Michael Brein's Travel Adventures

Michael Brein - The Temple of Doom and the circles of Sand!

Here's how it really happened!

t was January 1996 and I was on a trip to Venezuela. The day was a bit hot, but not overly uncomfortable. We were on a Zodiac, cruising the Orinoco that split the terra firma–on our right, Venezuela; and on our left, Colombia. We were assured that the visit to the ancient burial caves along the Venezuelan side of the river would largely be in shade, and thus pleasantly cool.

must admit to you now, I really was more than a bit apprehensive about passing through the entrance, that in all respects resembled Indiana Jones's "Temple of Doom"–really! Would the gods be sympathetic to a party of gringos treading, no less, on this ‘has-got-to-be' sacrosanct ancient burial domain? What earth-borne crazy, stupid notion of ‘adventure' brought ME this far into Venezuela, literally, in the middle of nowhere?

e would enter the cave, then climb. It would not prove to be necessarily easy, but we would be amply rewarded for our efforts. Visions of snakes, spiders and rolling booby-trapped boulders, ala ‘Indiana Jones,' would plague my every step. It would prove to be VERY interesting. I would, however, remain uneasy throughout the whole experience, observing with a wary eye, biding my time until we would once again find ourselves just outside of the front entrance. We would proceed and accomplish our mission with no apparent ill-effects. Colombia loomed on the other side of the river, within a stone's throw–so close, so mysterious, so elusive and, yet, so far away. The mystique of Colombia–the danger and the excitement–haunted me. Unlike the others, I had an ulterior motive behind this afternoon's river excursion on the Orinoco–to, if at all possible, step a single foot in Colombia. I didn't actually have to actually go into Colombia–all I had to do was very simply just step into Colombia–that's it–straight and simple! If I could succeed in doing so, Colombia would be my 100th country–and I could finally achieve my long sought after goal–to qualify for membership in the Travelers' Century Club!

"an we boat over to the Colombian side?" I asked our guide. In the distance you could see a small brown building. It was a hotel in a Colombian National Park, the Parque Nacional in Tuparro. "I'll buy everyone a beer," I added, hoping that this gesture might tip the balance if the guide was giving my proposal the slightest consideration. After all, I had something significant to celebrate.

ecause of the circumstances surrounding the remoteness of the National Park and the tourist orientation of the area, it turned out that no formalities were necessary–you could make a brief visit, with no visa or passport necessary.

he moment I stepped ashore, "Numero ciento!" I was heard to shout! (No. 100!). The 10 or so of us moved up the steps leading up the embankment to this small, unoccupied hotel. We were thirsty; everyone was now set on having the promised ice cold beer. Save for two hotel workers–one Venezuelan and one Colombian–there was absolutely no one else around. I wondered how and why they kept this little facility open. The beers were brought out, and the celebration began in earnest. After about an hour, we began to depart. We descended the same stairs. But, in the corner of my eye, I spotted something very much out of the ordinary! Something that just did not compute!

ould this really be? Before me were dozens of raised concentric circles of sand, as if embossed upon an underlying stretched canvas of sand. "Sand circles," I said aloud to a couple of others who were nearby. "Just like the crop circles in England," I added. Not only had I been aware of these–by now famous or infamous (you choose) crop circles, wherein intricate, non-random, beautiful geometric and artistic patterns suddenly appeared in the wheat fields out of nowhere, without the apparent intervention of human beings–I had been in some of them! During several trips to England, during ‘crop circle season,' I was fortunate enough to connect with the right people and actually was able to experience some of them. I must admit, personally, that some of them did not feel to me to be man-made. No doubt many of them have been hoaxed, but ‘experts' believe that at least some of are ‘genuine.' What is the truth about crop circles? What is the truth about this Colombian ‘sand circle?' I honestly don't know. It still remains, to me, a mystery.

ut here I was in Colombia on the auspicious occasion of having finally achieved my 100th country–and now being able to join the Travelers' Century Club–a club dedicated to philanthropic pursuits above and beyond its simple raison d'etre, the love of travel and adventure.

hat can we make of all of this? After all, this was in the middle of nowhere–this was remote Colombia on the banks of the Orinoco river. There was just no one about–there were very few footprints–and certainly not enough to account for this widespread display of perfectly formed concentric circles of sand. Who was to be impressed by such a would-have-to-be tediously made design in the sand? And who would be the impressors? No one was expected to visit at this time of year–our visit was pure happenstance.

was left with one persistent thought, "Was there a connection between the burial caves on the other side of the Orinoco?" This was nothing less than amazing! Any ideas? Email Michael or visit and sign our Guestbook.

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