Venezuela and Caribbean Travel
Venezuelan - Cable car system is high point of visit to Merida
By
May 9, 2005, 08:48

A Miami Herald travel story by Elliott Hester at www.Miami.com

For three weeks I walked the narrow streets of Mérida, Venezuela's most popular destination for budget travelers. This quiet town of 500,000 is chockablock with low-priced guesthouses 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 that help give the town a bohemian feel. I lapped up chocolate, spinach, and even onion-flavored ice cream (yuck!) at Heladería 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 Teleférico is a magnificent feat of engineering. It is also the high point (pun intended) of a visit to Mérida.

Built by a French company in the late 1950s, the Teleférico 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. The trip takes nearly an hour.

 The weather couldn't have been more perfect for a ride through the troposphere. The sky was picture-postcard blue, temperature warm, wind nonexistent. 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 Teleférico 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 Mérida continued to fall away by degrees, its low white buildings appeared to cluster. Before long, the Teleférico had climbed to 7,990 feet and docked at La Montańa 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 began 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. Mérida 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 Teleférico 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.

Breathing became noticeably labored. A wave of dizziness came over me. The Teleférico 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 Mérida. From two 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, two miles above town, I cocked my head and thought I heard the faint sound of salsa music.