10th-12th September: 4WD tour through the Salar de Uyuni

After the extensive deliberations, it was time to find out whether we had chosen the right agency (we had chosen limit x-tremo).  First leg was an hour-long bus ride to the Bolivian border, climbing up (slowly) from the Atacama basin to the Andean pass to Bolivia at more than 4000m.  Here it became more interesting.  We'd been assured that our group of 13 would be split into three jeeps.  At the border we met our Bolivian jeeps and drivers: two jeeps, two drivers.  Initially it looked like our jeep would have six passengers: Clem and I, an Australian couple called Adam and Donna, and the Anglo-Aussie pair of Ben and Lilly. A bit of a squeeze in the back, but OK.  Then even more interesting: we seemed to have a small Bolivian hitchhiker also sitting in the back row.  Nor were there seatbelts in the back row or even in the middle; standard story.  Still, standing in the middle of nowhere there wasn't much point in moaning so we sucked it up and off we went.

Right decision.  We had a fantastic time.  Our driver, Abel, was friendly and experienced and more than compensated for the lack of seatbelts with his sensible driving.  Our friend in the back, Simon, was lots of fun, sorting me out with coca leaves when the altitude started pounding on my brain.  Strip the leaves, check for bugs, and stuff them inside a cheek to suck out the juice.  He explained that Abel had saved enough to buy a new jeep, so Simon would take over the (very) old jeep and was along to learn the route (as well as bouncing about taking photos on his phone).

Our first stops after crossing the border were to see the Laguna Blanca, then the Laguna Verde, with a smattering of flamingoes breaking up the reflection of volcanoes towering in the distance.

Laguna Verde

We piled back in the jeep and bounced our way across the desert to another set of geysers.  Here the vapour was accompanied by the stench of sulphur (though not as strong as you find in Rotorua).  As in El Tatio, there was nothing to stop you from wandering around (and into, if you weren't careful) the boiling pits.

Geysers, 5000m above sea level

We then drove a few more minutes to another thermal baths, significantly warmer than El Tatio in the water (like a hot bath) and much warmer outside, so drying off and getting dressed was slightly less panicked.

John enjoying the Aguas Termales

We had been gaining altitude all morning, and by now we'd reached around 5000 metres and had our first altitude casualty.  Donna had started feeling a little queasy, then noticably blanched, and finally started vomiting at the side of the road.  Nevertheless she bore it without complaint.

We stopped for lunch at the place where we'd be staying the night.  We'd been told that the accommodation would be basic, and so it was.  Not something to moan about, given its location in the middle of the altiplano.  We dropped off our bags, noticing that the plastic section of the roof promised little protection against the subzero temperatures that would follow dusk, and grabbed a surprisingly tasty lunch.  Then it was off to see the main attraction of the first day, the Laguna Colorada, a large altiplano lake dyed red by algae and occupied by hordes of flamingoes.

Laguna Colorada

After sating our cameras with pics of the pink locals (and resisting the temptations to scare them into flight to get the best action snaps) we retreated to the "compound" to watch the sun fall.  There was a tiny stove that after much encouragement the staff managed to light, and we huddled around it with another group that was travelling in the opposite direction.  Poor Donna was curled up in bed.  Dinner arrived, a warm and filling soup followed by a slightly dubious looking but tasty mix of sausage, egg, and potato.  It was then time to prepare for the ice age.  We stripped the spare beds of blankets, tucking in the six blankets to keep in all the heat we could.  We then layered up in thermals and multiple fleeces, and tucked ourselves in to await the night (as our altitude headaches increased from woodpecker to pneumatic drill).

A few hours later and I felt like I was melting.  Layer after layer came off, and eventually I settled for uncomfortably warm rather than unbearably hot.  Still, better than being cold.

The next day we left behind the compound, heading north across the altiplano towards the sourthern edge of the Salar de Uyuni.  On the way we saw the "stone tree", a volcanic rock formation shaped by wind erosion, and vast tracts of land strewn with volcanic rocks launched from an erupting crater.

Arbol de Piedra

Next was the most impressive part of the trip, at least to me, in that it conveyed most clearly how the whole altiplano had once been covered in the sea, then a huge salt lake: an immense expanse of petrified coral reef, all swaying in one direction.

Petrified corals

Lunch at a lagoon

After lunch we took a detour from the usual route, passing by the some caves that had been discovered only recently.  The caves weren't overly impressive, but a walk up the reef was enjoyable and gave a great view over the altiplano and the salt flats far in the distance.  We then arrived at our second night's hostel, consisting of a few huts built from salt blocks with thatched roofs that promised a much warmer night than before.  We dropped off our stuff, had a hot shower (bliss), and went for a walk around the village to find some beers (not a fantastic idea given the altitude, but we managed to exercise some restraint).

Hostel made with bricks of salt - Night 2

On the third morning of our trip we entered the incomparable salt flats.  We drove for an hour to the Fishermen's Island, covered in thousand year old cacti, where we had the chance to take the obligatory perspective photos (in this case using a bottle of wine left over from the previous night):

Uyuni salt flats

After a stop right in the centre of the salt flats, where even the altiplano volcanoes faded into the horizon, we continued on towards the town of Uyuni, stopping off briefly at a salt mine for an explanation of the complex process of piling up salt, drying it out, and crushing it.

We then made our way through Uyuni, where our jeep finally gave up -- apparently Abel had been trying to coast to the finishing line on fumes.  Thankfully the other group's jeep towed us 200 metres to the nearest petrol station.  If we hadn't been so close to the end it might have been less amusing.

The final stop on the tour was rather anticlimactic.  None of us were particularly impressed by the train cemetery on the outskirts of Uyuni, although this was perhaps due to the piles of partially incinerated rubbish scattered by the side of the road.

Train cemetery, just outside of Uyuni

We said goodbye to Abel and Simon at their agency HQ  in Uyuni, had a quick bite to eat at a fairly repulsive faux-mexican restaurant, and caught the bus to Potosi.  The full moon illuminated the ravines to the side of the road beautifully, but it didn't make for a peaceful 6 hours.  We finally arrived in Potosi after midnight, caught the taxi to our hostel, and collapsed in our enjoyably heated room.