12th September 2004

The sun is back again and the waters have finally calmed down. Flights have finally started to come to and from the island again and many people have gone. Los Roques is an archipelago of tiny islands protected by coral reefs. All bar Grand Roque and Crasqui are uninhabited - by humans that is. The whole area has been declared a national park and is said to be one of the best places in the world to dive and snorkel. We took a taxi boat out to one of the islands, Fransisqui, yesterday. It is truly beautiful. We arrived on a beach of white sand and multi coloured water - ranging from the palest blue to deep indigo fringed by the brown murky water of mango groves. There is a lagoon in the middle of Fransiqui, which, three days ago, hosted a beautiful beach and a snorkeller's Paradise. I was really looking forward to my first snorkelling session. As we reached the lagoon I wondered why no-one had warned us to bring shoes. The 'beach' was full of broken pink flecked rocks. I managed to get myself into and under the water - and then nothing - bar the millions of sprat type fish that are staple food for the pelicans and lots of bare rock. The coral had died during the hurricane and the one time snorkelling Paradise was no more. The beach apparently used to be sand - just three days ago. The pink flecked stone I mentioned was dead coral. They say it will take thousands of years to reform. It's a bloody disaster. Another of the neighbouring islands has been affected in the same way. It's so sad.

We decided we couldn't argue with Mother Nature about her plans and had a lovely day all the same. We first arrived on the island with just some water and a bag of crisps thinking that we would go for lunch at the one cafe that Fransisqui has. It turned out it was closed. Nobody had warned anyone. Stupid of us really, we should have thought. The islands had just been nearly blown away and there’s us looking for lunch. An American couple we were on the boat with had a quarter of a bottle of water and that's was all. Luckily we bumped into a French family that we had met during the hurricane and they invited us to their yacht for lunch. I felt really bad for the Americans. We left them all our stuff though.

We have met so many people – That bloody annoying Brit couple who were disappointed that the hurricane didn't hit full force. 'It would be bad of course for the locals, but it would have been wicked to watch.” Idiots. The lovely Ali and Damian who we are hoping to meet in Sydney in December. An Essex Geezer called Richard who has been travelling South America for three months and is completely gagged for a shag, and loads of locals...notably 'the three amigos’ who get pissed every day outside our posada and insist that we swig their rum every time we walk past them – including first thing in the morning.

The fiesta which was supposed to last 2 days is still going on. We've been dancing in the plaza and drinking with them every night. Strangely only we and our other foreign friends seem to be socialising -I have no idea where the rest of the tourists go at night. I can't believe they are lucky enough to be here when there is a fiesta on and they don't bother to come at all. Strange. I can only think that the posada owners are telling them it is dangerous so that they stay and drink in their bars. Crazy and drunken it might be, but dangerous it certainly is not. Not here. It's a world away from Caracas. I don’t think I will ever forget the moment I returned to the Plaza from buying some drinks to find Tim sandwiched between two ..shall we say ‘large’, laughing Venezuelan girls who were gyrating away. He looked absolutely terrified. That boy needs to learn how to dance!

The French family I mentioned earlier is amazing. They are a young couple with two gorgeous kids of 3 and 9. They have been sailing the world on their yacht for two and a half years. I got the feeling the woman was a little sick of it, but she said that they had sold their yacht to buy a house and settle down before and they hated it so they bought another one. Nice life. I would say no stress, but they have to beware of pirates - no joke. There are many tales of yachts being robbed at gunpoint - especially here in Venezuela. Apparently a boat followed them for ages and then came in really close, but backed off when the men on it spotted the kids.

My favourite bar here is called Arecife. It serves great Mohitos and looks out onto the beach. At night they put huge bean bags on the sand and you can slump into them and watch the stars. The sky is amazing. It’s so clear. You can see the Milky Way. The Queen Conch is really popular here. It’s actually illegal to fish for them because they are dying out, but we tried some the other day. We were on a boat on the way back from one of the islands when one of the drivers jumped into the water and came up with one. Once they had killed it there wasn’t a lot we could do. Everyone on the boat accepted a piece and we dare not really say no. I have to say, it was delicious. It tasted like coconut flavoured lobster. Everywhere you go on the islands there are hundreds of conch shells. They are huge and the locals use them for all sorts of things. On Crasqui there is a huge conch mountain at the point of the island. I was a bit shocked when I first saw it, because I thought it was conches that had been poached illegally, but according to Gabriel it is a natural mountain. The sea has washed them all up apparently. It’s mad. It’s about 10 meters high!