Hitchhiking Venezuela in 2026: From Toll Station to Toll Station
Published on April 16, 2026
Even if it might seem a bit crazy, I try to hitchhike in almost every country - from Syria and Afghanistan all the way to Venezuela. On my trip to Venezuela shortly after Maduro’s abduction in March 2026, this mode of transportation was once again on the agenda. In general, I can say that it works - albeit with a few hurdles. Toll stations are the key to success, but somehow also the problem.
How Common is Hitchhiking in Venezuela?
The fact that hitchhiking has a long tradition in Venezuela is already noticeable in the local name. Here, it’s not called “autostop” as in standard Spanish, but cola. To ask for a ride, you simply say “Se da/das una cola para…” and add the city, for example, Caracas or Maracaibo. Wanting a cola obviously has nothing to do with the drink, but goes much further back in history. Cola is also the word for a horse’s tail, which tired travelers used to hold onto so they could be pulled along for a while.
Since the old days of horse hitchhiking, many things have happened: civil wars, right-wing dictatorships, left-wing dictatorships, and above all, a great deal of crime. Between 2015 and 2022, the situation was particularly bad; you could hardly show your phone in public without risking being robbed. By now, much has improved, and the country feels quite safe again; in my experience, at least safer than neighboring Colombia. However, the fear of robbery still lingers.
Simply standing by the roadside with your thumb out is understood, but people tend to be hesitant. It can take quite a while before someone is willing to stop. Often it’s buses, and you can use the same magic cola words with them as well. Many will take you along for free.
How to Hitchhike in Venezuela?
The best option to hitchhike in Venezuela is to go to a toll station (peaje), because here cars slow down, fees are paid, and just beyond the booths, there are usually military, police, and drug checkpoints. This makes the spot ideal for stopping cars, or rather, having them stopped for you. It’s a good idea to approach the officers directly and explain what you’re planning to do. They will then ask for your passport, and the soldiers often promise to help you find a vehicle.
In my experience, however, the people at the checkpoints only do a mediocre job. During my hitchhiking trip through Venezuela, most vehicles were waved through without really being asked or encouraged to take me along. It only really worked once I followed up and asked the soldiers again. I had the impression that the officers were specifically looking for drivers heading directly to a destination like Caracas. For me, though, half the distance would have been just as good. Once I pointed that out to the soldiers, things started moving a bit faster.
My Own Experience: Hitchhiking from Maracaibo to Caracas
My hitchhiking trip in Venezuela began in mid-March in Maracaibo. I took a taxi to the massive General Rafael Urdaneta Bridge, where one of the most important toll stations in the region is located. As my Couchsurfing host had advised me, I went straight up to one of the officers, but I wasn’t promised any direct help. So I had to stick my thumb out by myself, at first without success. Here, I felt that having a sign really makes a difference, simply because it looks more unusual and sparks people’s curiosity.
After a while, there was a change of guards, and the new people were less friendly. The new supervisor ordered me to move in front of the toll station; not a great idea, since without military pressure, it’s harder to get cars to stop in Venezuela. At least the toll staff themselves acted nicer. Eventually, a couple stopped and took me across the bridge. A man standing there suggested I go back to the peaje, but instead he flagged down a bus for me that took me to the next toll station in Santa Rita.
Santa Rita - well, it was extremely hot here, and once again, I had trouble convincing the officers to help me. After quite some time, I asked the soldiers one more time and surprised them by saying I’d also be willing to go as far as Barquisimeto. Shortly afterward, things finally picked up: I got a relatively long ride in the back of a pickup truck belonging to Jehovah’s Witnesses. In the end, it was bad luck that we were stopped again at the El Venado toll station.
Peaje El Venado
The soldiers at El Venado were friendly and promised that I’d have better chances continuing from this spot than staying with the Jehovah’s Witnesses. So I sat down in the shade, refilled my water supplies, and let them handle things. At some point, however, the guys I had spoken to disappeared, and it was no longer clear whether everyone knew about my situation. It felt like hours had passed. So I had to take matters into my own hands, and eventually I found a somewhat rickety vehicle with four men heading to Barquisimeto, which is about 50 percent of the way to Caracas.
Getting into that car turned out to be a mistake. The people were genuinely friendly, invited me along, and were very talkative. The problem was that they perfectly matched the kind of profile checkpoint officers tend to focus on. Apparently, military and anti-drug units prefer to stop old, beat-up cars. And it looks even more suspicious when five men are inside, one of them a German traveling by cola.
