They are part of the character of the place.

The Roraima summit is in the clouds so frequently that the clouds feel like a defining feature rather than an occasional condition.

When they clear, the clarity of the air is extraordinary — the Gran Sabana stretching to the horizon in detail that the lower altitudes don’t provide, the other tepuis visible as dark shapes against the sky.

When the clouds return — which they do quickly and often — the summit becomes a world unto itself again, enclosed in gray mist, the edges of the plateau invisible, the cliffs lost in cloud, the surrounding landscape absent.

It is in these moments that the summit feels most like the “lost world” that Conan Doyle imagined — not because of dinosaurs, but because of the complete visual separation from the world below.