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Published: August 2nd 2006
Ian star watching
When the sun goes down it hits minus 10, and it´s surprising how quickly it approaches this after sunset - especialy when you´re several miles from the town with no warm gear.So we're back in Salta where we had been nearly two weeks previously. Our reason for coming north was 7 metres of snow on the central road to Chile. At the bus station in Salta (1400km north) they inform us that the bus to Chile is full until Sunday, this being Tuesday the 25th of July. Having spent a week in the city and surroundings we decided that waiting was not an option. Instead Chile had had it and caught the midnight bus from Salta to the Bolivian boarder. 6 hours later (This increasingly seems a small amount of time to be stuck on a bus) we were thrown off the bus into a street - the procedure being to walk over the border and catch another bus. With no sign of the border in sight we stood around for several minutes trying to work out where to go and wandering how to ask people for directions. We finally got some bearings and stumbled through the freezing cold to the crossing where we collected our exit stamp and made our way across a bridge to the Bolivian side of the boarder.
Inside passport control (i.e a hut with one man
and his stamp) we managed (Somehow) to find ourselves at the front of an ever growing que and got through the boarder reatively quickly. After managing to book a train to Uyuni we realised we had the whole day in this small boarder town without much to it. Having become past masters at small towns without much to them we cracked out the chess and passed the time in a cafe for six or so hours with another English pair also going on the train.
It was up to the same standard as most British trains; so not great, but without the hugh cost of that British trains charge. The trip was slow and uncomfortable; so nothing new. We arrived in Uyuni (3800m high) at close to midnight with the throng of other tourists all occupied with one pursuit, finding a place to sleep. We eventually managed, thanks to the guidance of Hector a wandering Argentine and a gaggle of teenage girls, to find a very basic hostel; just two beds in a room with no heating, no hot water, and no plumbing. For the price of 20 bols (1pound 50p) a night we couldnt really complain.
There´s
only one reason to come to Uyuni and that is to do a tour of the salf flats and surrounding southern Altiplato. This meant that the town comprises of tourists (40 000 a year) wandering from tour company to tour campany (There are 67) trying to find the best deal. After going to two different ones we got bored, so just booked. Of course we had cheaked them out in the rankings at the Tourist information office first - at times like this I worry I´m turning into my parents. After all this, anyone who happened to be headng through Uyuni could do a lot worse than Expodisions Expressa.
We spent the rest of the day in the tourist information office trying to gain valuble information on what's hot in Bolivia. The tourist information place was excellent and the employes (Namely Roberto) who seemed only to eager to help you plan your trip. Due to the tour starting the next morning we hit the sack, almost literally.
A nights sleep and pancake breakfast later we found our tour group and loaded up the jeep; a toyota which they all seem to be. We were traveling with four other
people: Ray and Jose a lovely retired couple from Wigan who were traveling around South America for four and a half months. Evette and Angela two girls from Holand who were also very pleasant and, fortunately considering the state of our Dutch skills, spoke excellent English. The Jeep also included a driver/guide and a cook who bought her young child along as a mascot/musical alternative when the roads were bumpy. The roads were always bumpy. (In honesty he spent most of the time asleep).
The first stop on the tour is a small village on the edge of the Salt falts which processes most of the salt thast is mined, they also make some curious statues out of salt which you can see people carving. All around the village are huge piles of salt that are regularly scraped out to break the it up and allow it to dry further. Driving onto the salt flats was a strange experience, you could just see white streaching of into the horizon where it was hihlighted by a ring a vast snowcapped mountains. I didnt realise how far you could see until our guide pionted out a partiular mountain and said it
Strength and balance.
Obviously harder for me than it was for Ian. was around 260 km away. The Salar De Uyuni is over 12000 sq km which is just under a 20th the size of the UK - and it sits at 3653 meters above sea level.
After a short stop at some of the mines we headed to a hotel on the flats made entirely from salt. We had a quick peek inside and a wander around the outside (They were charging to go in). We found a small hole that was cut cleanly throught the ice into the lake below, the water obviosly filled the hole and you could see that the salt wasnt that thick. We later learned it was around 2 meters but in some places was alot thiner and you could just fall through.
Had lunch at the Isla de los Pescadores (Island of the Fish) which is covered in hugh cacti. Walking up the Island was hard work due to the altitude but the view from the top was stunning. Wandering off the trail we came across 12 meter tall cacti and a small Rabit type creature with a squirrel tail, like a Chinchila. Our cook managed to russtle up some good Lama steaks which
The Salt flats.
Mirage on the horizon we ate well and after some perspective photos pilled back into the jeep.
