Yesterday morning I woke up early and decided to get moving, so I went ashore for a jog. Just before sunrise, there were already quite a few people out doing the same thing… and one rather unusual sight: a woman, possibly in her seventies, driving her car in circles around town, honking her horn and waving a Venezuelan flag. Mind you, it was 6:30am! – how to make your neighbours love you!

Little did I know what had happened just a few hours earlier, only a few kilometres away.

Later, while picking up our rental car, the guy at the counter asked if I had seen the news. He looked like he’d already lived through several crises that day and told me he’d been awake since 5:00 a.m. All airports and ports had been closed, which meant tourists who wanted to leave couldn’t — and those who wanted to arrive were out of luck. A rebooking nightmare for him.

When I mentioned that we were staying on a boat, he suggested we stock up on food, then added with a grin:

“Oh, you’re from Germany? Well, even if there’s no food for a week and fighter jets flying overhead… it’s still nicer here than there!”

Naturally, I went to the supermarket. And wow — it was busy. Like end-of-the-world-but-make-it-friendly busy. Strangely enough, the mood felt more like a community get-together than panic shopping. People were cheerful, helping each other, and chatting away. Best of all: the toilet paper shelves were still fully stocked. Humanity remains intact.

Not long after, domestic flights resumed and the port reopened. Only some international flights were cancelled — and in KLM’s case, the real enemy might have been snow in Amsterdam rather than anything happening here.

I don’t know what to make out of all this –  but one thing is for sure: though we are pretty close to Venezuela, there is a large body of water in between and we feel very safe!

A strange morning indeed.

The afternoon, however, delivered the highlight of the day: the donkey sanctuary. Home to over 800 donkeys, it shelters animals that once wandered the island freely after machines replaced them at work. With the island being donkey paradise, they went feral — much to the locals’ dismay. The sanctuary was created to give them a safe home, proper care, and population control. Most of the island’s donkeys now live there, though plenty still roam free.

Driving through the sanctuary was pure joy… I am officially and unapologetically obsessed with donkeys.

We then continued exploring the island and visited the Blow Hole on the east coast. The landscape there is wild, barren, and windy enough to convince even the toughest trees to give up.

We returned to the boat tired, happy, full of donkey love — and curious to see what today has in store.