Friday in the daytime, with the oil industry completely shutting down, there started being reports of a gasoline shortage in Venezuela. The news showed people lining up at already-empty gas pumps all over the country. Ferries were shut down, and no more boats were leaving the country by Friday afternoon. Domestic flights started getting canceled, and rumors circulated of international flights being stopped as well. This was not good.

So, like many on Friday night, I took the one flight I could out of the far reaches of the country and into Caracas. Although this is where the situation was most explosive, it was also the best place to get a flight out of the country, if not the only place. When I got off the plane, everyone was gathered around TVs in the airport, and we learned that gunmen dressed in civilian clothing had opened fire on a crowd in downtown Caracas, killing three people including a seven-year-old girl, and injuring 16 more.

I spent Friday night in a hotel in Caracas, hoping with all my heart that I could catch a flight out the next day. I did. Had three cosmopolitans in Miami, then landed safely and happily in chilly Montreal, about 11 pm last night. Breathing in the familiar smell of my apartment was rapture.