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South America » Bolivia » Potosí Department » Uyuni
April 15th 2006
Published: April 19th 2006
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Less than 36 hours in Bolivia and already a victim of the dreaded Bolivian Belly...hardly an auspicious sign the night before a 4 day trip around the salty lakes! Duly medicated up the next morning, we set off with our new Irish and English friends. The 6th member of our group had decided to pursue his romantic dream of life a la Butch Cassidy and went horse riding instead, but to be honest, it was probably a good thing, as it would have been a tad cramped with 6 people inside the jeep.

Day one consisted of driving through lots of dramatic scenery as we headed south west from Tupiza. There was excitement at our first views of llamas, although they proved to be rather elusive when trying to capture their comical faces on camera, complete with coloured ribbons on their ears to indicate ownership. The thought of asking one it´s name amused me immensly - ´¿Como te llama?´ - ´Me llama llama´ I blame the altitude. In fact, we all blamed the altitude for numerous things over the next few days, from the increased need to wee, to excessive snoring, loss of appetite, headaches and even self-knotting hair.




Having read reviews of other bloggers trips over the lakes, we fully expected to have at least one breakdown. Surely enough, we were plagued with slow punctures, broken pumps and other minor inconveniences. Luckily, our driver knew his stuff and there were about 4 other jeeps from Tupiza Tours on the circuit, so there was always extra help close at hand.



Didn´t fancy having to test out the effectiveness of our thermals and sleeping bags by spending a night in the jeep in the middle of nowhere. For Bolivia is empty. Really empty. The population of London in an area three times the size of Germany and very few of those 8 million live in the south west corner. We passed a few dusty pueblos that day, wondering how people could live somewhere so remote. When we reached a slightly larger, (but still tiny) place called San Pablo de Lipez, our driver decided some more serious work was required to get us to our final desination for the night. Out came the toolkit again, including a pick axe and a sort of sewing kit. Not entirely sure what they had to do to the wheel and the tyre to get us going again. Best not to think too much about it really.

Meanwhile, slowly but surely, the kids of the village crept out to investigate the new arrivals. Much staring at first, then a mini football game followed by a challenge to play them at basketball on the proper court by the school. Naturally, the kids, aged 5-11, whipped the asses of the 5 gringos. We blamed the altitude. Seriously, at 3500m above sea level, running around isn´t an option for long.

The van took about 2 hours to fix, and by the time we´d distributed our stash of chocolate around the kids and given some english lessons, their shyness of cameras had evaporated. Requests were made for pictures of the street, sky, houses and river by the village, as they geared up to being in the photos, then quickly graduated to taking photos themselves. I silently thanked my uni tutors for everything, as I got so much more out of it by being able to speak to the kids properly. Who´d have thought those lessons on imperatives would come in so handy for keeping them under control? The digital camera proved a hit, as they wanted to see pictures of the rest of their country, Sadly, having only recently arrived, I couldn´t offer much and told them I mainly had photos of Argentina, which lead to gaps of excitement, as none of them had ever been there. In fact, I imagine for most, their world hardly extended beyond their village. When we were leaving, promising to send copies of the photos to them, one girl requested to be sent pictures of ´our world´ instead, a request we´ll only too happily comply with, although it will be some months before we can. Arriving late at our accomodation, we all agreed it had been worth the delay, as that part of the trip stuck with us more than anything else.




When our driver informed us that night that we´d be departing at 5.30 the next morning, we all stared at him, waiting for laughter and him to tell us the real time. No laughter came. The next day was a long day. A very long day. We visited a ghost town just as dawn was breaking, which seemed apt. Apparently the Spaniards had come there 500 years ago with 1000 slaves, but the houses are just shells now. In our sleep and oxygen deprived states, a lot of the day passed in a haze of beautiful scenery, mountains and lakes, until around midday we reached the thermal pools. Initially univiting to look at, the news they were 32 degrees soon changed our mind. Bathing at over 4000m doesn´t get any better!