We then drove for nearly an hour to get off the salt flats and onto ground propper and from there to the Cave of the Devil which is a small cave in an unasuming hill surrounded by petrified cactus. The first cave had very unusual limestone formations that looked like a spiders webs hanging down all around us. The cave next to it was a little more conventional in its formation, but had tens of burial chambers that were used by pre inca peoples that lived there. On the side were piled up what had been excavated from the tomb, but unluckily for 21st century tourists (But lucky for the Spanish who looted them) most had been taken by conquistadors. On toward our domicile for the night - a small adobe hut with no heating which you could feel as the tempretures headed towards the -10 mark and beyond. After another great meal Dave taught us Russian Rummy, which we played in our sleeping bags before surrendering ourselves to the land of nod.
- Ian
6:30 up, romantic breakfast by candlight and we were on
An odd cave.
Only found in 2001 the road for 7. Our initial brief was that we´d be covering 240km during the day, which soon turned even worse when we discovered that after flying over the salt flats the day before the road was somewhat less than a road and our progress would, when the going was good, be a rather uncomfortable 10mph. The day largely consisted of visiting different lakes, which all had something slightly special. The first was famous for it Flamingos, and well, we saw some flamingos. Unfortuately Ian and I had problems appreciating this as the bumpy road had upset our bowels; consiquently the stop was occupied by the search for a man made toilet, and when this proved expensive, the search for natures' toilet. The Dutch girls had been less thorough and more fussy in their search and so after another unscheduled stop at natures´ toilet we made it to Lake Colarado. Something odd in the water has turned it Red. Which along with the odd backround colours (Every so often Salt would emerge again sending everything white, where there were occasional springs there would be bursts of green, most of the land was sandy (Yellow) or rocky (Red) and the mountains
were mostly grey with snow on the peaks) - made for a most surreal landscape. There were Flamingos here too. Lake Verde was, as those versed in Spanish (And French?) will have guessed, was green. Dominated by a still smoking volcano which stradles the border with Chile, it meant we had for the third time come within 15 miles of the country we were unable to get into. No Flamingos this time. Verde was the next day - I just wanted it in my lakes section.
The rest of day two was occupied by some more odd rock formations thrown out by the surrounding volcanos and the rise of the Andes, another excellent lunch and dinner from our hosts. Ian, outragiously through sitting to my right and buying every card I needed, managed to beat me at Russian Rummy. Ray was just behind me and all the girls were several hundred points behind him. They equalized however in a game of Uno, in which the chaps became so busy messing each others hands up that Jose beat us all.
Day three on the flats started at the even more unreasonable 5:30 which got us to the Geysers for
Flamingos
And ice. Dormant volcano in the backround. sunrise. Still freezing we moved on to some hot springs, which at first only Ian and I were only foolhardly enough to strip down for. We´d both forgotten swiming costumes so underwear it was, and (As those who have been following will remember from the Salta entry) I have no towel, though was lent something resembling a flannel by Evette. Ray soon joined us and I decided the springs would feel even hotter if I ran into the litteraly icy water in the lake about 20 metres away. Ian joined me for the second Ice challenge and all three of us completed a third - Ian and I feeling it was our duty to let Ray to fully appreciate the heat of the pool. From there was pretty much the all day drive back to Uyuni, with a break for lunch, and occupied by all the classic travel games at which Angela and Evette seemed at something of a disadvantage, not being aware of all of the "real" words Ian repeatedly deployed in eye spy. Back in Uyuni Ray and Jode kindly brought us all drinks, we gorged ourselves on pizza and went our seperate ways, for La Paz, the
police station (Ray and Jode had had a bag stolen) and for Ian and I proper hotel and our first hot shower in about 5 days.
The next day was occupied by more hot showers, (until we emptied the hotels' supply) and admin before boarding the local bus for Potosi. The word local is important since it distinguishes the bus from the tourist variety. 10 hours of a 6 hour journey later we rejected all offers of taxi drivers to take us to our hotel, before getting thoroughly lost and catching a taxi to the wrong hotel. Finaly finding one we hadn´t booked into but which had reserved a place for us anyway we passed out and didn´t emerge until midday the morning after (1 August).
Message for Tanya Worsley - I wrote out the rules of Russian rummy but your message didn't have a valid email address - if you resend it I'll email the rules. Best. David.
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David's Dad
non-member comment
Small or smelly?
That hut you stayed in after the salt flats - where you played Rummy - was it small or smelly? Or both? Much enjoying the tales of your escapades and the photos as well. Keep up the good work. Dad