Salar de Uyuni - Tour of the Bolivian Salt Flats

Hola Chicos,

Our first stop on our 3-day adventure to the Bolivian salt flats was the Bolivian border control. Possibly one of the most amateur and pointless procedures we have gone through. Ben's Spanish was put to the test when he was confronted as to why his passport stated he is from the UK, when he had written on his immigration form that he lived in England. After a diagram and vigorous gesticulations the light dawned on the immigration officer. By the time Ed and Tom arrived to have their passports checked, the officer seemed scholarly in his differentiation between the United Kingdom, Great Britain, Northern Ireland and their constituent parts. We were slightly anxious about the quantity of coca (a bitter leaf chewed to increase alertness, reduce hunger and altitude sickness, cold and pain) we were transporting over the border. Not to worry, our bags weren't even checked. Passport control wasn't even compulsory, just loosely suggested. Welcome to Bolivia!

The company with which we had booked our tour was conspicuous through its absence. We found ourselves surrounded by several attractive señoritas and decided that the tour they were on was probably the best one for us. How right we were. With an unsuspecting Swiss girl we were bundled into a jeep with our Bolivian driver, Filemon. Unbeknownst to them a juggernaut of English humour was heading their way. For the next three days we were transported through desert, salt and ice in a battered Toyota 4x4.

Our 4x4

Our first port of call was the inexplicably named Laguna Verde. As some linguists may be aware, verde means green. Contrary to its label, the lake possessed a rather sickly looking brown colour. Perhaps Laguna Marrón would have been a more apt title. This laguna was also our first experience of doing exercise at altitude. After a 20 metre climb we were left clutching at oxygen molecules.

The surreal environment we were surrounded had led the next desert we drove through to be christened the Salvador Dali Desert. One could imagine the melted clocks. This was the first occasion of many we realised the importance of our driver. We were truly lost in "the ethereal haze, and we really got a sense of the awesome power of nature" (we are profoundly sorry but simply could not resist), with one grain of sand resembling every other.

Salvador Dali Desert

After our disappointment at the thermal baths and geysers in Chile (see 'Deep in the Desert' entry) we were pleasantly surprised by their Bolivian counterparts. We were given half an hour to bathe in the 38 degree baths. We loved every minute of it, especially with the panoramic views we gained of lakes, volcanoes and baby-blue sky. We were reluctant to leave the warmth of the waters - it wasn't only the pool that was smoking hot... The geysers we then visited possessed an astounding violence and power which had been critically lacking in Chile.

Aguas Termales

Visiting the sulphur-steam-spitting-geysers took our breath away, yet no way near as much as our ascent to 5000m. For those of you who have never been higher than Ben Nevis, 5000m is the equivalent of: 125,000 Olympic issue ping-pong balls, 1,026.69 male giraffes, 6 Burj Khalifas or one 5,000m Olympic running race (competed vertically, Mo Farah eat your heart out).

Over lunch we got to know the rest of our tour group a little better. Two Swedes, two Dutch, one Swiss, all female. Ben was a little too preoccupied with the tricolore salad to notice the rest of the group. After our filling lunch we called in on Laguna Colorada, a crimson lake spanning 60km². Unfortunately by this stage we were waning as the altitude began to take its toll. Two of our lady friends were severely affected by altitude sickness, leading to hallucinations and multiple bathroom breaks.

Laguna Colorada

We woke up the next morning having experienced a truly frigid night. We asked Filemon what the temperature in our rooms had been. He answered '2 degrees', which struck as positively tropical. It was only when we asked what the outside temperature had been ('12 degrees' ??) that it dawned on us. Night-time temperatures in the desert are always below zero. Bolivians need not waste their breath by uttering the words 'minus' or 'negative'. Freezing temperatures are a given.

We began the second day at the Arbol de Piedras, a random assortment of gigantic rocks which looked lost in the wide expanse of the Desierto Siloli. There is one fascinating rock formation which looks similar to a tree - maybe after copious amounts of coca leaves.

The Tree Rock

We had a fantastic time clambering up the 30-foot high rocks. Then Tom and Ben made the unwise decision of jumping from a 3 metre high monolith onto the solid sand below. Tom went first and after almost smashing his face into a rock, Ben foolishly followed. He was not so fortunate and ended up spraining his left ankle. Two weeks on and he is still struggling to walk.

3 metre high monolith

The rest of the day was spent flamingo hunting. After visiting 4 lagunas with a fecundity of flamingos, we have probably seen enough to last us a lifetime.

Today was also the day that the rest of our 4x4 experienced our magical voices. After a 3 hour concert, during which Ben's iPod was exhausted of all possible karaoke tracks, it was ruled by Filemon that the favourites were the 'drum one' (In the Air Tonight - Phil Collins) and the 'Hispanic one' - (Hips Don't Lie Shakira). Tired out by our physical routine to 'In the Air Tonight' we headed off for an early night in a hotel built out of salt blocks in anticipation of our visit to the salt flats at sunrise.

The sunrise was enchanting. The salt flats looked blue against the orange and yellow sky which was laced with wispy clouds. The white salt feels and looks like ice, spreading out as far as the eye can see in every direction. This was definitely the most striking thing we have seen this trip. We were now standing somewhere in the middle of 12,000km² of the white expanse, nobody could be seen for miles around.

 

For our well-earned breakfast we headed off to Isla Incahuasi. The salt flats had originally been a huge sea, when the sea had dried up only the salt was left. The traditional story behind the salt is that it is the breast milk of one of the mountains surrounding the flats. We're not sure we totally buy that one. Isla Incahuasi is an island of dead coral from when it was covered in water, which is now overgrown with cacti. The island looked so out of place in the totally flat landscape of the salt. I think we all suffered a couple of stabs from the spines and we can confirm that they really do hurt.

View from Isla Incahuasi

While we made our way to the centre of the salt flats we asked whether we were able to drive the car. After being told by Filemon to keep it a secret, we all had a go at driving the 4x4 across the salt flats. All went smoothly, and Tom even managed to get the car into second gear (Tom is yet to take his Practical. Or, for that matter, his Theory). Thankfully there was nothing for him to crash into. It is quite a bizarre experience standing on the salt flats, with nothing around but the white ground and the brilliant blue sky. At the centre of the flats we took loads of photos to take advantage of the false perspective we could get as everything looked exactly the same for miles around. Some of our attempts are below.

We waved goodbye to the salt flats and made for our last stop on the tour - a deserted train cemetery in the outskirts of Uyuni. It had an eerie and morbid feel to it, which left us feeling a little uncomfortable. Ed, on the other hand, felt very at home. He loves powerful vehicles.

The past three days have been an unbelievable experience. From the Desert to the Salt Flats, via lagunas, geysers and cacti. Decent way to spend the weekend.