In the days before Hugo Chávez and Nicholas Maduro, Venazuela was a lovely
place to visit.
By far, the most memorable entrance to any of the 29 countries I've had the
good fortune to visit, was that provided by The Venezuelan Ministry of Tourism,
in Porlamar, on the Isla de Margarita.
Margarita, off the north coast of Venezuela, had been a holiday destination for
Venezuelans for decades, but had been off limits to foreigners.
We were to be the first international flight to ever land at the Porlamar
Airport, and we were the first foreign tourists to ever stay on the island.
Somewhere, I still have a copy of "El Sol", the local newspaper, in which we
were not only front page news, but the paper featured a double-truck
photo-spread of us arriving!
In fact, the papers had done a great job of priming the locals for our arrival.
We'd pass a jogger, as we walked along the beach, heading from our hotel, (the
Concorde - the only hotel at that time) into town. We'd smile and struggle to
say "Bwen-ous Dee-ass" to which he would reply with a stilted "Good
Morn-ning!". It was perfect!
It seemed that the Tourism department knew that when we arrived, there would be
horrible delays. The Customs inspectors had been hired and trained, but this
would be their first real test, so everyone just knew that they'd look in every
nook & cranny of every bag. And it would take hours.
As we walked into the airport reception hall, we discovered that the Tourism
people had laid on a fifty-foot long bar and a band. They'd even provided a
small number of attractive young ladies for people to dance with, while they
waited to be called to have their bags inspected! I think it took something
like 3 hours (or even a wee bit more) for all the bags to be inspected and
loaded on trucks headed for our hotel. But, nobody minded.
All customs inspections should be like that ... everywhere!
David
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