Caribbean with Simon Reeve (2015–…): Season 1, Episode 2 - Barbados & Venezuela - full transcript

with thousands of beautiful islands,

and an incredible mainland coast,

home to millions of extraordinary
people.

This is a vast area spanning a
million square miles,

with a rich and brutal history,

and some of the most dangerous
places on the planet.

It's one of the most vibrant and
exciting regions on Earth.

It's the Caribbean.

I'm travelling right around the
Caribbean Sea.

This second leg of the journey
takes me

from the tropical islands of
Barbados and St. Vincent,



then along the coast
of South America.

On the Caribbean's glorious
islands,

I eat a pest in paradise...

Yes, baby!

...and I climb a volcano to meet locals

with high hopes for an illicit crop.

It's a sort of hidden, semi-secret
marijuana valley.

I travel through the badlands
of Venezuela's Wild West...

There was actually a shoot-out

between smugglers
and National Guard.

...and in the coastal
mountains of Colombia,

I meet an ancient people with a
powerful message for the world.

Do you think younger brother will
ever listen?

I was just off the coast of the
beautiful island of Barbados,



at the eastern edge of the
Caribbean.

With glorious beaches
and fabulous villas,

it's the Caribbean of the rich and
the famous.

But they still let me visit.

Flipping heck!

That's what you call super-yachts.

But think of the upkeep.

Think of all the cleaning.

The island is one of the jewels of
the Caribbean,

a proper bit of paradise.

Goodness me!

Welcome to Barbados.

Barbados is a major fly and flop
destination for wealthy sun-seekers.

Tourism's the main
money-earner here,

and has made the 285,000 Bajans

among the richest people
in the region.

But an influx of oligarchs

and movie stars buying homes has
caused friction.

On the best beaches, locals are now
almost invisible.

Many say they've been pushed out by
property developers.

I went to meet one man who's
holding out

against the tide of
gentrification.

All right. Hello, sir.

Simon Reeve, BBC.

- Pleased to meet you.
- Lovely to meet you too, sir.

Yeah, come right in.

Neville Ifill lives in a house
his grandparents bought.

You're going to show us the beach.
OK, after you.

Mr. Ifill, this is very nice.

A cool spot.

Can I ask, do you know how much
money your grandma paid

for this plot of land,
for the house originally?

24?

...four dollars.

And was this a less fashionable...

A cheaper place to buy then?

Yeah. Yeah.

This was, shall we say,
a toilet area?

All along the beach-front.

In the past, much of this area was
swampy mangroves

and only the poorest folk lived by
the beach.

Now, this is not a toilet area.

Now, this is one of the most
expensive,

valuable bits of land
on planet Earth.

Ironically, when slavery ended here
black Bajans could only

afford homes along what's become the
Platinum Coast.

Now, villas are replacing
traditional homes.

Paths giving beach access to all are
disappearing.

Some locals complain they've been
purged from the landscape.

Is that how it feels?

Have people come to you and said,
"Sell us your home"?

8 million?

US.

Why didn't you want to take
such a large sum?

Yeah, everybody always says, "Oh,
every man has their price"...

Right.

...but it sounds like
you haven't got one.

You're not selling for anything!

With crazy sums on offer, it's not
surprising many Bajans have

sold their simple beach houses and
moved inland.

But it was inspiring to see
Neville's dogged refusal

to take the cash.

Money's not everything, after all.

So a lot of people might think it's
completely mad to

turn down a multimillion pound
offer for what is a fairly

small patch of land, but if you're
in love with

a piece of paradise like this,

you can't really put a price on it.

Look at that!

Of course, the seas around the
Caribbean

offer much more
than just a lovely view.

Beneath the waves, the coral reef
off Barbados

is a haven of bio-diversity.

Like coral reef around the world,
it's critical to life in our oceans.

I went to meet Andre Miller, a
local marine biologist.

Permission to come aboard.

- Come aboard. Simon.
- Andre.

- Hello. Simon Reeve. Hello.
- Nice to meet you, brother.

Nice to meet you too.
Thank you for having us.

We headed out towards some of the
most beautiful

dive sites on the planet.

Coral reefs cover much less
than 1% of the ocean floor,

but support more than a quarter of
all marine life.

They act as nurseries
for bigger fish

and feeding ground
for the larger species,

so damage to a reef is a huge
threat to life in our oceans.

