Salt, singing and sickness on the Salar de Uyuni
Trip Start
Feb 22, 2007
1
17
25
Trip End
Oct 05, 2007
Uyuni, Bolivia
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Our group for this little three day jaunt was composed (with only one exception) of people we had already met along the way (rather like Kingston, this continent appears to yield NO new people!). With big sis Emily; Fay, the awesome Irish nurse and fellow survivor of car dramas in Bariloche and Villaricca; and Ian, our outdoorsy Canadian and friend since BA we wondered what could go wrong.... quite a lot as it turned out! We were joined by David an accountant (but don't hold that against him) from Essex (don't hold that against him either!) we had met in Santiago and Greg, a somewhat eccentric middle aged Aussie. On day one we got our first taste of Bolivia with a border crossing scattered with burnt out vehicles and inhabited by three legged dogs, 'nuff said!
As we climbed to 5000 meters the neurotic medical student gasping for breath and frantically taking her pulse found it racing at 130 bpm, and the somewhat less neurotic nurse suggested perhaps this could be the result of drinking beer in a hot spring at 11am. We were dazzled by emerald green lakes, bubbling geezers, coral coloured flamingos and tassel adorned llamas frolicking in pink lakes and the fecking freezing wind that battered us everytime we ventured from the (relative) comfort of our 4x4. We passed the long periods of driving singing along to cracking music selections, and giggling over the 'three song shuffle of shame' (a source of anxiety of the girl who has Kylie and Jason not to mention Enya - ENYA??!!! Why???! - on her ipod).
That night we stayed in what can be described as a 'refuge' in the loosest sense, at 4300 meters, in the middle of the desert, with nighttime lows of -10 degrees. We wore every item of clothing we owned, huddled together like penguins, wrapped in blankets playing cards and drinking red wine and coco leaf tea in a vain attempt to remain warm and stave of altitude sickness. I have never been so cold in my life and we got up the next morning having failed to sleep for more than 15 minutes to find a thick pane of ice on the INSIDE of the windows, all sniffling, sneezing and shivering -well and truly struck down by some hideous fluey lurgy. The mumbles, grumbles, stumbles and fumbles pathonmonic of hypothermia were very much in evidence, but a few good tunes and some more breath taking (literally!) scenery raised our spirits slightly.
Our last reserves of cheeriness were desperately needed when two hours into the days drive a large piece of rather important looking metal dropped off the bottom of our jeep with a thud! As our driver scratched his head and muttered in Spanish I entertained everyone by breathlessly ascending a hill and wandering around trying to find a suitably large rock behind which to have a pee, only to finally drop my kecks just as another full jeep went soring by!! Ian (who has shared two flat tyre experiences with me by now) was about to refuse to come near wheeled vehicles with me ever again, when our driver assured us that all was well and we could continue to our lunch point without repairing the car... at least we think that is what he said...
The second night was passed in a marginally warmer hotel built entirely of, what else, salt. The next day as we rose for sunrise, Fay and I discovered why one should not take ones anti-malarials on an empty stomach, especially not at this sort of altitude... with 'flu. So now, we added to our general snottiness by having to stop the bus every few minutes so one of us could leave our regurgitated strepsil coloured mark on the pristine white of the salt flats. Despite all this, the view from the top the fisherman's island, gazing out at the seemingly never ending expanse of glowing white salt illuminated in blue, lilac, crimson and gold - STUNNING!
We then engaged in the cliche comedy perspective shots on th salt, but I will let the pictures speak for themselves on that. Then it was onward to see the wrecks of the British trains abandoned outside Uyuni, and gain our first taste of Bolivia proper. Well... we say that, in our ailing state we took the pussy's option and checked into the Lonely Planet 'Splurge!' choice, at $7USD each a night for private rooms, hot showers and a pizza restaurant next door, it was a no-brainer. Despite this relative luxury, we were all had a sense of change after Argentina and Chile, Bolivia is the 5th largest recipient of foreign aid in the world. It's poor but utterly charming. And it has no loo roll, anywhere! But more on Bolivia to follow......
