Uyuni (Bolivian Salt Flats)
Sometimes we stumble upon something that surprises us. Awakens all our senses. Challenges us and makes us feel alive at the same time. Bolivia will do that to you.
As one of only two landlocked countries in South America, the Bolivian economy is struggling, the high altitude makes travelers sick, you've gotta worry about street crime and scams, it's cold, and Americans need to pay $160 for a visa. Many skip the country on a trip to South America. I almost did and I'm so, so glad I gave it a chance.
Day 1: Crossing the Bolivian Border
I'm told I'm going to be picked up between 7 and 8am by Lithium. I wait anxiously until someone honks at 8:05am. Latin American time. I get on the bus and the first two people I see? The two giggling idiots from last night at the market. 6 of us are going to be packed into a 4x4 together for the next 3 days so it's important we get along. There's Cindy the French student, a French couple (Frances and Delphine), and the two giggling idiots: Stuart Banksy the Brit and Mike the Canadian Paratrooper. Mike and I are insulting each other before we've even exchanged names. Good start.
We wait in a long line at the Chilean exit border in the cold. Guess we're not the only ones who want to go to Uyuni. Finally back in the bus, I'm anxious about crossing the Bolivian border. Apparently the Obama administration had a falling out with Bolivia and sometime in the past, we sent in military to stop the production of coca leaves (an important part of the Bolivian economy) so Americans aren't well liked. I can understand why.
I have a whole folder worth of paperwork I need to present. I'm waiting in the freezing cold filling out forms and I go to pay $160 for my ten year visa. They don't like my twenties. They find the tiniest wrinkles. Imperfection is not tolerated. I go out to try to find my bag and get more money. Im running around the desert and I can't find our bus or any of the people on it anywhere. I start to wonder if this is a cruel joke. I get on 2 white buses and neither are correct. Finally I see the people way out in the distance. I run over and they're all celebrating because they're waiting for me for breakfast. I quickly disappoint and tell them I have to go back with more twenties. Thank god I haven't exchanged all my dollars yet. After pleading with big puppy eyes, the border agent stamps my visa and I'm overwhelmed with relief.
I come back to high fives and a delicious breakfast from a French bakery with avocado, bread, juice, coffee, meat, cheese. I'm so happy. The most anxious part of my trip is over. We're traded to a Bolivian operator Estrella, but I half expected this to happen. We head on the road and stop at the freezing, but beautiful white and green lagoons. We stop at Polque Hot Springs for a quick dip and hot stew. Refreshed and full, we get back in the Lexus. Did I mention you have to pay every time you use the bathroom in this country? Well you do. So have coins on you at all times.
We're all becoming fast friends despite our rocky start. The geysers are the next stop at 4,900 meters (over 16,000 feet) and about 6 idiots die a year from getting too close. Stuart and I are showing definite signs of altitude sickness. I'm lethargic, lightheaded, slaphappy, giggly, and I have a heachache. We're chewing on coca leaves trying to feel better. We take the prescription altitude sickness pills I have. He makes fun of me for being American and having a pill for everything. He's right. The side effects are tingly fingers and toes and small bladders. Not ideal for a car ride. Once we go down from the mountain, we feel a bit better. We finish at Laguna Colorada with llamas and flamingos. It's a beautiful grand finale to day one.
We lose an hour with the time change and get to the hospedaje in Villa Mar at around 630 pm. We climb some rocks to watch a beautiful pink sunset in the middle of nowhere. Breathless, we come back down and have more tea with mate de coco and immediately feel better again. We're hungry and eating all the food we can find. We try to pass the time by playing Heads Up. This turns out to be hilarious with the cultural and language barriers, but it does the trick and the food comes before we know it. It's soup and vicuña (one of 4 types of llama) and rice. We're so hungry, we will eat anything. We go to bed listening to Stu's galavants in the dorm room. He dropped out of aeronautical engineering and moved to Italy, worked for a bunch of famous futbol players, then moved back to London to work for Toyota before quitting his job and coming to South America indefinitely.