But now, more than three-quarters
of the world's reefs are at risk

of severe decline, threatened by
pollution and our changing climate.

Here in the Caribbean there's
an additional villain.

It's called the lionfish.

It's a stunning creature with
an array of venomous spines.

Lionfish shouldn't be here. Their
natural home is the Indo-Pacific.

Scientists think they first got
here in the ballast tanks of ships

or after being released from
aquariums.

The trouble is, lionfish have a
voracious appetite for the

young of almost every other fish,
and virtually nothing eats them.

They have, when grown,
no natural predators.

Every single day, they can eat half
their body weight.

They can clean up a reef and remove
all of the natural fish.

When we dissect these fish we find
every species of

reef fish inside their stomachs.

Are you really quite worried then
about what they're going to do here?

We are extremely worried.

If we don't do something now,
in a few years

we might just be diving and looking
at lionfish.

A few years ago I saw lionfish far
to the north in the Bahamas,

while I was travelling around the
Tropic of Cancer.

Since then, their numbers have
exploded

and they've spread across the
Caribbean.

They pose such a threat to reefs
that Andre and other

scientists have decided the only
way to stop them is to kill them.

He gave me a bit of training and
asked me to help.

Conservationists don't enjoy
taking life,

but as we've introduced lionfish to
the Caribbean,

many argue it's our responsibility

to stop them destroying this
fragile eco-system.

Good job, first I must say.

Well, thank you.

You filled up a container. Good job.

This is about 15 less lionfish we
have to worry about.

- 15 less.
- It's a start.

Because the more people on shore
start eating these,

then 15 becomes 1,500.

Eating them?

Yeah, more and more of our Barbadian
people, more of us are eating these.

Andre's culling them,

but he's also encouraging locals to
start eating lionfish.

If people get a taste for them,
fishermen will hunt them,

but it's not easy to find anyone
happy to handle the venomous fish.

We are going to, first of all, cut
those spines off.

Lionfish spines are still dangerous
even after the fish is dead.

That's the business
side right there.

And it is, of course,

the venom which I think really puts
people off the idea of eating them.

But you don't actually
sell lionfish here.

- No.
- You give it up for free?

Yeah.

You give it away for free?

- Yeah.
- Why?

People are scared of it.

People are scared of it.

Once you cut this off,
it's a normal fish.

If we take these to cook them,
will you stay and try it?

- Will you try the meat?
- Oh, no.

Oh, go on!

No!

You don't like the idea of it or
you've got something better to do?

With a bit of careful cutting,
the fish was ready for cooking,

so we headed over to Oistins,
a popular local food market.

What happens if you can't get people
here eating lionfish

and control their numbers in some
sort of way?

What will the consequences be?

The word I would use is "critical".

We need to do something now, we need
to be proactive, we need to act.

Lionfish has only been in Barbados
for two years

and already it's on every single
reef that I have ever dived on.

We're seeing them everywhere we go.

Thanks a lot. That's lovely of you.

Thank you very much. OK.

Lionfish.

Lionfish.

Mm.

That's really good.

It's delicious, actually.
It's sort of, um,

buttery.

Oh, come on, you've got to get more
people trying this.

All the ladies said
they're going to try it.

Go on, try some.
Who's going to try it? Come on!

Tell me what it tastes like?

Yes, baby.

It tastes just like snapper.

It tastes just like snapper.
That's all I've been saying.

Just like snapper.

I think that's the best thing you
could possibly hear.

And you've got to recommend it to
people as well.

I will.

- Promise?
- I will.

- Are you coming back next week?
- Get it on George's menu.

- You're going to try and get this on
George's menu? - Yeah, I will try.

That's what we're talking about.

- Excellent.
- That's it. That's it.

Congratulations, mate. That's
brilliant. Well done. Well done.

You worked hard there.

Mm-hm!

I continued my journey around the
Caribbean Sea,

heading to the nearby
island of St. Vincent.

It's part of a chain of islands

with a population of around a
100,000,

which have only been an
independent nation since 1979.

So we've managed to get
the only trolley

in St. Vincent Airport, luckily.

Who's this gentleman?

- Hello.
- Hey.

- Are you Tari?
- Yes, I'm Tari.

Hello, Tari. Simon Reeve.
Nice to meet you.

