In Pictures

The walkers: Venezuelans travel hundreds of kilometres by foot

Venezuelan migrants cross Colombia-Venezuela border every day. For many, it’s only the beginning of a gruelling journey.

By Megan Janetsky

Cucuta, Colombia – A steady stream of migrants cross the Simon Bolivar International Bridge – the main gateway between Colombia and Venezuela – every day. Some cross temporarily, for a day or two, depending on Colombia’s medical facilities, schools and businesses to survive as their country continues to spiral into an economic, political and health crisis. Others – families carrying babies and toddlers, young men and women, the elderly – heft suitcases packed with clothes, blankets, anything they can carry on their backs – and walk, unsure of when they will see their homes again.

For those who cross in search of new opportunities, the bridge is just the beginning of what will likely be a gruelling journey. Many do not have the means to make the exodus by bus because their currency, the Venezuelan bolivars, has been turned into little more than colourful scraps of paper due to rampant hyperinflation.

Instead, they walk, beginning their journey in the sweltering border desert near Cucuta, Colombia, with the sun beating on their backs and climb towering mountain ranges defined by cold temperatures, pouring rains and winding roads. Some head to nearby towns in search for work, others travel to Colombia’s large cities like Bogota (walking 563km or 350 miles) and Medellin (595km or 370 miles), many more flee across the region to countries like Ecuador, Peru, Chile and Argentina. Almost all are unsure of what waits ahead.

Al Jazeera followed the route many Venezuelans take as they begin their journeys in search of better lives than the ones they have left behind.

Marielis Rojas, a 31-year-old migrant, carries her 2-month-old baby with sock-mittens and packages of food and juice delivered to them just moments before by a passing by car while she and her family — Marielis Rojas, a 31-year-old migrant, carried her two-month-old baby with sock-mittens and packages of food and juice delivered to them just moments before by a car passing by while she and her family were asking to hitchhike. She cried when they handed it to her. They want to eventually land in one of Colombia's big cities to work, but do not know where. "Look, we've had to put socks on his little hands because they were so cold," Rojas said. "We don't know where we're going to spend the night because it's six or seven hours to the next refuge ... I'm scared the baby is going to die in my arms." [Megan Janetsky/Al Jazeera]

Dainer Garcia, his 7-month-pregnant wife and 4-, 3- and 1-year-old children left Aragua, Venezuela without a cent and are walking to Ecuador, carrying the kids along the way. "In Venezuela there isn'' — Dainer Garcia, his seven-month-pregnant wife and three children - aged one, three and four years - left Aragua, Venezuela with no money and were walking to Ecuador, carrying the kids along the way. "In Venezuela, there isn't anything, there's not enough medicine for her to give birth, there's no help," Garcia said. 'I'm scared that the walk is going to hurt the baby, but we have to keep going." [Megan Janetsky/Al Jazeera]

Joel Pino, a 23-year-old migrant from Valencia, Venezuela, lived eight months in Cucuta´, Colombia, working as a "trochero," carrying migrants'' bags through illegal pathways running between the two co — Joel Pino, a 23-year-old migrant from Valencia, Venezuela, lived eight months in Cucuta, Colombia, working as a 'trochero', carrying migrants' bags through irregular pathways running between the two countries. When Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro closed the border in early 2019, he made anywhere from $15 to $30 a day, enough to support his wife and son. Since its reopening, he has been sleeping in the streets and uses the bag-carrying technique he used on the border to carry his possessions up steep hills on his way to meet his family in Bogota. "It hasn't been all bad, because at first, it was going well, but then it got rough," Pino said. "There isn't any work in the trochas and now we're searching for a better quality of life." [Megan Janetsky/Al Jazeera]

Maribel Saez a 36-year-old migrant from Trujillo, Venezuela holds her two-year-old son on the side of the mountain road where they rest. They''ve been walking for 11 days and don''t know where they will — Maribel Saez, a 36-year-old migrant from Trujillo, Venezuela, held her two-year-old son on the side of the mountain road where they rested. They had been walking for 11 days and did not know where they will end up. Saez said she wants to find work so she can get the rest of her family out of their collapsing country. "This is the first time I've travelled this far," Saez said. "It's my first time leaving the country. There's this sadness of leaving behind your family. My mother, my other daughter, my husband all are still there." [Megan Janetsky/Al Jazeera]

Ramon Antonio Mendoza, 78, was born in Colombia, but moved alone to Venezuela 15 years ago when his family died and the economy was still stable. He journeys back to Colombia alone once again, this ti — Ramon Antonio Mendoza, 78, was born in Colombia, but moved alone to Venezuela 15 years ago when his family died and the economy was still stable. He travelled the route alone again, this time back to Colombia and wearing a Venezuela baseball jersey. He was headed to the small town, Socorro, nearly 322km (200 miles) away, where he wants to work in farms, just like he did in Venezuela. "I've always been a hard worker and I don't like not having anything," he said. "In Venezuela, you can't survive with the bolivars, you pay for everything in pesos." [Megan Janetsky/Al Jazeera]

