The Mountain of Dreams.

When we arrived in Mérida, we looked for many of the tourist places to which we could visit, we tried to go to the cable car (Magical place because of its location in the snowy peaks) but buying the tickets to get in is a cumbersome process; so we decided to go to a place called "the mountain of dreams".

We went to the highway, we did not know exactly where it was, we were asking anyone who was on the road, and they indicated us with their peculiar and Andean accent: "Right, right and up". That did not help much, but well, supported by Google maps and the road signs, we went our way.

The mountain was located outside Mérida, in an area called Chiguara, we were already very very far from what was the city of Mérida, there were only mountains and cloudy skies that seemed to have their own myths, the road was long and inside the car, just was to joke and contemplate.

finally we had arrived, the mountain was presented as a theme park that paid tribute to the golden age to the world and Venezuelan film industry. already in the parking lot, we asked the parking attendants, how much was the price of the ticket and with great seriousness and security answered: "1 million bolivars"; There was a silence in the car, shock, fright, maybe a pocket trembled with fear, we started talking to see what we did, whether we entered or not, if all this mini trip would be in vain to not know the aforementioned mountain .

"ok, ¿what do we do? Are we going or are we staying? you have to enter, because I did not come uncomfortable to get here and not enter". Said complaining one of the parents who came in the car with me.

We all reflect on what he had said for a moment and with a lot of resignation, we accept to pay the million bolivars. By that time I had lost my previous steemit account (@chrisjares), this meant that I could not pay anything for myself on this trip and it hurt a lot that my mom will pay for that and my younger brother that amount of money, but she wanted to know the park With much enthusiasm like my brother. so I gave up with great regret that he did.

When entering the first impression I had of the park was quite bad, it looked careless, without any joy, the chrome of the attractions or antiques was replaced by the rust of the years, the sheds where the tour began smelled of neglect, disinterest, disguised as mold in some places. I noticed that the place had already lost a magic and importance for the locals and tourists but now that was already lost.

Certainly there was an aura of magic in the park, that once had glory and was the main attraction for tourists who came to Mérida and also for the inhabitants of the city, but time does not treat well the ambition of someone who he loves cinema and culture, which may have neglected his work over the years.

Already within the small city of Caracas that was ambient in the park, we could take a look at the beautiful era that art had in our country in past ages. Renny ottolina, the hour zero, the Billos Caracas boys and the mandate of Marcos Pérez Jiménez , just to name some of the great talents and moments that Venezuela had in its glory days, they were given a tribute and space in this place.

And the night arrives and the whole place now begins to turn into psychedelia, of true vigor and magic, the lights of the establishments gave a visual and hypnotizing spectacle, it was my mistake perhaps to judge before time that the park would have lost its magic but It was not like that, maybe you just had to wait a bit to be surprised.

and like night has its end this post too; I can only say that although it was a pleasant and rare experience to have been able to go to the mountain of dreams and meet the cultural past of my country, Thank you very much for reading, I hope and you have enjoyed this visual tour.