Showering with Venezuelan cockroaches isn´t as glamorous and sexy as it might sound. Yet even this simple pleasure was not available in Mochima on Wednesday. There was no water. The village fills up at Easter putting a big strain on the water and electricity supplies. That´s what happens when a bunch of small business people are responsible for your town planning. The location of the cemetery is inspired. It´s right between the sewage works and and the village rubbish dump.

Local people consider the place a paradise. Maybe I was unlucky. It felt like Guantanamo Bay. From 2pm until midnight an enormous sound system in the square was blaring out dance music. An idiot DJ would occasionally shout out the equivalent of “a big up for the Caracas massive – a big up for the Valencia massive” etc. The walls of our room behind the fried pasty shop vibrated all day. A walk in the picturesque forest was out of the question due to mosquitos. You have to wear mosquito repellent on evey inch of bare flesh in the evening. This makes you smell like a gym changing room that´s been sprayed with fly killer. I´ve never been so glad to leave a place.

I generally feel after leaving cities that it was a bit of a mistake so it´s a pleasure to be back in Caracas. I´ve just done an interview with Katherin for the next issue of the paper and she has agreed to send a monthly report of events here. In return I gave her a the collection of Victor Serge´s articles on the German revolution to use as her model.

We´re staying in Altamira, home of the counter revolution. We breakfasted in a cafe across from the hotel. It had a security guard. He was holding an electric stun gun of the sort that´s used on cattle. There are parrots in the trees here but no cattle in the streets so the stun gun is for use on the troublesome poor who surround Altamira in their hillside barrios.