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Published: August 22nd 2010
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After a night bus back from Rurrenabaque and a night bus to the Salt
flats me and Hollie were pretty tired although we got plenty of sleep
in both. The bus back from Rurrenabaque was a piece of cake, it was
dark by the time we got to death road so we didn't even realise we
were on it and we paid a little extra for a tourist bus to Uyuni so we
had loads of leg room and 2 meals.
The bus to Uyuni was meant to take 10 hours but we had to avoid the
road blocks so took a detour over the salt flats and took 12 hours. We
got told by Honey tours if we get there too late we will automatically
be put on the salt flat tour for the following day so we had kind of
accepted this, but when we got there they were waiting so bonus!
We got in a 4x4 with 3 other people then drove to a salt hotel and
picked up 2 girls. We stopped off at a mini Market and picked up some
food with some people buying souvenirs.
Then we all got back in the
4x4 and headed to about a square mile of
mini salt hills not sure what they were all about and our driver only
spoke Spanish so wasn't gunna find out either. After that we headed to
the main salt flat near where you pay your administration fee and
where the huge cactuses were. We took or tried to take some cool
photos but it is alot more difficult than you would think, then had
dinner made by our driver (chicken/omelette thing and rice) and headed
to another Salt Hotel.
Although the scenery was amazing I wasn't overly impressed with the
Salt Flats after the scenery got old there was nothing to do. After
the second salt hotel wasn't open we headed back to Uyuni.
When we arrived at Uyuni we found our bags and decided to find out our
possibilities for travel for the next few days seen as though the road
blocks were getting worse. Our options were; Oruro in 1 hour, Oruro
the same time tomorrow or back to La Paz in the morning. As we had
spent nearly a week in La Paz and Uyuni was a craphole we only had 1
option another nightbus in
an hour. I was pretty gutted because I was
looking forward to going down the silver mines at Potosi but every
road to Potosi was blocked so there was nothing I could do.
We headed to a bar to say bye to the two scouse girls we me on the
salt flats and went straight to the nearest pizzeria for takeaway,
Americano was on order (Pepperoni, red pepper and onion).
We ate the pizza at the bus agency with every Bolivian in sight
jealous, then got on the bus an hour after we should have gone and set
off in our 8 hour journey.
The guy in the agency said that because we were detouring over the
salt it might take abit longer but I don't think he meant the length
it took us.
THIS IS AND ALWAYS WILL BE THE WORST BUS OF MY LIFE!
Ok, to start off we were 20 minutes in and the fat, ugly, Bolivian
slob behind us opened his lungs and it was the worst snoring I have
heard in my life which meant no sleep for us. Then after an hour the
bus stopped so the 3 mechanics onboard (not a
good sign) could pump
something out of the engine and did the same after 2 hours. At about
12 midnight the bus stopped and the driver, followed by the 3
mechanics and then every man on the bus got off, so I followed with my
head torch and the bus was ball deep in the salt, totally stuck, not
shifting. After an hour of trying different solutions and trying to
explain what they were trying to do wouldn't work I gave up as most of
the bus did and got back on the bus. I unlike Hollie managed to get
some sleep until they woke us up at 6 to try one more time. The salt
flats at 6 in morning is the second coldest I have ever been after
skiing in Austria when I was 16, but pushing the bus warmed me up
slightly and got the bus out. The bus continued to break down every
hour (pumping the engine) and the Bolivian slob continued to snore
until 11am, when the bus got halfway up a hill and everyone had to get
out and meet the bus at the top. This time the mechanics were stuck
and a truck
driver whose truck couldn't pass us got his head in the
engine and got us going. We stopped less after the hill probably every
hour and a half before stopping at a little village so all the bus
could eat. Oranges, stale bread and biscuits were on the menu with the
orange seller thinking it was Christmas, 50 hungry people running
towards him.
We arrived at Oruro at 5pm with the 8 hour bus taking 21 hours and
something I would rather not think about after writing this.
Muchos love
Brown
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