It's been about seven years since my last visit to the state of Mérida, Venezuela, a place well known for its magnificent landscapes and mountains that form part of the Andes mountain range. I was also born there, as my parents were studying in the city during the 1980s and 1990s. However, I only lived there briefly, which wasn't enough time for me to adopt the customs and even the accent of the state. We then moved to the south of the country, almost a 24-hour drive away, specifically to the city of Puerto Ordaz, Bolívar state.
The city where I spent most of my childhood, although later in life I would occasionally go to Mérida with my family because we still had family there. But many years passed before I could return. It was during my university years when I was accompanying a friend for work. This last time, also for work reasons, was taking advantage of the company of a friend who was moving with his girlfriend. It would also be the last time I saw my childhood friend, because he later left for another country.
For me, it was always a longing to visit the state where I was born, and even though I don't have those attachments to that place that you could have lived in, I always heard anecdotes from my relatives, as well as hearing about all the beauty that the state of Mérida holds. On this occasion, motivated by my friend's invitation, we headed to Mérida. The moment I arrived and saw those great mountains across the moorland, I was thrilled and curious about everything I saw. Each town, with its distinctive features, seemed like regions from the movie "Lord of the Rings." It was a marvel to my eyes.
Once in the city, I was able to explore much of the city center, including its plazas, churches, and other tourist attractions—places I might have missed when I was a baby. The best part of the trip, however, was when we took a tour of Mérida's moorland, where we visited several towns, first and foremost the town of Tabay, where I lived for a short time, according to my mother. A small town about 30 minutes from Mérida, with large fern trees nestled among the mountains.
But the road continued, passing through other towns like Micuchíes and Apartaderos, to the highest point of the páramo, Pico El Águila, stopping at the Mucubají lagoon until we reached the picturesque town of Santo Domingo, where we took the time to enjoy a delicious, local soup called pisca andina, as well as the famous arepa andina.
It was undoubtedly an exciting trip; every day was a reason to explore this great state. However, many years have passed, and I still don't believe this will be the last time I've been to this town. Right now, it's a bit difficult to return due to the great distances we must travel. But there's always hope of returning to that beautiful land where we were born, a place where the ever-imposing landscape is present, with its great mountains sheltering beautiful villages that seem straight out of a fairy tale. I hope to return very soon and also be able to take more photographic material, much more than I could have during that time when I only had a barely functioning cell phone that served me well enough to take a few photos, as seen in this post.
All photographs are mine.