Sisters Jennifer Borges, 19, and Yenireth Borges, 20, from Maracai, Venezuela sit outside a makeshift refuge in Pamplona, Colombia, and war jackets, prepared for the freezing, rainy nights that the re — Sisters Jennifer Borges, 19, and Yenireth Borges, 20, from Maracay, Venezuela sat outside a makeshift refuge in Pamplona, Colombia, wearing jackets to prepare for the freezing, rainy nights that the region brings. Yenireth brought her two-year-old son's blanket with her to remind her of what she left behind. "You can sleep [with the jackets on]," Borges said. "Well, more or less, but it's not easy. You have to put on five jackets because the cold here, it isn't easy – we're coming for hot weather to find this kind of cold." [Megan Janetsky/Al Jazeera]

Diana Acosta, 32, sits with her 5-year-old son Dalied among a pile of bags that hold their things. She was working in a farm near the border city of Cu´cuta where she broke her arm working and her bos — Diana Acosta, 32, sat with her five-year-old son Dalied among a pile of bags that held their things. She was working on a farm near the border city of Cucuta where she broke her arm working and her boss stopped paying her. Without options or a way to feed themselves, she, her husband and two sons decided they would walk to the northwest city of Cali, Colombia. They have been walking for 15 days. "Walking is a sacrifice," Acosta said. "It's a sacrifice, but it's to help my kids. If you don't take a risk, you don't have anything. We're risking our lives." [Megan Janetsky/Al Jazeera]

Marielis Gonzales, 42, her 22- and 8-year-old children, 3-year-old and 3-month-old grandchildren from Caracas, Venezuela being their trek to Medelli´n, Colombia where she said her son waits for them. — Marielis Gonzales, 42, her 22- and eight-year-old children, and three-year-old and three-month-old grandchildren from Caracas, Venezuela began their trek to Medellin, Colombia where she said her son is waiting for them. The family dragged their luggage filled with clothes, sheets and blankets, but no food or water. "Of course, we're scared – we have a lot of kids for us to continue walking," Gonzales said. "We know it's a lot of time until we arrive and we're worried that no one will help us." [Megan Janetsky/Al Jazeera]

Luis Pere´z, 16 from Tachira´, Venezuela fled the country alone after struggling to get an education and watching his family starve. He walks to Bogota´ where he wants to send money home to the family — Luis Perez, 16, from Tachira, Venezuela, fled his country alone after struggling to get an education and watching his family starve. He was walking to Bogota where he wants to send money home to the family he left behind. "To go to school, it's difficult," Perez said. "In my home, we were going hungry, I came here to see if I could work to survive ... I left behind my mom, my dad and my brother." [Megan Janetsky/Al Jazeera]

Yucilennis Riras, 38, from Maturi´n, Venezuela spent three days in a bus to arrive to the Venezuela border near Cu´cuta, Colombia, where she slept in the streets for two weeks, sold arepas and potatoe — Yucilennis Riras, 38, from Maturin, Venezuela, spent three days in a bus before arriving at the Venezuela border near Cucuta, Colombia, where she slept in the streets for two weeks, sold arepas and potatoes, and rarely ate. She and two friends were walking to Bucaramanga. There, she said, she hopes to make contact with her sister living in the country's capital of Bogota. "Right now, there's no way you can make ends meet," Riras said. "I have three children in Venezuela who are with my mama ... Sometimes they have food, sometimes not." [Megan Janetsky/Al Jazeera]

Yirlibeth Montes, 37, and her 16-year-old son Antonio Montes from Lara, Venezuela walk day-and-night to Quito, Ecuador after leaving everything they owned behind. The planned to travel by bus, but the — Yirlibeth Montes, 37, and her 16-year-old son Antonio Montes from Lara, Venezuela, were walking day-and-night to try to reach Quito, Ecuador, after leaving everything they owned behind. They planned to travel by bus, but their tickets and possessions were taken away by thieves when they were passing through "trocha", irregular passageways running between the porous Colombia-Venezuela border. "Imagine, who want to return to Venezuela? No one," Montes said. [Megan Janetsky/Al Jazeera]

Adriana Hernandez, 27, walked three days with her 2- and 10-year-old children from Portuguesa, Venezuela to the Colombia border, where they crossed through "trocha." She''s entering the final month of — Adriana Hernandez, 27, walked three days with her two- and 10-year-old children from Portuguesa, Venezuela, to the Colombia border, where they crossed through "trocha". She was entering the final month of her pregnancy and was walking to the nearby town of Pamplona, Colombia, where a woman she met on the border said she would help her give birth, but she said she is scared that she may have to deliver on the road while walking. She left two other children at home with their father. "It was hard because there wasn't any money to get a car from Portuguesa to here," Hernandez said. "There was a lot of sun, my son's entire body was burned. I've had to walk with a lot of pain, because my stomach has hurt a lot. We've had to stop a lot." [Megan Janetsky/Al Jazeera]

David Arevalo Acosta, 46, is part-Venezuela, part-Cuban. He works as a Cuban doctor stationed in Cali, Colombia, but after encountering a group of walkers on the border – including Darlinnis Toran, 25, and her son Jose Lopez, seven, (pictured) – after visiting his parents living in Venezuela, he decided he would walk with them and make sure they made their journey safely to Malala (Santa Rosa) before returning back to his station. "Once, the same thing that happens in Venezuela was happening in my country, but worse. It's been worse," Arevalo Acosta said. "We're here to help, to give them strength." [Megan Janetsky/Al Jazeera]