Oh, Tari, yeah.

We're going to be together for a few
days, Tari.

OK, that's great.
I'm looking forward to that.

The island is rugged and beautiful,

with an active volcano to the north
that Tari took me to see.

St. Vincent was a British colony on
and off for more than 200 years.

We filled it with slaves
and plantations.

St. Vincent is poorer than Barbados,
with average incomes of less

than ?100 a week,
and it gets a lot less tourism.

So this sand isn't the traditional
golden sand

that many tourists expect when
they're on holiday.

It's not so fantastic for the
tourism industry here,

but the volcano

is certainly very good at pumping
out nutrients.

I mean, the soil here is very rich,
very fertile.

That fertile volcanic soil provides
the island with

most of its earnings.

For decades, bananas were
St. Vincent's single biggest export,

but not any more.

Oh...

So now we start to climb the
volcano.

But we weren't going up
to peer in to a crater.

With the help of the volcanic soil,

many farmers in this area are
turning to a more illicit crop--

marijuana.

The US government says St. Vincent
is the source

of the majority of cannabis in the
Caribbean

and we were heading to the secret
farms where it's grown.

It's a hell of an effort to get to
these plantations.

We don't know what sort of reception
we're going to receive

when we get there.

As in most of the Caribbean,

growing or using the drug is
illegal here.

Somebody's helpfully
left a rope here.

The US military has backed raids on
farms here

and the destruction of crops.

As I discovered,

the marijuana plantations aren't
exactly hard to find.

Look, I can see a hut just ahead.

And those bushes there.

I think we've reached the
plantations.

This is where they're growing
marijuana.

I can see more acres over there.

There's a shack with more marijuana
up there in the distance,

up here on the hill, down below over
there.

It's quite an extraordinary sight.

It's a sort of hidden, semi-secret
marijuana valley.

As we got close to another farm,
Tari told us to stay back

and keep our camera hidden.

There's a farmer just up ahead
with a field,

and we're hoping
we can go and speak to him

but, not surprisingly,

he's not entirely keen
that a TV crew turn up.

Tari's just going to have a chat
with him, try and negotiate.

- Simon.
- Yeah?

Let's go, let's go. OK.

That's Simon.

Hello, sir. Simon.
Very nice to meet you.

That's Craig with the camera.

Safe, safe.
You're safe, means it's OK.

They were a bit camera shy to begin
with, but it wasn't long

before the farmers produced some
weed, and they all began to relax.

Even farmers coming from other
fields didn't seem to

mind our presence.

Are you all right there, sir?
Good afternoon to you.

Good afternoon.

Completely different to the reaction
we would get

if we tried to go to marijuana
plantations in Central America,

for example, where we would be quite
likely to encounter guards

with assault rifles, and possibly
would have been shot

twice in the head and dumped by the
side of the road.

There's none of that here.

This is not marijuana being grown by
organised crime,

it's marijuana being grown
by farmers.

After we'd hung out
with them for a while,

one of the farmers agreed to talk.

Do you make a lot of money from
growing marijuana?

Come on, come on. We want to know
whether you're a rich man.

This is a T-shirt
that's seen better days,

but you might have your Armani suit
back at your home.

- How are you defining that?
- Yeah.

Yeah, fair point, fair point.

I'm presuming you make a lot more
money growing marijuana than

you do growing bananas?

- Obviously.
- Right.

But nobody's bought a yacht or a
Bentley?

The way you're saying that it's as
if it's just another crop.

A green gold.

It is. It is.

There are thought to be up to 3,000
cannabis farmers on the island.

Many are hoping their trade in
green gold will soon be legal.

There's a global trend towards
decriminalising the growing

and use of marijuana.

Farmers here think they're well
placed to export to the US

and the rest of the world.

It's a key issue across the
Caribbean region.

If it's legalised you'll be allowed
to legally export it

from St. Vincent. You could make a
lot of money from that.

How?

Thanks to Bob Marley and reggae,

many associate the Caribbean with
cannabis, however,

it's illegal here and the vast
majority of people don't use it.

But it's not just local farmers
who think

legalisation would be a good idea.

- Afternoon.
- How are you doing?

- How are you?
- I'm good.

We're here to see the Prime Minister.
We're from BBC Television.