In fact, we were pulled over at almost every checkpoint. Sometimes it was about drugs, sometimes about my reasons for traveling, and sometimes about whether I used social networks (redes sociales). I mostly avoided the last topic by pretending I didn’t speak Spanish. At each stop - sometimes even twice in quick succession when entering and leaving a town - we easily lost 15 to 30 minutes.
Palmarito
In Palmarito, a famous cheese town, the car eventually broke down and had to be repaired. The engine was steaming, coolant was hissing, and the driver kept pouring cold water over it in an attempt to fix the situation. After a short repair stop, we went our separate ways. I was back on the road, trying to find another ride well into the afternoon.
At some point, the people from earlier came back and told me the car was running again. In hindsight, I really should have refused and waited for another option. Instead, it took quite a while before the car actually started working again, and we only made it as far as Jacinto Lara, the worst toll station I encountered in all of Venezuela.
Luggage Checks and Corruption in Jacinto Lara
In Jacinto Lara, we apparently looked especially suspicious to the soldiers. That was the general attitude I noticed at most checkpoints: you’re never really treated in a friendly way; there’s always the sense that you’re under suspicion. Four men in a beat-up car with a German hitchhiker were probably just too much for them. I was asked to undergo a full luggage inspection.
Simultaneously, two officers unpacked absolutely everything. The woman in charge almost broke my credit card holder because she didn’t understand how to open it, while her colleague filmed himself using my GoPro. Eventually, the female officer discovered two postcards and started reading them immediately, without any hesitation or sense of privacy. I found that pretty outrageous and said so, but that only led to the cards being passed around for all the other officers to look at. At some point, they stumbled across a joke about white powder from Colombia, written in Spanish, and that’s when things really escalated.
At that point, my passports were taken, along with my phones. I wasn’t given a translator, and the officers demanded access to my smartphones. Next, they threatened me with arrest and brought me to the secret police. Then, in a quieter moment, one of them rubbed his fingers together; blatantly asking for money. This happened a few times, even in front of the other officers.
After about an hour, I'd had enough. My bag had already been repacked, and it was completely unclear whether I was free to go or not. In the end, they forced me to pay a $20 bribe, and that settled the situation. Even the four men I had been traveling with had to wait the entire time and eventually asked me to find another ride.
From Jacinto Lara to Barquisimeto
After all that drama, the soldiers suddenly became friendly again and promised to find me a ride. Their knowing that I was traveling without much money made the whole corrupt situation even more absurd. In the end, I got another ride because the officers pressured a bus driver, who then took me to Barquisimeto for free.
My conclusion from this episode: The general situation in Venezuela in 2026 is quite safe overall. However, the real thieves seem to be the police officers and military personnel. When approaching officials directly as a hitchhiker, there were admittedly no problems. But being stopped in a car or bus is exhausting in the long run. It no longer surprises me why the travel time from Maracaibo to Caracas is given as somewhere between 10 and 18 hours.
Late in the evening, I finally made it to Barquisimeto, meaning I had covered half the distance by hitchhiking. At the bus station, drivers were already preparing to leave for the capital overnight. So I gave in, bought a ticket for 15 USD, and traveled until the morning. Around 5 a.m. I arrived in Caracas, roughly 20 hours after I had reached the toll station in Maracaibo.
Conclusion of my Hitchhiking Trip to Caracas
Despite the difficulties, hitchhiking in general worked. However, there are 5 points I would keep in mind:
- When dealing with the military, make it clear that you are not only looking for direct rides to your final destination
- Do not take old, run-down (suspicious) cars
- Bring a sign (it really makes a difference because it is unusual)
- Do not give in to corrupt officials and do not pay bribes (unless there are real accusations)
- Plan shorter distances, as delays are normal due to long checkpoints
Other Experiences Hitchhiking in Venezuela
My trip from Maracaibo to Caracas is, of course, just one perspective and one experience. Other travelers had a smoother journey, such as an Italian female hitchhiker I met earlier in Maracaibo. She managed to get to Mérida very quickly with the help of the military. It might make a big difference being a woman when approaching officials and asking for help. She also spoke Spanish significantly better than I, which can also be a disadvantage; speaking a bit broken can at least avoid any suspicion of journalism.
She still had her luggage searched quite thoroughly, almost as intensively as mine, including all her books being checked. This happened right after entering Venezuela, where, on the route from Colombia to Caracas, drug controls are said to be particularly strict. Not necessarily to fight narco trafficking, but rather to collect bribes.
Under these circumstances, it is quite surprising that the U.S. allegedly abducted Nicolás Maduro in January 2026 on suspicion that he is the main drug trafficker to North America, while there are such strict anti-drug controls on the streets. It must be an irony of fate.
