For three weeks I walked the narrow streets of Merida, Venezuela’s, most popular destination for budget travelers. This quiet town of 500,000 is chock-a-block with low-priced guest houses and eateries, and is surrounded–in the most picturesque manner imaginable–by the towering Andes.
I peeked through the gates at the Universidad de los Andes, home to 40,000 students who help give the town a bohemian feel. I lapped up chocolate, spinach and even onion-flavored ice cream (yuck!) at Heladeria Coromoto, an ice cream shop boasting 806 flavors–a fact that garnered a Guinness World Record. I ate arepas (maize pancakes) at steamy street stalls, sipped jugo de fresa (strawberry juice) at frenetic outdoor cafes and took Spanish classes in the courtyard of a 200-year-old colonial building. Wherever I went, the ubiquitous rhythms of salsa music seemed to drift above rooftops and echo among the rugged mountain peaks.
Up there, the town boasts a more impressive world record.
The world’s highest and longest cable car system, the Teleferico is a magnificent feat of engineering. It is also the high point (pun intended) of a visit to Merida. Built by a French company in the late 1950s, the Teleferico begins its lofty ascent at 5,172 feet, near the city center. The ride continues for nearly 8 miles to the top of Pico Espejo (15,629 feet), the second-highest peak in Venezuela. It’s a 10,457-foot climb, covered in four dramatic stages, and takes nearly an hour.
In the past, sections of the Teleferico have been periodically closed due to maintenance problems. It’s not unusual for the entire system to be shut down for weeks at a time. On the day I arrived, however, the pride and joy of Merida was operational. Well, at least three-fourths of it was.
The weather couldn’t have been more perfect for a ride through the troposphere. The sky was picture-postcard blue, temperature warm, wind non-existent. Soft white clouds coated the western peaks like icing on a mountainous cake.
Along with 30 other oglers, I filed into the spacious cable car and took a seat in front of a wall of windows. As the giant sprocket wheel began to turn at the station, the car lurched upward, dangling from what appeared to be a woefully thin metal cable. With a sudden jolt, the ground dropped from beneath us. The Teleferico began to rise. I felt like a kid on an amusement park ride.
We climbed up and over the treetops, soaring soundlessly above the wooden shacks on the outskirts of town. We sailed over the Chama River, which meanders along the town’s eastern border. As Merida continued to fall away by degrees, its low white buildings appeared to cluster. Before long, the Teleferico had climbed to 7,990 feet and docked at La Montana station.
Here, we exited the cable car and boarded another that would carry us on the second leg of the journey. The giant sprocket wheel turned. The cable car lurched upward. Through an open window, I felt the early morning air begin to chill.
From high above the sloping trees, I looked down and saw several figures on horseback. The riders moved along a winding trail that was barely visible beneath the canopy of trees. Merida is Venezuela’s pre-eminent base for outdoor activities, after all. In addition to horseback riding, local tour companies offer rafting, trout fishing, rock climbing, and hiking and mountain-climbing excursions.
As if to prove the point, a couple of rugged-looking Germans–decked out in hiking boots and backpacks–abandoned the Teleferico when we reached La Aguada station. In an effort to save a couple days’ uphill climb, hikers often use the cable car as a launching point for high mountain treks.
At La Aguada, I noticed a change. At 11,322 feet, the air had not only cooled considerably, it had thinned as well. We were more than 2 miles high, higher than I’ve ever been without being buckled into an airplane seat.
Breathing became noticeably labored. A wave of dizziness came over me. The Teleferico climbed higher and higher.
When we reached the Loma Redonda station at 13,267 feet, my fellow passengers let out a communal moan. First in Spanish and then in English, the operator announced that the final stage to the top of Pico Espejo had been closed for repairs. Loma Redonda was as high as we would get today.
I stepped onto the docking platform. Staggered to the edge of a rocky cliff. Stared down at beautiful, bustling Merida. From more than 2 miles above, the town looked like 10,000 white pebbles poured into a lush green valley.
Perhaps it was the dizziness. But standing there on the mountain, 2 miles above town, I cocked my head and thought I heard the faint sound of salsa music.
Contact Elliott Hester at megogloba@hotmail.com or follow his travels at www.elliotthester.com.
– – –
IF YOU GO
THE DETAILS
Be sure to wear warm clothing. During high season (Christmas, Easter and July through September), the Teleferico may operate daily. But during most of the year, it’s open Wednesday through Sunday. The first car departs at 7 a.m. during peak season (7:30 otherwise). Price: $13 for adults, $10 for children. For more information: 001-58-0274-252-5080 or 252-1997; www.telefericodemerida.com (in Spanish).
–E.H.
