Crossing into Bolivia

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In Bolivia now. There was a fork in the road: one way, paved and painted and pointing towards Argentina-- the other, a wide expanse of desert with numerous tire tracks going in one somewhat general direction...Bolivia! Here, the mountains are tall, the people are short and the gap between modern and antiquated is wide. The past three days we´ve been bouncing over jagged rocks, careening across deserts and gliding over the world´s largest salt flat, Salar de Uyuni. All in a Toyota Land Cruiser circa 1986, whose mechanical woes added an extra flavor to the trip. The rear axel started popping and was fixed with a coat hanger. We found that the engine was stuffed with brush to keep the salt water from getting inside. None of the gauges worked, hence us running out of gas slash some other unknown problem in the middle of the salar.
To put into words the vast range of creation we´ve absorbed over the past week is a daunting task. Just think active volcanos, flamingos and more flamingos, lakes with currents the color of rust next to currents the color of key lime pies, the ¨starry host¨really made real, geysers gurgling sulphuric mud and blasting steam like a jet engine, hot springs (which we considered to be our only form of bathing in six days) and last but certainly not least the salt flat.
There was a two inch layer of water blanketing a 12,000 sq kilometer desert of salt. Getting up at 4:45 was well worth it as a mirror image of the rising sun filled the horizon. There was no distinction between the heavens and the Earth. We stood on the glass top of the world, seemingly walking on water, floating. In other words, see pictures.
Also to note, stayed in a hotel made entirely out of salt and ate our last lunch in a rusted out train graveyard with flies for company.
We leave for La Paz tomorrow night via train whose reputation is I think I can I think I can...
Spades: boys have 457, girls have 883

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