Holy Salt!
We boarded a night bus bound for Uyuni listo para nuestro horah final. 7pm to 1am was ok, we slept somewhat. However, come one o´clock the lights burst on, blinding us out of our slumbers, for the bus had stopped for a bathroom break. The toilets were worse than usual…. One in particular had a sloaping ceiling that forced Jandro to pee in the upward dog position, while standing. Were talking 45 degree angle… Impressive no? Thank god for the yoga practice. Anyway, emerging victorious we hopped back on the bus, expecting more of the same smooth sailing. We were wrong…. What had been our nice road turned into a hobbling road from hell. It certainly helped that the bus lacked shocks…. We arrived at 6am to a freezing, desolate town apparently called Uyuni, our tour guide nowhere in sight. We wandered, cold and confused for some time. But then, by some miracle, an angel descended down from the heavens and offered her guidance.. ¨Esmeralda tours?¨We are found!!! By 10am we were in our jeep bound for the TRAIN GRAVEYARD, our first stop of the tour. We were joined by three European folk. One Frenchman (living in Mexico?), and two Belgians. It turned out to be quite the group. The TRAIN GRAVEYARD turned into a train playground for Jordi and his fascination with sepia photos (TRAINS!!!!). Alejandro drew, we dont know what Claire was doing. It was glorious.
On we went. The salt flats slowly emerged, like a mirage in the desert. But no, they were real! Claire could not contain herself, excited beyond all recognition, as we pulled up to the first salt mountains, measuring a breath taking 2000 mm. Jordi, the mountain man, was the first ascent. Despite the high altitude, we eventually all summited neighboring mountains, happy to be on top of the world… Delving deeper, the albus sea slowly surrounded us on all sides, as well as the other plethera of gringoes seeking the same wacky photos suitable for facebook.
As amazing and astounding as it was, it was, unfortunately, short lived, as we snapped our last photos and zoomed off into the impending desert. The back seat of the jeep (occupied by Claire and Jordi) was about 2 times worse than our previous bus ride, though this time, it would last for three days straight. Our stomachs felt it. We ended the day running with llamas, and taking llama pictures, and doing llama things. Jordi deftly avoided being spit upon, and resisted the urge to take revenge. Then we fell asleep. It was cold.
DAY 2!!!!! It was cold, it was windy, we saw lots of strange colored lagunas, a 7 colored mountain, and some flamingoes? Questionable….
DAY 3!!! Did not go as planned. We woke up at 5:00am, as we were told, only to find our guide and our jeep MIA. No problem? BIG PROBLEM. 7:00am, still no signs. WTF? We found small comfort in the fact that another group had lost their guide as well. How curious. Then, emerging out of the rising sun, a trail of dust. We are saved! Our rescuers have arrived! Our heroes! They parked, and stumbled out of the car, and headed straight for the bathrooms without a word¨(one of them may have peed his pants). The ones foolish enough to face our questions were like meat on a rotisary, grilled by questions. Glassy eyed, a little unstable, smelling curiously of beer and coca leaves, they gave us their excuse and rolled out a flat tire out of the back seat. We didnt buy it. Our guide offered us a rather astounding deal, he would give us our money back, cancelling our tour, leaving us to die a cold death in the middle of the desert. Or continue on, happy, and not tell the tour agency. We were in a bit of a pickle. He wouldnt let anyone else drive, so we made the only decision we could, and let him drive with all of us watching him like hawks. Our concerns ran wild, missing our bus, missing our plane home, and also just dying a cold death. To all of our surprise, he drove surprisingly well, drifting on snow patches, and dodging geizers. We eventually arrived at our breakfast spot, dropping off the Belgians who were escaping to Chile, leaving us with just the Frenchman, and Franz, our tipsy driver. With the luck of Azlan (ask Claire) on our side, we made it back to Uyuni in one piece with plenty of time to spare. We grabbed some eats, watched Final Destination, and boarded the bus, looking forward to our road of death back to La Paz. As before, we were woke at 1:00am, and after that, we were smooth sailing once again……… Alejandro enjoyed the ride immensly, sleeping with an Australian girl…… to his left. He didnt even say goodbye…
And that takes us to today, a free day in La Paz. We bought some stuff, ate some stuff, and enjoyed some hot showers, except for Claire, who demanded being first, and suffered the cold consequences.
And now we look ahead, the flight, arriving home, remembering it all. As Amanda said, the challenge starts here, upon our return, travelling was the easy part. What a long, strange journey it has been.
Gobble gobble bitch.
Over and out,
your faithful bloggers,
your faithful bloggers,
Claire, Alejandro, y Jordi.
-Long live SAM 2010-