The desire for a change in the law
now extends

right to the top of the island.

Prime Minister.

Dr. Ralph Gonsalves has been
St. Vincent's Prime Minister since 2001.

We're happy you're here.

So this is your official home?

This is the official residence of the
Prime Minister.

Goodness me. Who have you seen in
this room?

Many, many important people.

That picture was given to me
by Fidel.

- By Fidel Castro?
- Yes.

And what a view!

It's a fantastic view.

That's not bad, is it?

Several countries and more than 20
American states have now

decriminalised recreational or
medical use of marijuana.

Hundreds of American farms are now
legally growing cannabis.

Dr. Gonsalves believes it's time
for St. Vincent

to start competing or the Caribbean
could miss out.

The current state of the law,

it ought to be reformed.

And that is part of the conversation
which we are having,

first in respect of medical
marijuana, and also in respect

of possibly decriminalising for small
quantities.

What you're setting out there is the
sort of different levels

of reduction that could happen or
dilution to the current laws.

- Yes. - There's allowing marijuana for
medical purposes.

- Yes. - There's decriminalising use of
marijuana,

- the small levels of use of
marijuana. - Yes.

And then, of course, there's
completely legalising

marijuana use, production,
exportation, etc.

That would be at the extreme end,
wouldn't it?

Yes, well, what we'll have to...

Clearly, if we dilly and dally,

if we procrastinate too long

you can find that...

we are importing...

pharmaceutical products with a
marijuana base when we,

in fact, grow it in our own region,

and we can't make any money from it.

The climate in the Caribbean means

this is an ideal area to grow
marijuana.

Cannabis from St. Vincent

is said to be among the best
quality on the planet.

Dr. Gonsalves is lobbying
neighbours to consider

changing the law
across the entire region.

If marijuana is going to be
legalised in much of the world,

he wants his farmers to make
a killing.

Think of the Caribbean and you
think of islands,

but my journey was taking me around
the Caribbean Sea,

and its waters also lap the beaches
of South and Central America.

My next stop was Venezuela.

Ah!

So we've arrived in Venezuela.

You might be wondering why I'm here.

It's not traditionally thought of as
being a Caribbean country,

but it is. And, in fact,

it's got the longest Caribbean Sea
coastline of any nation.

So we're in the car, we're heading
in to Caracas, the capital.

We've got Virginia, who is going to
be guiding us around Venezuela.

Hi.

Did you just say "Hi" in a sort of
shy, camera way?

Sort of. I'll get better.

Look at that. You suddenly emerge
into the city.

Venezuela should be one of the
richest countries on Earth.

It has the largest proven oil
reserves in the world and has

earned more than a trillion dollars
from oil in the past 20 years.

Until a few years ago it was led by
the charismatic left-wing

firebrand, Hugo Chavez.

He'd been elected partly as a
reaction against America's

meddling in South
and Central America.

Chavez used some of the oil money
to reduce extreme poverty

and said he'd create
a Socialist utopia.

There is government funded housing
for some,

yet because of gobsmacking economic
mismanagement

one in three people in oil-rich
Venezuela are poor.

Since Chavez died in 2013, things
have gone from bad to worse.

Venezuela's now a country in turmoil.

We need to be a little bit careful
filming out on the street,

I think I'm right in saying.
Don't we, Virginia?

Yes. The first time I came here,
neighbours kept on telling me

to put my camera away because I was
going to be shot from...

You know, by people from above.

- Shot?
- Shot.

Bloody hell.

Caracas is one of the most
dangerous cities in the world.

We were heading into a notorious
building called the Tower of David.

What's with the motorbikes?

They're going to drive us

up to the 7th or 8th floor just to
sort of make the hike shorter.

OK.

This is a sort of unfinished car
park by the look of it,

multi-storey car park.

And this is where we get out.

Virginia, what is this place?

Well, it was originally meant
to be a bank,

one of the leading sort of banking
institutions of the country,

but after it went broke it was
abandoned and then taken over by...

I don't know, close to 200 people
that turned it in to their homes.

So it's an abandoned skyscraper?

It's a squatters' skyscraper, yes.

Driven by poverty and a lack of
proper housing,

the number of squatters here
quickly grew.

Oh, my God, look at that!

Almost 3,000 people have been
living here.

Families have raised children in
the tower,

carrying everything for their flats
up by hand.

