From La Venta the road to Caracas rises another 150 toises to El Guayabo, the highest point; but I continued to use the barometer until we reached the small fort of Cuchilla. As I did not have a pass - for over five years I only needed it once, when I first disembarked - I was nearly arrested at an artillery post. To placate the angry soldiers I transformed the height of the mountains into Spanish varas. They were not particularly interested in this, and if I had anyone to thank for my release it was an Andalusian who became very friendly the moment I told him that the Sierra Nevada of his home were far higher than any of the mountains around Caracas.