A Taste For Salt

Now that I was starting the final leg of my adventures in South America, I resolved to try and spend more time with locals rather than international travellers. This was mainly a desperate bid to get my Spanish back up to scratch but also because I wanted to get a better insight into the culture rather than just reading it in my book. Whatever the motive, I certainly picked the right month for this resolution as, being the summer holidays here, the whole population of Argentina seemed to be on the road. The downside of this was that it was much harder than I anticipated to leave BA as all the buses were booked up for days. Luckily one entrepreneurial company laid on 'overspill' buses so I could leave but definitely not in the style I had become accustomed to: not a glass of champagne in sight! And the toothless Bolivian granny who was my companion for 20 hours was much less entertaining than either Fiona or Alistair, although she was marginally better than both of them at helping me with the crossword ;)

My destination was Salta in the north of Argentina, quite close to the border with Bolivia. After the largely European feel of BA there was a tangible shift in both the ethnicity of the people and the underdevelopment of the infrastructure. I stayed in a great hostel which laid on BBQs and boozy dinners every night so it was very easy to meet people and I soon hooked up with Romina and Laura, two Porteños travelling solo. The next few days were filled with tours of rocky gorges and unusual rock formations, vineyard visits, bike riding and I even went horse riding of my own volition! Even without Meg or Fiona to twist my arm I decided that I couldn't leave Argentina without pretending to be a gaucho for at least an afternoon. Plus I wanted to be out in this glorious scenery rather than viewing it from a minibus. And I really loved it! I never thought I'd be saying that about horse riding, especially after the hair-rasing experiences in Ecuador. But I had a great horse, a genuine gaucho guide and was accompanied by four English lads who were so clueless they made me look like a professional! We had a brilliant three hour ride through tobacco plantations and lush verdant hills which was followed by a fantastic asado (BBQ). The guides then sang and played guitar whilst we drank lots of wine. A perfect day out!

My next plan was to head further north towards Bolivia and I was pleased when Romina decided to come with me. The landscape en route was a long succession of gorges, canyons and gullies (there is a difference, honestly, the guide explained it to me!) with picturesque villages and artisan markets nestling at the foot of multi-coloured hills. We were at roughly the same latitude as the Atacama desert over the Chilean border and the sun was scorching to prove it. This arid landscape was full of very impressive cacti, including some about three times the size of me. I wasn't quite prepared for how cold the night would be though, and had to ask for extra blankets which seemed strange after sleeping with just a sheet and fan full on in Salta. After one night in Humahuaca we crossed the border into Bolivia via an ever- decreasing standard of public transport.

The border crossing itself was a bit of a shock as all the other ones I've passed through have been generally quite calm and tranquil. This one was manic and buzzing with activity. A never-ending line of Bolivians were scurrying back to their own country shouldering massive sacks of goods bought in Argentina. The line reminded me of the leaf cutter ants I saw in the Amazon because there was no beginning and no end to it and the loads that people, young and old, were carrying seemed totally unfeasible. It certainly made me feel very humble and I soon stopped grumbling about having to carry my rucksack five blocks.

Having crossed the border our first meal was a good indicator of things to come and of the difference in wealth between Boliva and Argentina. The interaction went something like this: Please can we see the menu?/We dont have one, what do you want to eat?/ What is there?/ Chicken Empañadas (like a pasty)./ Anything else?/ No./Ah./ What do you want to drink?/ What is there?/Coca cola./ Er....well I'll have 2 empañadas and a coke then please. Fully sated (!) we boarded a clapped-out bus bound for Tupiza. Tupiza is famous for being the last hideout of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid whilst they were on the run, before they were found and shot nearby. Fortunately we were there for a different reason, namely to start a 4 day tour of the surrounding natural reserves and the salt flats up in Uyuni.

I had heard so much about this place, from people I have met this trip and friends back home who have already visited the area, and everybody raves about it. I'd also seen lots of spectacular photos which made me want to see it for myself. With a build-up like this the reality often can't live up to expectations but I was still excited as Romina and I joined a jeep tour with four others. The tours involve an awful lot of driving, as the ground covered is vast (I think our guide said we covered 1800km in the four days) so there is a lot of time spent in the jeep inbetween getting out to visit a point of interest and snap a few photos. This, coupled with the fact that 6 in the back of a jeep makes things very cosy, meant that group dynamics were fairly important. We struck lucky with our group as they were all lovely people. There were Fabricio and Mery, an Argentine couple, and Leo and Joao, two Brazilians from Rio. We were all roughly the same age and had a similar outlook on life. Leo and Joao in particular, were fairly intellectual types and over the next few days we had many heated debates about politics, the environment, football and all manner of other things besides. This was great for my Spanish although at times I really struggled and had to resort to English, which luckily they all spoke well. Also I probably learnt more about South American politics in four days than I have done in the whole of the rest of the trip! Thankfully it wasnt all high-brow stuff as Leo was also a bit of a practical joker and we spent a lot of time in the evenings, whiling away the time in our chilly adobe huts, playing very silly card games and drinking.

Our driver and guide, Wilfer, was also brilliant so we spent a very happy four days touring this amazing landscape filled with hundreds of volcanoes and lakes. The only downside was that this time of year is rainy season. As well as making the mud tracks hard going for our 4x4 this also meant that many of the sights were different to what we were expecting. For example, the lakes are famous because the presence of numerous minerals or algae make them multi-coloured but when the sun isn't shining the colours are far more muted and less impressive. They were still full of flamingoes though which, for me, made up for the lack of colour. The upside was that at least it wasn't so cold at night; at these high altitudes in the dry season temperatures often plummet as low as -25 and since we still spent the evenings clothed in hats and scarves I can only imagine how horrendous that must be.

The highpoint for most people, and the main reason for the tour, is the visit to the Salar de Uyuni which is the largest and highest salt lake in the world. Wilfer had helped us manage our expectations from the outset of the trip because the whole salar was completely flooded so it seemed unlikely we would be able to enter it. More rain every night meant that Wilfer was proved right and we would only be able to drive about 2km onto the salar rather than drive the whole way across. By way of compensation we stayed at a hotel completely made of salt-walls, tables, beds etc really all were made of salt (I licked the walls just to make sure!) It was a very novel experience and as the central dining area was completely flooded there was no-one else there. They found three dry bedrooms for us and we were perfectly cosy. In fact I slept much better than the previous two nights (although that's not saying much!)

For the third morning in a row we had to get up at ridiculous o'clock but this time we were rewarded with a spectacular sunrise on the salar. We were so lucky to have a glorious sunny day; with the early morning light and the reflections in the layer of water the Salar looked stunning and far exceeded my expectations. It was so beautiful we all got a bit delirious (sleep deprivation probably helped) and abandoned boots and socks to go splashing around in it. It was a photographer's paradise, or at least I thought so and got very carried away taking photos of us larking about in this unusual paradise.


Exhausted and smelly (we hadn't been able to wash for three nights!) but blissfully happy we ended the tour in Uyuni. We waved a sad goodbye to Romina who had to go back to work in Buenos Aires while the rest of us lucky bunch prepared for the night bus north to Potosi.


The condensed version: Am doing my bit for Anglo-South American relations (except on the subject of Argentine football). The Salar lived up to the hype even underwater.

---

---