Day 2: The Road to Uyuni We didn't freeze to death in the night. We wake up to tea and pancakes so I'm a happy camper. I play with my latest dog friend in the street and we hit the road. We stop at a few rock formations, Copa Del Mundo and the camel, and I'm not impressed. Then we go to the Lost City and the boys convince me to rock climb to the top. Our next stop is Laguna Mystica, our guide Fabian's second favorite stop of the tour. I understand why, we hike around and find this deep blue lagooon with red rocks on either side and swamp land.
We decide to climb the rocks. Well to be fair, we thought we had to scale the mountain in order to get around. Although I have to admit, I thought the guide might have mentioned the difficulty level first if this was the real route. We come down and realize there was a perfectly flat route on the other side. Idiots.
We lose Mike trying to find our way to lunch and find some donkeys and mountain rabbits instead. Perfectly good replacement if Mike doesn't turn up. We have lunch and finally Paratrooper Mike finds his way. After we're sufficiently stuffed on Bolivian stew, we jump back in the 4x4 to the Grand Canyon of Bolivia. More rocks and we head off for quinoa beer.
Everything in this country is made from quinoa or coca. I'm going to give it to you straight. Quinoa beer sucks. And the town we stop in is weird, but quite curious. Feels like evacuated Chernobyl. There is a set of twins wearing matching red jumpsuits swinging on the swings with a broken down train in the background. I wonder if the town only exists in order to sell quinoa beer to gringos.
After beer, we head to the Salt Hotel. We are all so freakin' excited. It's basic, but from where we've been lately, it's luxury. All the walls and poles and stools are made of salt. We even get hot showers for 10 Bolivianos and a bottle of wine with dinner. Living the high life. The French laugh at the quality of wine, but the rest of us are just happy as clams. We're all exhausted and struggle to stay awake past 8. We have to be up at 5am for the sunrise over the salt flats.
Day 3: The Salt Flats, finally 5:30AM and we're on our way to the salt flats. I'm giddy despite the early rise and how freezing it is. Cindy Lou Who and I are huddled in the back. We're racing to get to the sunrise in time. We can see the lights of dozens of other land cruisers heading the same direction. We make it just in time to see the most beautiful sunrise you can imagine. The contrast of the white salt to the sky is striking.
Eventually we get a bit peckish and head on to grab breakfast at Incahuasi. We hike the hill and it feels like we're on a cactus filled island in the middle of a white sand covered lake. We have a delicious breakfast of candy and Nescafé and play a little footie with a rock.
Eventually, we head back out to take some pictures. Stuart Banksy is our resident professional photographer and gets some great shots challenging our depth perception. We take a video of us jumping out of the cereal box and tightrope walking on a shoestring. All in high spirits, we then go see the Dakar rally with a bunch of foreign flags. Meh. Finally we head to town and I pay 10 bolivianos to pet a llama. Totally worth it. High on llamas, I buy my first souvenir, a stuffed llama. I name him Llama.
After lunch, we head to the train cemetery. It's a bunch of abandoned German and British trains painted with street art. Cindy, Banksy, and I take pictures up top and clutz here falls jumping off the train and bruises my wrist. We're all exhausted and ready for beer and sleep.
We get into town around 3 and I convince Mike and Banksy to come to La Paz with me. It's an easy sell. Uyuni is nowhere you want to stay. We get to the bus station and Stephan, our German friend we kept running into on the salt flats tour, is waiting for us. He wants to book a bus with us. And thus, the brotherhood of the 4 amigos begins.
We negotiate 100 pesos ($15) for a semi cama overnight bus. We go into town for beer, pizza, and wifi as we have 4 hours to kill. Selfishly, I convince the boys to stay at the same hostel as me in La Paz. None of us have really traveled with others on the road yet so it's funny we're all getting along so well despite spending the last 72 hours attached at the hip.
People generally like others for two reasons. We see something of ourselves. Or we see something we wish we were. I guess I see what I want to be: a true vagabond.
Disclosure: Thank you Stuart James Banks for the photos.