That's astonishing!

The tower has had a fearsome
reputation.

Violent drug and kidnap gangs
operated from here.

My God, look at this.

And there are stories of people
being pushed to their deaths

tens of storeys below.

Imagine bringing children up right
next to this.

I think it shows the level of
desperation, really.

That families have been prepared to
do this.

This is not, by a long stretch,
a safe environment

to raise your youngsters in the
sense that, you know,

they could fall down the stairs,

they could fall off the edge of the
building!

Look, just over here, they could
fall through a gap.

Look.

This is not good.

And yet, for the people who live
here

it was better than life outside.

Safer here in this shanty town in
the sky

than out there in the city.

I found the tower astonishing.

In the absence of government help,
people got on with organising

things themselves, even opening
businesses.

There's a little shop there.

From barbers' shops to nurseries,

the tower was like a vertical
high street.

What's going on here?

People are making cookie cutters.

That's a whole production line.

Making cookie cutters!

Goodness me.

Despite an intermittent supply of
electricity and water,

there's even industry in the tower.

Wow.

You've got a whole factory going on
in here.

We've interrupted you during lunch.
I'm very sorry.

It looks as though you're doing
pretty well.

How many cookie cutters are you
making?

25,000 a week!

That's...

His fingers went...
Thumbs went up like that.

Could you have achieved this if you
hadn't been living in the tower?

Look. Wilmer here has just given us
business cards.

He's such a businessman.

I think he's thinking about
exporting to the European Union.

We might be able to go in to
business together importing

cookie cutters in to the UK maybe.

People are currently being rehoused
out of the tower, but residents

have taken an enormous
pride in the place,

creating order out of chaos....

There's a beauty parlour on this floor.

They have committees to keep charge
of cleaning and security,

a real community.

It's truly inspiring that they were
able to build not only,

you know, houses out of bricks,
but also build a sort of strong

community with a strong
sense of solidarity among them.

You know, they really do look after
each other's neighbours.

In a way, this speaks of a more
successful

system of organising than most
Venezuelans have outside.

There is wealth in this country and
in this city,

but it's in the hands
of just a few.

Most people are poor and
struggling.

Despite Venezuela's oil wealth,
there are shortages in the shops

and a lack of decent health care.

Virginia took me to the

Perez de Leon Hospital which helps
serve the largest slum in Caracas.

Goodness me. It looks like a prison.

We met Dr. Mariela Formigoni.

What's with the sort of prison level
of security here?

Why is that needed?

Around 20,000 people are murdered
in Venezuela each year.

Outside of a war zone,

Caracas has the second highest
murder rate in the world.

It's a symptom of poverty,
ineffective policing,

and failing government.

But dealing with violence is just
one of the challenges

facing this hospital.

The bigger issue here is how to
treat patients,

despite shortages of doctors
and even medicines.

How easy is it for you
to get basic drugs

and medication for your children?

That's a basic painkiller. You can't
even get basic painkillers?

Of course, it's the poorest here
who are suffering the most.

I'm slightly blown away,

because everything we see here we
have to see through...

While at the same time remembering
how incredibly rich

this country is supposed to be.

This is not the hospital of a
wealthy country.

It's not just hospitals that are
breaking point.

There are queues for food, building
supplies, even loo paper.

It's a consequence of government
restrictions on

foreign currency which mean
businesses don't want to import,

and Soviet-era controls on prices
that mean shops don't want to sell.

The country felt close to collapse.

Next day, we left Caracas and
headed towards the Colombian border,

in Venezuela's Wild West.

We were heading in to a tricky
area, so we'd swapped hire cars

for more discreet local wheels,

complete with a shag pile
dashboard.

We're going to hop out. Honestly,
this is quite interesting.

But he does it right to the top,
doesn't he?

OK, so he's put 68 litres in.

How much is that costing you?

It cost 6 Ps to fill up the tank
right now,

so that close to a US dollar.

- One US dollar?
- To fill up a 60 litre tank, yes.

And many well-connected people here
can fill a tank even cheaper.

What you pay for a litre is what I
pay a whole year to fill

up my tank once or twice a month.

An entire year?

Yeah.

My yearly budget for petrol is what
you spend in one litre.

This is extra, extra, extra bonkers,
isn't it?

