Monomad: My first cable car experience

I think there is one cable car in London, but I've never experienced it before. I'm not sure if it even has any interest in the general population. It was a surprise in Tbilisi to see so many cable car stations and ropeways throughout it when arriving. And even in Armenia the nation was riddled of the former Soviet Union's attempts to connect the locations with easier forms of transport throughout their more rocky and vertical landscapes. One station was abandoned and left to rot in the centre of the city, due to an accident that took place a few decades ago. The government claims to have intentions of reviving it soon. Here in Tbilisi, another cable car station that holds interest remains closed for supposed upcoming plans to revive it. The same story: an accident led to its closure. I've encountered tons of old abandoned stations along the way, all of which just left to rot. Some still holding their original cars. Roaming around the forgotten stations is always met with an odd feeling. Their structures are usually grand, odd shapes and sharp edges. Otherworldly in their appearances; though often missing major aspects of their structure that gives clear indication as to what they actually were in the past. When I walk around them, I tend to imagine the life that was once there. The interacts people had, the ways in which lives were impacted by having these forms of transportation throughout the city for them to utilise.

I look back at the transport of England, and the severe poverty of it all. Such a depressive feeling to get any of it, yet here half a century ago, and even now with some still functioning from that era, are the same cars that carried people to and from different districts in the city. Their shapes unique, almost looking as if they're from something like The Jetsons. I loved that about this experience, though at the same time I admittedly felt as if I was fearing for my life due to how old it all felt and looked. Even down to cracks in the frame that everyone around me seemed to overlook as if it was the norm, perhaps even intentional.

I though of the ones I saw in Armenia. The cable cars that stood hanging overhead in areas that are now mostly forgotten. I remember taking the train to Tbilisi and seeing the cable cars just sitting between canyons. As if time just stopped entirely and everyone disappeared. The car remaining in its mid position having never made it to the end and to its intended destination. I guess it's odd to write in such a way about a simple method of transportation, but there's something to these stations and these experiences that make them feel more special, particularly the ones that remain active from the Soviet Union, giving a glimpse into a specific way of life that is now otherwise gone outside of appearance. And this particular cable car takes you from Vake to Turtle Lake. Another area up in the mountain that seems forgotten for the most part. The only way to get there being to drive around and up the mountain or to take the cable car for 1 Lari. People even rode up with their bikes to cycle around the mountain. Their bikes hanging on the sides or at the back of the cars. It felt strange how analogue everything felt. Particularly in a world and surrounding so present and modern. So little felt as if it was part of the digital realm that we all feel connected to; as if I had decided to board a horse while everyone else roams around in hover cars. The first step on resulting in some shaking of the car, the sound of the cable moving to and from.

I was pretty nervous about getting on at first. It was a small car and very cramped. Such little space to stand, and the weight felt as if it caused a constant sway, particularly as things got moving. Each step you took around the middle felt as if it caused the greatest movement. It felt a bit more safer than the previous Soviet era ferris wheel that I had previously boarded a week before. To which that felt like I was just begging for death in comparison. The ride up felt at about 4 minutes; an aforementioned Armenian one lasts about 12 minutes. I'm not so sure I want to test that one next. It was odd to see how many people boarded this, the ways in which the city continued to rely on the cable cars. New ones appear to be being made throughout the city, though certain areas continue to feel dated.

This old car didn't have the windows anymore. And the doors didn't fully close. You could put your hands out of the window to which most people did. They'd hang their phones out of the camera and taking videos and pictures, risking a quick clipping against the tall pine trees. Sometimes the bottom of the car would scape against the top. The view from the top was incredible though, the city became tiny. Such a small city that became swallowed by mountains and taller buildings. I had the idea of one day taking my drone to one of the areas and photographing them in the middle. Curious about the cinematic perspectives I can get as it carries people down from the top of the mountain and up. Despite the horrifying feeling of being on the cable car itself, I'll definitely be taking advantage of the views it offers by taking it up the mountain. There's plenty of potential around these areas.