When I read the questions posed in week #274 by @galenkp, I was reminded of many bad memories of trips I've had throughout my life.

First, when I was very young, I couldn't even think about getting in a car because I would vomit. The trip was horrendous, both for me, who suffered and almost fainted, and for my parents, who resorted to any means to help me on the journey. Fortunately, this situation improved in my adolescence, and I've been able to travel to many places, both nationally and internationally, using different modes of transportation. It's an experience I recommend not skipping.

Since I became an adult, every time I travel, I try to make it as pleasant and comfortable as possible. To do this, I take precautions, save money, plan, and find deals. This foresight has helped me accomplish my goals.

However, one trip I remember most vividly happened on April 29, 2019.

Due to an emergency, I had to travel from my city to the capital, which is about a five-hour drive. Since it was unexpected, I had to take the first available bus because I didn't have much money.

The place I arrive in Caracas is known as a red zone, so I had to arrive before 5:00 p.m. to save my life.

Well, I left almost at the first rays of the sun to the passenger terminal, and the bus that would take me to Caracas was "almost full and we were about to leave." With that promise, I boarded before 7:00 a.m. Everything started going wrong from that first sign, because we ended up leaving at 9:00 a.m.

That worried me, but I convinced myself I was "on time" to get to my uncles' place.

Along the way, as my friends @belkyscabrera and @tonyes explained, buses in my country should be eliminated from the market because they are so dangerous; mechanically unusable, sometimes without seats, without air conditioning, without anything. Just because they roll, they expose us to riding them.

Well, the speed they reached didn't exceed 40, so by midday, we had barely traveled a few kilometers. At approximately 1:00 p.m., they stopped at a gas station with the excuse of "eating," but it was a lie; they had stopped there to "fix" the problem. It took us about two more hours, and we finally got off. At that point, if I had had the money, I would have paid for another bus, which I lamented over and over again.

At 6:00 p.m., we arrived at the eastern terminal. I wanted to find a place to complain, but everything was already closed.

The terminal is located near the metro station in the capital's largest neighborhood, and it's during rush hour. 😢 For someone who's used to it, it's normal, but for the tourist face I have, it was really difficult. There was a guy who told me he'd help me get to the station, and I went with him.

Something I'll always remember is seeing a giant wheel of people at the entrance; I thought it was one of those events where someone pulls a trick and they take advantage of it to rob you. I didn't stop, but I could see between the remaining spaces A MAN PLAYING WITH A RAT. I almost threw up from the horror of the game, but I held back and focused on trying to get on the subway. I had about 12 stations to travel, which would take me another hour.

I had never been alone at such a late hour in Caracas, so I didn't even know where to take a taxi. Coincidentally, a man passed by and, seeing how bad I was, did his kindness for the night and took me to my uncles' house for a modest price. On the way, he told me I was lucky because he was already going home, as the city felt strange and it was better to be safe. I thanked him for the gesture and arrived at my destination around 8:00 p.m.

The gentleman was right, the next day there was a rebellion in the capital and that's why the weather was so strange and dark.