The journey over the land border from Venezuela to Brazil can be summed up with the consolidation of lyrics from two Johnny Cash classics: "I walk the line… and it burns, burns, burns". After taking an over-night bus from Ciudad Bolívar to the Venezuelan border town of Santa Elena de Uairén, I decided to stay for a day/night rather than plough straight through on another mammoth bus journey. It's a quaint little town which feels very safe and friendly, but is very very hot. Just near Plaza Bolívar there is a street corner packed with men wanting to change US$ for BsF and it made me glad that I was on my way to a country where I can go to a bank to get my money! After just one night I took a bus to the border, locally known as La Linéa and managed to find the office at the Venezuelan end to get my passport stamped. I even managed a conversation with the lady and could answer all her questions, my Spanish is definitely coming along… just in time for me to move to a non-Spanish speaking country! I asked her where the Brazilian formalities are done and she gave me directions – for a 1km walk :-o

So off I went, past the petrol station with the famous cheap Venezuelan petrol, past the armed guards and their hard stares and into no man’s land. I asked someone who had stopped in their car (smart idea to drive not walk) to take a photo of me at the border, but they did a pretty poor job and cut out most of the border… maybe my Spanish isn’t so good after all. Then I continued with my walk in the blazing sunshine to try and find the Brazilian immigration place. When I finally arrived I was greeted by a federal policeman who (much to my relief) could speak English, he directed me to an office to get all the passport business done with a man who only spoke Portuguese, but we got there in the end.

With just a tiny bit of Venezuelan currency and a small stash of US$ I needed to get myself to the nearest cash point/money changer. I asked the policeman who told me I could not change money on a Sunday, and there were no cash points for miles (despite someone in Santa Elena telling me otherwise :@) As shared taxi fares and bus prices to Boa Vista were pretty much the same in price, but quite different in time I opted for the taxi and asked the nice policeman if it would be possible to pay for a taxi in US$. I was told that this was illegal and if I was to do this, then I would need to make sure he was not watching me… 10 minutes later he called me over to say he had found a driver who would accept US$! So off I went, no time/balls for taking a photo of all the cars that had been impounded for trying to leave Venezuela with more than one tank of petrol… off on a quest to pick up additional passengers for the journey – a young Venezuelan couple who were heading to Boa Vista for a couple of days’ holiday.

So, there it was… my first time crossing the Equator on land and I have no idea where it was! I arrived in Boa Vista bus station and located a cash point, toilet and got some food. From Boa Vista I had to take another over-night bus (to Manaus), and managed to buy myself a ticket with the Portuguese phrases I found in the back of my Lonely Planet. I even managed to find someone to help me open an impossibly tight bottle of water by asking in Spanish and using actions… maybe Brazil won’t be so tough after all?!