Petrol here is the cheapest in the
world

and is sold for far less than it
costs to produce,

thanks to a government subsidy
introduced decades ago.

The cost of subsidising fuel is
gradually bankrupting

the country, but no government
has been brave enough

to raise prices, even though the
subsidy benefits the rich,

who have more cars,
rather than the poor.

Look. There's a nodding donkey just
here in this suburban neighbourhood.

There's a gentleman just over there.
Could we just ask him

how often, does it pump all the
time?

Do you see the benefits from it?

I don't understand
where the money's gone.

This has been pumping for years.

Venezuela, it's the biggest...

One of the biggest oil producers in
the world.

Where does it go?
Where does the money go?

It's extraordinary. Venezuela
and Venezuelans should be rich.

It's unclear where the country's
oil wealth has gone.

Much has been stolen or lost
through inefficiency and rampant

corruption, and vast sums have been
siphoned off when petrol is

smuggled across the border to
Colombia, where I was headed next.

What's going on here?

Well, basically, the kids are
bringing over gas

and they're going to do a quick
refill for this guy.

Because of Venezuelan subsidies,
petrol costs a hundred times

more across the border in Colombia,

so profits for smuggling are huge.

There are supposed to be controls
and restrictions on petrol sales

near the border, but we saw
countless drivers filling

huge tanks they would take
to Colombia and sell.

Our route to the border was
a smugglers' highway.

Look, they're turning off.

They're just going to go down...

Well, a little track down to the
side...

...which probably means there's
a checkpoint just up ahead.

Yeah, I can even see it!

We went through numerous
checkpoints

on the way to the border,

but they were clearly not much of a
deterrent.

They've obviously just gone round
the checkpoint to get away

with whatever it is they're
smuggling.

Guns, drugs and food, as well as
petrol, are smuggled here.

Huge profits are at stake

and the border region has become
extremely dangerous.

Oh, it's, like, an army convoy.

It was a contingent
of the National Guard.

I just heard there was actually a
violent confrontation yesterday,

and a shoot-out between smugglers
and the National Guard.

Gangs, the police and politicians
are all said

to be involved with the smuggling.

As we got closer to the border, it
seemed everyone was at it.

And all those there!

Amazing! We're just off the main
road away from the checkpoint

and this is all completely
illegal here.

It's like a square mile of black
market illegal madness.

Everybody is trading fuel here.

It's been officially estimated that
roughly ?30 million worth

of fuel is smuggled out of
Venezuela every single week.

But the government here has been a
bit hopeless at preventing

the national coffers being bled dry.

We were spotted by one of the guys,
so we can't do a drive around again.

OK, the locks just went down, is
that because he's worried for us?

Yes. It might get a bit aggressive.

We were spotted as foreigners or as
TV people?

TV people.

OK, not good.

The fuel subsidy here costs more
than government spending

on education and health
care combined.

As we headed towards the border,
our driver admitted

he was also a smuggler,

and even he was angry and worried
about the state of the country.

So how often will you do a run
across?

Once or twice a day.

And how much money can a person make
with a car like this?

It's very lucrative for doing almost
nothing.

And it's easy money.

Normally, I can sit here driving
for two or three hours

and I can make as much as a
professional in this country

makes in a month.

Where do you think this country will
be in five years' time?

Every day, I think about what this
country used to be like

and what it's like now.

From top to bottom,
everything is bad.

It's difficult to see a future for
Venezuela.

We're getting close to the border
with Colombia now

and I'm coming to the conclusion
that Venezuela is

one of the worst-managed countries
that I have ever visited.

I've been in poorer places and I've
been in war-torn countries,

but I don't think I've been in one
which has got quite this much

natural wealth, and yet is being so
badly run.

What a completely lawless situation.

Right at the V that marks
the end of Venezuela.

It's a beautiful country with
so much going for it.

But, to be honest, the muppetry of
the government here meant

I wasn't sad to move on.

Here we go, Colombian immigration
right here.

There's a cop here smoking a fag.

Virginia, thank you so much.
May we have a little...?

Of course. Good luck.

Until recently, Colombia was being
torn apart by decades

of violence, fuelled by the
multibillion pound cocaine trade.

But over the last 10 years, life
has really improved here,

and after Venezuela, Colombia felt
like a bit of a relief.

Is she selling coffee?
Can we get one?

