Into the desert

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We rose early, climbing into thick layers and pulling our bobble hats low over our ears. For the first 2km we had an additional passagener. We drove the driver who had been involved in yesterday´s accident to a place from which he might easily hitchhike to his home town. He was silent and shellshocked as he sat beside us in the back seat, his clothes ripped and stained. We noticed the fingers on his broken hand, swollen and bent at unnatural angles - no bandage or sling to support them. Tom and I felt terrible for the poor guy, and hopeless to help him. We gave him all the food we had, feeling stupid that we could do nothing more.

The day passed peacefully and the pounding in our heads finally started to relent as we adjusted to the altitude. We visited four beautiful lakes and Tom grumbled about not having a telescopìc lens and he chased flamingos (not literally of course). One of the highlights of the day was when we stopped at a collection of volcanic rocks, which, having eroded over thousands of years, now stand as an army of weird and wonderful stone formations. We spent a happy hour scrambling over the boulders, hanging from ledges and leaping between rocks. We also visited an active volcano and stopped at a little desert town named San Juan, where the handful of residents make their living farming llama.

We spent the night in a building made entirely from salt, which crunched beneath our feet and insulated the walls suprisingly well. We befriended the other residents of this bizarre salt house, and had a happy evening drinking rum, cracking jokes and playing games with an erotic pottery card deck.

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