El Ávila National Park
One of the most evocative views that may be, is that which is from the top of the mountain area in which it is located. Particularly in the morning, at sunrise, you can see the different shades as a palette of a painter stained the Caracas sky. The town declared a parish in 1987, however has a history that goes back much further back in time. Data from the times of the dictatorship of Juan Vicente Gómez, in order to build the dam Maracao.
In view of the need to move the population to undertake the works, ordered displacement of the inhabitants of Antimanoy, Caracaya and Maracao, this floating population was moved to a mountainous location of The Junquito, Shark and Tiburoncito. The Junquito is located 23 kilometers from the road that leads to the city of Caracas, specifically the town of Colonia Tovar. This town, began to fill slowly to the point now counting more than 25 developments, mostly of houses and villas turning this town into a miniature city.
The fact located on a hillside makes people have to go up and down every day to go to Caracas to work everyday. Its privileged view of the Venezuelan Caribbean coast, its perfect weather for much of the year, in addition to their landscapes as may be seen in this panoramic photograph from The Junquito, make it a perfect place as a natural. It is also remarkable, soil fertility that produces vegetables year round. These characteristics, as the shuttle that goes up and down every day to bring people, make El Junquito a landscape of a private local color.
It is famous that the conquistadors arrive in America, large numbers of Italian immigrants, the legend says, was named the country for its resemblance with the famous lakeside Italian city, as Venezuela, Little Venice-and Portuguese, put the stone angle of many European cultural traditions. Among these latter, instituted in the new colony, the cult image of the Virgin of Fatima. Particularly during the religious festivals of rigor, such as Easter, you can see the richness of the cultural heritage left by Galician, Italian and Portuguese.
Caracas expands at night. Its boundaries seem vast points of light shining on the horizon. Concrete blocks that day seem inanimate, light dress as sentinels. Then I take my camera to look your best pose. Caracas has many faces as a beautiful woman. A backlight seems to be different if the shadows bathe. Apparently it will be said that a city as such is something that has no life. Of course, the streets do not change or live, but what happens in them is a reflection of the life of the people, instead it changes everything around.
From the hills, is an immense pool lit with purple color crystal, emerald green tones, gray leaden that loom over the city, touching the concrete and steel angles where thousands of people are staying out of that which lies beyond the walls. Suddenly one can come up with one of these guys who dress hip-hop style, with baggy pants, his visor, his chains, necklaces, her dark glasses, tattoos and hand a can of spray paint.
Like I have a delicate brush in hands, start making lines, curved, concentric, straight, designing an outline, filling it with color. Quickly, because the police can get around any corner, will develop these vast urban fresh in their language called urban art or graffiti. As the story goes, this term comes from ancient Rome, yes, almost two millennia ago, apparently the young rebels, because rebellion has always been synonymous with youth, written with charcoal or graphite, on the walls of the great city Italy. Interesting.
The city will draw their own murals, are left exposed after a new building was inaugurated, an apartment or any corner that looks too white. Light also the city draws its tones as his it were a painting: the alleys can be seen illuminated by phosphorescent neon shades: emerald, blue, red, pink, purple. Is a rainbow artificial gas and glass. The cabinets of supermarkets show everything on the shelves: color, textures, shadows and lights.
If Michelangelo, Leonardo Da Vinci, Titian, Tintoretto, Degas, Touluose-Lautrec, Goya and Andy Warhol, were alive, what might do from the window of the room with a blank canvas in front of them and looking down the night on Caracas?