Formerly, the Caribbean island and its heavenly beaches welcomed charters of tourists, particularly Americans, but years of political and economic crisis, the coronavirus pandemic and repeated power cuts put an end to this blessed period.
Recently, residents and tourists suffered two weeks of electricity rationing after the explosion of an installation in the neighboring state of Monagas, vital for the supply of this island of 500,000 inhabitants.
The accident — which the government blamed on sabotage — and the blackouts that followed were another blow to residents.
Traders are fighting to save their stores in this “Pearl of the Caribbean” which has long remained a haven of peace in a troubled environment.
In the neighborhood of Santiago Mariño Avenue, the historic popular commercial artery, Juan Caiman refuses to give up. He makes elegant wooden beds near the Margarita Hotel.
“All my friends have left, but I don’t want to leave,” says this 44-year-old cabinetmaker, son of a Colombian who came to Venezuela in the 1980s to escape the violence unleashed by drug trafficker Pablo Escobar.
Since then, it is Venezuelans who have been hit by a wave of emigration – seven million of them, out of a population of 30 million, left the country in the face of economic difficulties.
In the neighboring store, Fadwa Hage sells swimwear and sporting goods. She continues to believe in a better tomorrow: “Three new stores opened in this area this year,” explains this 55-year-old woman, who also makes her living thanks to online sales.
But the golden age of the island seems to be over.
“Today, the island looks like a desert,” laments José Padobani, a 26-year-old bartender, who says he feels “sadness” when he walks along this avenue.
A few kilometers away, near one of the seafront lagoons, cows graze in front of another gigantic abandoned hotel: the Lagunamar which closed its doors during the crisis in 2017.
Mountains of rubble pile up next to an empty swimming pool. Lamps and toilets litter the old garden. You would think it was devastated by a hurricane or earthquake, but it was actually vandalized.
The ruins contrast with some seaside complexes which are thriving thanks to a new audience.
To try to revive Margarita, the government has in fact set up a program aimed at attracting Russian and, more recently, Cuban and Polish customers.
These are “all-inclusive” packages including unlimited alcohol (which is sold tax-free on the island) in hotels equipped with generators.
According to official figures, 40,000 people from Russia — a political ally of Venezuela — have visited the island since 2023.
Signs reading “welcome” have been installed in Russian, Turkish, Polish and Chinese, while on the beaches kite surfing lessons are offered, also in these languages.
The residents are complaining. They do not benefit from this new windfall: tourists do not leave the planned circuit and spend little on site.
“We depend on Venezuelan tourism, because Russian tourists leave nothing,” says Demetria, a masseuse who has worked on El Yaque beach for 16 years.
Peter, a 44-year-old Russian computer scientist who is on his first trip to Venezuela, is surprised to see the abandoned hotels, shops and restaurants: “It looks like they are intended to accommodate at least ten times more tourists.”
In Las Maritas, a popular neighborhood, a small hot dog stand defies the darkness. Crismar Lopez uses two candles to light his kitchen. Her husband and the youngest of their three children serve customers. Two hot dogs for 1.5 dollars, the hamburger for 4.
They have just reopened, after two weeks of closure due to power cuts, because they could not refrigerate the food.
“The island has declined a lot,” admits Ms. Lopez, 47 years old. “But the Venezuelans are still in the D system, we continue to fight.”
In his shop, Hage is convinced that Margarita will be reborn. “We have beaches, mountains, there are lots of activities to invest in. This island is unique!”