Tres. Tres.

"Cafe for the gringo," she said.

Look at this. This is a motorway
service station in Colombia.

- Gracias.
- Gracias.

We headed west, along Colombia's
Caribbean coast,

towards an area officially called
"The Banana Zone".

Look at all of them!

Bananas are one of the five most
important crops in the world.

We've arrived.

In the UK we eat an astonishing 5
billion bananas a year.

A quarter come from Colombia.

Mathilde, what's with the blue bags?

There's a pesticide
which protects the bananas,

so we can produce perfect bananas.

Around 80% of people in this part
of Colombia are involved

in the banana trade.

OK, thank you, Mathilde.
A very sharp knife.

Time for me to join them.

- Take the leaves off first?
- Yeah.

Sorry.

Much of the industry here has
signed up to the Fair Trade scheme.

Bueno?

Now hang on,
that's got the bananas on.

It ensures workers
receive better wages

and improved working conditions.

Ah!

Bloody hell, that's heavy!

This bloke's a train engine. Bueno.

Some of the farm workers here,
including Mathilde Castro,

used to be farmers themselves.

They were part of a co-operative
that owned

and ran its own banana plantation.

But they were sucked in to the
violence of Colombia's civil

conflict, when guerrilla groups
fought

against the national government

and the country descended into
near-chaos.

The conflict tore their lives apart.

Some men came and killed
my partner and his two brothers.

We were threatened and told if we
stayed we'd be killed,

so we had to leave.

Who did this?

The paramilitaries.

So these are the right-wing
paramilitaries who were often

started by corporations, I think,
weren't they?

And they came and murdered your
husband and stole your land?

Some of them have admitted to the
crimes they committed.

Why did they do it? For the land,
that's why.

During the worst years of fighting
here, corporations

and businesses often connived with
or even established violent

paramilitary groups to protect
their interests

and even kill their enemies and
claim more land.

Some of the banana corporations
who've been operating here

have got questions to answer about
their role in

what's afflicted this country.

One of the big banana
multi-nationals, Chiquita,

they were fined and given a
multimillion pound fine just

a few years ago because they
confessed

they had been supporting, funding
paramilitary groups here that

were targeting banana farm workers
and trade unionists.

Multi-national corporations were
involved

and implicated in the half a
century of violence in Colombia

during which hundreds of thousands
of people died.

I continued my journey along the
coast to the Port of Santa Marta,

from where many of Colombia's
bananas are shipped abroad.

Although the Colombian government
has had great success

tackling the cocaine trade, it's
still a major problem.

Drug gangs will hide cocaine
they're smuggling to Europe

and the United States inside banana
shipments.

I met Colonel Romel Bernate,

who's in charge of trying to stop
the smugglers.

So we've got an inspection
going on here.

We take them all down
and then search through each crate.

We found cocaine in with the bananas
and in the shipping containers.

What's the biggest find you've made,
then, in recent years?

In February 2014, we found two
tonnes of cocaine.

Two tonnes of cocaine?

How much is that worth when it gets
to Europe?

88 to US $90 million.

We've found drugs inside the wall

and we've found drugs inside this
section.

They devise ways of removing this bit
and modifying the containers.

And they try to hide them inside the
refrigeration unit.

The bananas need to be kept cool on
the journey, which is

why we have to open up all of this.

It must be such an enormous
challenge for you because,

presumably, if a gang could fill
just this area here with cocaine

and get that past your search teams
they make an enormous sum of money.

A lot of money.

A single kilo in Europe can fetch up
to US $59,000.

That says it all really, doesn't it?

I mean, that is the point.

Thanks to better policing and
detection, the cultivation

of cocaine in Colombia has more
than halved since its peak.

Much of the illegal production has
moved away from the Caribbean

region to Peru and Bolivia.

Colombia's violent reputation
continues to put off foreign

visitors, but it's a stunning
country.

I headed along the coast towards
the last destination on this

part of my journey around the
Caribbean.

My route was taking me in to the
Sierra Nevada Mountains,

the highest coastal mountain
range in the world.

It's home to an ancient people.

We're heading in to the land of the
Kogi people.

Now, the Kogi are the most intact
surviving civilisation

from the time before Christopher
Columbus arrived in the Americas.

