nightmare

I enjoy travelling. So much so that I seem to spend not only most of my holidays, and occasionally term time, travelling but also most of the money that the nice men and women at the Student Loans Company see fit to give me.

Recently I went to Venezuela with a good mate, Nick. To be honest, neither of us even knew exactly where Venezuela was when we booked the tickets, let alone why we wanted to go there. However, we had heard about a big waterfall called Angel Falls, and that was apparently very big.

Although Venezuela turned out to be the best travelling experience I have ever had, the first day was a nightmare. Nick and I were almost murdered on a back road while sitting in the back of a car with blacked out windows that didn't open, locked doors, and a couple of mean looking locals with poor social skills and a very big gun. That was just the first day.

Good advice

You always hear about how to be careful in foreign countries. Making sure the taxis are safe and legitimate is one important piece of advice that should be taken seriously.

Okay, so the car didn't look great, but it didn't strike us as particularly unsafe. It was equipped with public transport licence plates, which are yellow, compared with the normal white ones, and its driver was wearing what seemed like official identification. Not being aware of what a standard taxi looked like we had no reason to suspect the driver would have a gun under his seat. All cars in Venezuela have tinted windows so people can escape the strong South American sun while travelling. We had no reason to suspect anything. Well, not until the driver let a friend into the front passenger seat as we pulled out of the airport, and I noticed the windows in the back didn't open at all. The real clincher, however, was when we turned down a side street for no reason and the gentlemen in the front rolled up their windows, locked our doors, pointed a gun at us and demanded all our money, followed by our credit cards and their access codes.

Local woman in Caracas (ALFREDO CEDEÑO/PANOS PICTURE)

At this point the prospect of actually not surviving the first day on holiday became very real, and as our potentially fatal reality unfolded around us both Nick and I went through phases when we were less than composed. Even after these guys had all our money and had used our credit cards at an automated teller machine, our situation just seemed to get worse. As soon as the front passenger promised that if we cooperated we'd be set free the "taxi" driver began to argue with him. Things didn't look good. We then began to drive in no particular direction, and it soon became clear that they were looking for a quiet road to drive down. It also became clear that the two of us in the back were expected to exit the car in different places. Things had reached the stage where the only consolation for me was that I possibly wouldn't even feel a bullet enter my body. So if I was to be shot at least it wouldn't hurt, or so I hoped.

A happy ending

The conclusion to this story was, however, much more acceptable for Nick and me. We were finally allowed to get out of the car, and as the driver threw our rucksacks on the pavement he was kind enough to warn us of the dangers of travelling in his country and told us to take care. Fortunately for us, our credit cards were also returned to us so we were still able to fund our holiday, although if they hadn't been we would have been dependent on our parents in England to send money to us through Western Union.

That night we eventually ended up at the Caracas Hilton where our faith in Venezuelans was partially restored as, after reliving our story, we were allowed to stay for a reduced rate. I watched a Nicholas Cage Film, and toyed with the idea of buying a big gun and mugging every taxi driver in Venezuela. Nick, more constructively, tried to sleep.

The following day we got a taxi to the British Embassy. At first, to our dismay, the woman behind the counter simply photocopied the "safe travelling" pages out of a guide book for us while informing us that we were the seventh and eighth British tourists that week to have reported being mugged. Eventually she gave us personal advice on where to go and stay and very kindly drove us to a hotel in a safe area and checked it out for us. She even offered that in the evening she could come back with her husband and take us out.

The magnificent Angel Falls (T MOSER/HUTCHISON LIBRARY)

The next day we received an endorsed report for our insurance company and were set to go on our way. The report came from the embassy, as the police were far from helpful. The same woman from the embassy had accompanied us to the police station, where we were kept waiting for two hours before being told that they would not be able to give us a report.

Several times after our mugging we seriously considered heading straight home. Now looking back it's clear to us both that if we had we would have missed out on one of the best holidays imaginable.

Living on credit cards wasn't too bad, although we frequently ran out of money when there was no automated teller machine to be found. Several times we were forced to borrow up to $100 from fellow travellers until we could find a machine.

In conclusion

Venezuela is amazing. It has everything you could possibly want to do. Latin women, and men, the Caribbean, the Andes, the Amazon, good drink, better food, a lot of friendly people who more than make up for the guys with guns, and an impressively massive waterfall. Even after the start we had, both Nick and I agree that we had an excellent time. I don't know if I really appreciated being able to wake up every day healthy, and feeling lucky to be alive, until this summer. I like to think I did. But if I didn't before I certainly do now.

Kiran Somani, third year medical student, St George's Hospital Medical School, London


studentBMJ 2000;08:175-216 June ISSN 0966-6494