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Published: January 10th 2009
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Bogged!
But we got out..........only 4 hours later! Then there was a beer or two to be had! So, off to southern Bolivia we went, continuing our high altitude life by not dropping down below 3000m or so. By now we are used to being breathless without any excitement at all!! The morning passed rather uneventfully, trucking our way through a dry, dusty landscape punctuated by the occaisional mountain peak of 5000m or more, usually snow/ice capped, all under a clear blue sky. We stopped for lunch beside a stream that we had to ford (no bridges out here!) where we learnt that if you weren´t in the sun, it was cool enough to need a jumper.....
An hour after lunch we came to a river, swollen by melt water and moving quickly to boot. A van was parked at the point where the road entered the water, so we stopped and Digga ventured into the water barefoot to see what the conditions were like. Cold, muddy, but not too deep was the conclusion.
The van decided he wanted to go before us, so with much revving of the engine he launched into the water, only to come to a stop on an island half way across - he could go no further as the fast
Ceasing to be funny
given Digga was going blue from the cold water.... flowing water had made the river exit too steep for his vehicle to manage. He settled in to wait, who knew for how long............
We were forced therefore to go around him if we were to go at all. It was xmas eve and we had a date at a Pizza restraunt in Uyuni, so we charged into the river as well. The water rushed under Carmen´s highlift body, we all cheered loudly..........and we stopped. In the river. With the water hub deep. Revving the engine dug us in deeper with no progress to show for it - now we were hub deep in the silt.
We spent the next four hours helping the crew try to dig us out, standing, kneeling or lying in the icy water as the sun slowly set. We had sand mats and spades and tried digging ramps to extricate ourselves, but to no avail. We tried lightening the truck by taking off all the luggage and the four spare wheels. No go.
More vehicles arrived at the crossing but could not proceed as the van AND carmen were sitting in the river, blocking the only way across. Some
ABBA. Again!!
What is is with that music? Bec. Clo and Jane dance on the Uyuni salt plain, Xmas day. of the vehicles were local buses, so now we had an audience watching the gringoes dig and dig and curse. Eventually. as it went dark, we were towed out under lights by a dump truck heading home for xmas, but not before we retrieved our sand mats from under Carmen and used them to stop him sinking into the mire too. A payment of $50US saw him make half is monthly wage in 15 minutes, but was considered good value by all of us muddy, wet and increasingly cold passengers for whom nightfall was the trigger for morale to begin to dip....
We reloaded the luggage, bolted on the spare wheels and headed for our late, but not forgotten date with the pizzas. Beer was discovered in the under floor storage space inside Carmen, kept cool by its immersion in the icy water. Much rejoicing. And it was strong beer at 7%. More rejoicing. Someone had xmas carols on their ipod, so the stereo was cranked up, we all had a few cans, and we sang (some of us hummed!) all the way to Uyuni for the next 2 hours. Like many good parties, it is the unplanned
Don´t touch...
not even to see whether the spines were really all that sharp. (they are!) This one island hosted 6000 or so of these less than friendly plants and as far as we could see, nothing else. ones that really take off, and so it was xmas eve - pizzas despatched in short order, showers had and clothes changed and it was off to the pub to celebrate.......... another late night.
Xmas day saw us head out to the salt flats where we saw the abandoned steam trains, boutique salt mining, a hotel made from blocks of salt and Cactus Island - an odd way to get the white xmas many of us were missing out on. On the return journey, one of the Landcruisers was T-boned by a local who was clearly not concentrating as you can see for miles on these endless white plains. The Landcruiser was knocked sideways on to two wheels, but fortunately did not rollover. No injuries worse than bruises thankfully.....
From Uyuni we continued south through the Altiplano. More high, dry and rugged scenery. Night was spent at a grim hostal where there were no washing facilities, no flushing toilets and only gender seperated bunkrooms (some blokes on the truck are Olympic grade snorers...). We left Bolivia the next day after travelling over some of the roughest roads we´d ever seen, but all made worthwhile by the
Tent. No neighbours.
Which means no snoring either, one of the downsides of communal camping. This is the end of the altiplano in southern Bolivia - beautiful, but desolate.... scenery including geysers and arsenic filled lakes.
Crossing into Chile was like rejoining the 20th century: graded gravel roads were welcomed, but soon replaced with tarmac ones, with signs and white lines and crash barriers and everything! Two hours to enter the country at San Pedro was a bit tedious, but we welcomed the campground where we put up our tents for a couple of days rest. We visited the valley of the moon, some went horse riding in the desert, many got laundry done and acquired some clean clothes for the first time in several days.
From San Pedro we made good progress south through Chile on great roads. Carmen was being piloted towards a ´secret´beachside location for New Years eve, and although it was ´bush camping´which meant no facilities, no electricity, no restraunts, the venue was sufficiently spectacular to more than compensate. A mile long white sand beach that nobody else was on was ours for the next 3 days. Tents were pitched on the sand, we´d bought wood with us for a bonfire, the crew made an evil punch (which Bec and I avoided but others felt obliged to indulge in) and a
Geysers in the desert
The usual stuff you get on volcanic sites - boiling mud, sulphuric smells, steam and sun. good time was had by all.
On New Years daya stretched out breakfast was followed by the 10 minute walk across the beach to the ocean, where we just gaxed at the sea, rehydrated, played a bit of frisbee and loafed. Injuries from the night before were reviewed and sympathised over - Clo´s many scrathes where a toilet trip in the wrong direction saw her tumble down some of the jagged rocks, Harrm´s sliced toe, sustained while rescuing Clo, Diggas graze/burns, acquired when the log spanning the bonfire he was using as a bridge from one side to the next spat him off. Hangovers widely acknowledged by all................ nothing serious then!
We left the beach for a couple of nights in a seaside campground that offered our by now favourite things - hot showers and flushing toilets. After this recuperative stop, we decamped to a national park, the principal feature of which was La Campana mountain. Although the facilities were basic (only one tap in the showers, and it was the cold one) the hike to the mountain top that took us eight hours to complete more than compensated. The toughest climb I have done, the
Where there´s steam
there´s mud. Thoughts od tossing things in to see what happened were discounted by others. Rumour has it that soap powder makes them explode, but nobody knew how long the reaction took, so we didn´t.... Safety first! last 300m a boulder-to-boulder scramble using hands as well.
Eventually we reached Santiago, a city cosmopolitan enoughto be in Europe. We left Carmen here, beginning to travel on our own for the first time in more than 2 months. Itwas quite an odd feeling to see the truck drive off without us. Two days in Valparaiso in our own company (which meant nice restraunts and afternoon naps reappeared in our daily lives) and we are just about to head to Puerto Montt and begin the Patagonian chapter of the trip with our Navimag ferry journey. It may well be three weeks before you hear from us again....................
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