When the Spanish invaders first
arrived here, most of the indigenous

people of the Americas were wiped
out, often by the gun or the sword.

But tens of millions died from
diseases they had no immunity to.

But the Kogi retreated high in to
the Sierra Nevada, which is

where they've remained.

Look at this.

We're arriving on the edge of a
community, a village, it looks like.

There are roughly 20,000 Kogi
people in these mountains.

They hunt and gather,

but they're also a settled
community,

who have farmed here for centuries.

Unlike many indigenous communities
around the world, the Kogi

are choosing to remain largely
isolated from the modern world.

There wasn't even a football
T-shirt in sight.

It's extremely rare for the Kogi to
allow a TV crew into their world.

They let me visit for a simple
reason-- to show us

how they live and to warn that
their way of life

is now being threatened.

This is right up there with the most
incredible places I've ever been.

The Kogi wanted to show me what was
at stake, so they took me into

their back garden-- the pristine
forests of the Sierra Nevada.

These misty mountains are home to
extraordinary bio-diversity,

including the most important
concentration of threatened

mammals, amphibians and birds on Earth.

We don't damage the
hills, the caves or the trees,

because they give us life.

These are the laws that
Mother Nature has given us.

The Kogi believe the Sierra Nevada
is the heart of the world.

Look at this!

Absolutely spectacular.

OK. Ooh.

So it turns out that the village we
were in is more of a gathering

place for farmers to assemble,
farmers from the community.

So each of the people we've met has
a little farm like this,

but they go to meet outsiders down
in the village.

This is a job made for me. OK.

Which one?

Ah.

Ooh. Flipping heck.

Have you little ones seen tall
foreigners before?

Lemonade, Kogi style.

Wow, it smells incredible.

Mmm.

I don't think it's alcoholic.

- Any alcohol?
- No.

I know I mustn't drink it all, but
it is very good.

So this is home tonight, the
village school.

We've got inflatable mattresses
inside and mosquito nets to keep

out the buzzing mozzies, but also
we're going to tuck them underneath

the mattresses and hopefully that
will keep out the snakes as well.

It wasn't a horrific night
but things--

Cockerels started crowing next to
our heads

at about quarter past three.

I hate cockerels.

The Kogi call the rest of us their
younger brother,

and they believe we're threatening
their very existence.

I went to talk with Mamo Luntana,
a Kogi elder.

What I want to know is how younger
brother expects us

all to live when you come from the
other side of the world

and destroy Mother Earth so that
multi-national companies can profit.

Younger brother has caused
so much damage.

River levels have fallen, the rains
don't come when they should.

Crop seasons are changing.

Only when younger brother stops can
this life carry on as normal.

We're used to being warned about
our changing climate by scientists,

but it's shocking to hear this
first-hand

evidence of profound change already
happening from the leader

of a remote people in a remote
part of the planet.

And this is something I'm hearing
more

and more of on my travels around
the world.

I'm nearly at the end of my journey,

but we're heading back down to the
coast to the sea.

It's not far, well, not that far
anyway as the crow flies.

It takes a bit of time on these
roads. Ah-ah.

And we've got a vehicle behind
that's bringing

some of the Kogi with us.

The Kogi have a series of sacred
sites around the area

connected by what they call the
black line.

It's part of their belief system.

Many of their sacred sites have
been damaged by development.

They've now launched a desperate
campaign to protect what's left.

They took me down to the beach and
back to the Caribbean Sea.

When you see this power station what
do you think as a people?

You live in the mountains,

but I sense the sea is very
important to you.

The Kogi believe our natural world
is being destroyed by us.

Do you think younger brother will
ever listen?

There's a desperation in their plea.

The Kogi have noticed our world is
changing, not by measuring it,

but by living in it.

It's been an incredible journey,

from the beaches of Barbados to the
mountains of the Sierra Nevada.

But this is the end of this leg.

On the next leg, my final leg,

I'll be travelling up the Caribbean
coast of Central America

and finishing my journey around the
Caribbean Sea in Jamaica.

Next time-- I join a research
mission on one of the world's

greatest reefs and experience
the coral kingdom at night.

And I go on patrol in the most
dangerous city on the planet.

I think he's got a bullet wound on
his chest. look at that.

Before finishing my Caribbean
journey on the beautiful

beaches of Jamaica.

Original Air Date:
March 29th, 2015