After lunch, we passed through the Salvador Dali desert, with its weird rock formations which did indeed bring to mind student poster fairs of the past. From there, a drive to Laguna Blanca (extremely white) and Laguna Verde (which was about as green as something very blue indeed, but who am I to query the name?). It looked highly tempting until we were told it was full of arsenic, suphur and other nasties. You´ve got to wonder how many people have died a nasty death in the past from not knowing the dangers within. Our trio of coloured lakes was completed on arrival at Laguna Colorada, which is a beautiful pink colour and populated by thousands of pink flamingos. The colour is caused by micro-organisms which live for about 50 mins max and the flamingos feed on them, which I presume explains thier colour too.



At over 5000m, the highest point of our trip, we also visted some geysers. The lunar landscape was impressive, as they bubbled away, but they truely stank so didn´t linger too long.

Sadly, there was a bit of a mix up with the accomodation booking that night which lead to our group being given the worst room in the worst place in town. Two of the six panes of glass were missing from the window and some cardboard and a copy of Hello! had to be fashioned into substitute windows (best use I can think of for Hello!). The communal toilets didn´t flush and the sinks weren´t even plumbed in. Bit like Glastonbury really, but even colder and without the bands. So, after another lovely meal (hats off to the cook for rustling up consistently great food in difficult circumstances), we all retired to our room, wrapped up well and huddled under the blankets to drink wine and listen to music by candlelight, bonding again over our love of certain bands and hatred of Coldplay.



Day three saw us visit the Arbol de Piedra. Our hopes of a petrified forest, full of terrified looking trees, were dashed when we realised it was literally a forest of rocks, albeit rather interesting shaped ones. Rocks were the main theme of the day, as we drove though another desert to a place where the rock formations stretched to the horizon and beyond. Ruined castles, owls, condors, lions and countless faces were spotted in the formations, but hey, it might have just been the altitude again! We also saw some vizcachas there, which are a bit like rabbits with long curly tails. Another one for the comedy animals of the world list.

After the previous long day, we were happy to finish around 4pm and take advantage of the hot showers at our accommodation. Best five Bolivianos spent so far, and it meant Luke could take his hat off again without his hair scaring the hostal owner´s small children. Strolling round the small town on Good Friday evening, we quickly realised there was little else to do other than buy some more wine and have our own party. Even the Internet Cafe was out of coffee and had no web connection that day (the kind of thing you quickly get used to in Bolivia).

Our final day had another early start, which meant we got into the jeep and promptly dozed off, being somewhat confused to wake up again at what is basically a cemetery for old steam trains outside Uyuni. It´s more interesting than it sounds, with some impressive looking trains sadly rusting away. Never figured out why they kept them there though.

From there, we headed to the actual Salar de Uyuni, which at 12000 square kilometres is the largest salt lake in the world. No worries about running out of the stuff anytime soon, despite the valient efforts of the Argentinians and a certain friend of mine back home! We visited the Salt Hotel, which is made out of large blocks of salt, as is the furniture. Not sure how comfortable the beds would be though!

Driving further out into the lake to fully appreciate the unique beauty of it, even though I knew otherwise, part of me none the less still continued to think it must be snow or ice every time I looked at it. It´s hard to equate the stuff you put on your tatties (or spuds to keep you irish ones happy) with the metre thick layer we were standing on. Our driver dug out some pieces for us to show the delicate formations of the crystals before dropping us back in Uyuni.




Luke and I were spending the night there before heading to Potosi, whilst the other three had a late bus to catch to La Paz. We all spend the afternoon battling with the Israelis for our share of the internet cafe´s slow web connections, before giving up and heading for some nice cold beers instead and sampling the delights of Minuteman Pizza.

Sadly, our eyes were bigger than our bellies, which must have shrunk on the trip. If the high altitude diet becomes the next celebrity fad, you know where you heard it first! Stuffed, but happy, we said our farewells, agreeing it had certainly been a worthwhile trip. However, I think we´ve reached scenery saturation point for now and are looking forward to spending a few days relaxing in cities instead. It´s a bit easier for the brain to process after all the dramatic vistas of the last few weeks. Off to Potosi next, which used to be the richest city in the world due to its silver mines.


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