Salar de Uyuni

After several days in La Paz I decided it was time to move on… sadly, this was easier said than done. Once again the country was up in arms and there were massive strikes blocking nearly every road leading out of the capital city. My friend, Berenice, and I spent the better part of the next several days running back and forth between various travel agencies, bus companies and hostels looking for developments in the strikers situation as well as a potential way out of the city. Eventually, we just booked a bus and prayed that the rumored alternative route to Uyuni would actually come to pass and we would be able to leave. Uyuni a small town in the southwest of Bolivia that is the last civilized stop before the Salar, the worlds largest salt flats (greater than 4,000 sq miles).

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salar_de_Uyuni

Our positive thoughts paid off and last minute we were told that our bus would leave that night would probable be the only night in the next week or so that the secondary route would be open. Berenice and I jumped on it! Soon enough we were bumping along another unpaved and heavily rutted road in Bolivia. We had chosen to go with a ¨tourist bus,¨which was said to provide comforts such as hot dinner, warm blankets and a climate controlled cabin. Too bad they forgot to mention that the temperature was to be controlled at a balmy 32 degrees Fahrenheit. So, once again I had the opportunity to sleep next to a bus window with a thick layer of frost on the inside. Thrilling, as you know how much I thoroughly enjoy the cold… Bright and early, we rolled into the lackluster, brown, little hole of a town, Uyuni. I made friends with a few other travelers and we quickly set off to book our excursion to the Salar. Somehow I was elected to be head communicator and negotiator because I possessed what appeared to be the best Spanish skills of the group. Said ¨skills¨ were somehow mistaken my keen aptitude for miming and piecing together bits of Spanish and a falsified self confidence that those with whom I was speaking actually understood me. Regardless, I got the job done and we went with a sly tour operator who appeared to be about a half-step more honest than the rest. Prior to paying anything I confirmed in both Spanish as well as English that there would be no more than the members of our group plus our driver in our vehicle and that adequate vegetarian food would be provided each day. Happy to have all of our demands met, we went to eat lunch and find a place to stay for the night. At half nine the next morning we met the tour operator so we could set off on our journey. I really shouldn´t have been terribly surprised when we arrived and there was another man waiting to jump in our 4runner. This, of course, was arranged by our tour operator… I lost it and nearly ripped off his head… now, please keep in mind that I had just spent another night freezing in a hotel with walls that were probably made of cardboard; the insane cold and incredible altitude were really starting to get to me… Unfortunately, all my piss and vinegar wasn´t enough to get the man to stick to his word. So after a few final scathing looks shot in his direction, I pasted a smile on my face and warmly welcomed our new group member, Alex from Spain, into our truck. He quickly assimilated with our group that now consisted of 6 members, Roald from the Netherlands, Sarah from England, Elisha and Ursula from Ireland and of course Alex and myself. Within a few short minutes we were all very grateful for Alex´s presence not only for his charming attitude but also for his Spanish speaking abilities. Phew the pressure to be the sole communicator with our Spanish speaking driver was now shifted… My miming abilities would be shelved for another day. The drive was incredible, the great white plane of the salt flats appeared to stretch to the end of the earth. Beautiful. This backdrop was not only lovely but also provided ample opportunity to pose for cheesy, trick photography photos (see previous post for the hundreds of pics we took with this backdrop). We stopped for lunch at Fish Island, a literal island in the sea of salt that is nearly covered in cactus.
The journey across the flats was really quite enjoyable aside from the music selection provided by our driver. Apparently, he didn´t get the message that the Backstreet Boys are kind of the opposite of cool… either that or he was confused and thought that he was toting around a group of 13 year old American girls in the late 90s. What made this situation even more enjoyable was the fact that he kept that one CD on repeat for the full three-day adventure. Our first night was spent in a salt hotel, actually just a freezing cold, tiny home made of salt bricks, a cool concept but one better left for observation than tested. We played cards for hours in an attempt to entertain ourselves before dinner, which was of course, a meat-fest. Oops they forgot that I was vegetarian, again… Solution? Surprise; a fried egg and potatoes. Yum. Not. That night we expected insane cold because of elevation so we donned nearly every layer of clothing available then the ladies and I pushed our beds together in hopes of conserving body heat… Success! We were warm and toasty all night!

Day two was full of even more incredible sights, pink flamingos, coloured lakes, amazing rock formations... and then we continued up and up and up! This night was INSANELY cold because we were at such a high elevation (every time someone describes the Salar they will tell you how incredible the salt flats are, the lakes, the birds and how they have never been so cold in their lives!). I was wearing so many layers of tights I had a hard time sitting down. Once again they ¨forgot¨to make veg food for me and came out with a plate of hot dogs, eggs and onions. Wow imagine how tempting that looked... it was really hard to turn that plate away...

Day three was ridiculous. Our 5 AM wake up call came far too early and despite the fact that the jeep had been on and running for quite some time the inside was about what I would expect to feel if I took my clothes off and ran around the north pole. Ohh how I love the cold... lies... all lies... We stopped someplace that looked like Mars to take a few fotos of the geysers then a few hours later we arrived to the hot springs where we would be having breakfast. I guess if I were insane I would have taken off all those layers of clothes that I had worked so hard to warm, donned a bathing suit and jumped in the hot springs but here is the thing, I am not crazy and I know that even though that hot water probably feels really good while you are in it, you will eventually have to get out and then your soggy, nearly naked body will be exposed to the elements and you will be much worse for the wear... I mean honestly, that is nuts! I watched a guy climb out and in the time it took him to layer up ice had formed in his hair! Ummm no thank you.

So, remember the aforementioned strikes that had closed down several roads leading away from La Paz? Well, three days later things had apparently gotten worse and now we were hearing rumors that after we returned to Uyuni we would not be able to get out of the town because not only was the train stopped indefinitely but now all roads leading to Argentina had been blocked as well. Oh for the love! I just needed to get out of Bolivia! Normally, I would have just chilled and waited it out but I only had a few days to get to Buenos Aires where I was to meet my friend Krista from home.