13th - 14th September ´08
Our unforgettable bus journey from Potosi to Uyuni was our clearest reminder of why Bolivia was the poorest country in South America. As we waited in an overcrowded bus office in Potosi surrounded by indigenous folk, some of whom seemed to be carrying their entire life´s worth within 3 or 4 bagloads, we learnt that our designated bus had broken down... 2 hours later we were forced to travel with another operator where we were the only foreigners on board. But the fact that strange smelling locals were being
herded onto our cattle-carrier at an annoying pace was a mere distraction in comparison to the sweaty palms created by the cliff-winding roads... coasting through the scenic but unbarricaded valley trails, our driver confidently turned the narrow blind corners at a frightening speed. We were thankful that our worn-torn tin-can hadn´t broken down in the remote dustlands, and further relieved when we finally approached our destination. The town of Uyuni 
itself appeared to be quite run down and lacking in any character, but it boasted the largest salt plains in the world which was the only reason anyone would consider stopping there. A 3 day circuit around the salars which encompassed additional lakes and volcanoes was the norm, but we had decided to focus our attention on certain highlights in just a single day... which began the morning after another shivering night.
Our unforgettable bus journey from Potosi to Uyuni was our clearest reminder of why Bolivia was the poorest country in South America. As we waited in an overcrowded bus office in Potosi surrounded by indigenous folk, some of whom seemed to be carrying their entire life´s worth within 3 or 4 bagloads, we learnt that our designated bus had broken down... 2 hours later we were forced to travel with another operator where we were the only foreigners on board. But the fact that strange smelling locals were being
herded onto our cattle-carrier at an annoying pace was a mere distraction in comparison to the sweaty palms created by the cliff-winding roads... coasting through the scenic but unbarricaded valley trails, our driver confidently turned the narrow blind corners at a frightening speed. We were thankful that our worn-torn tin-can hadn´t broken down in the remote dustlands, and further relieved when we finally approached our destination. The town of Uyuni 
itself appeared to be quite run down and lacking in any character, but it boasted the largest salt plains in the world which was the only reason anyone would consider stopping there. A 3 day circuit around the salars which encompassed additional lakes and volcanoes was the norm, but we had decided to focus our attention on certain highlights in just a single day... which began the morning after another shivering night.We were joined by 4 other ´condiment´ explorers within our surprisingly
pristine 4x4 jeep to take us to our first stop... Colchani... a small frontier mill-village to the Salars where each day tons of salt went through a manual process of purification and packaging before being transported throughout Bolivia. After some simple demonstrations, we boarded our cruiser once more to head into the blanket 
of whiteness... at an amazing 12,000 sq km these salt plains were apparently the residual remains of 3 adjoining lakes that had dried up many years ago. As we stood watching the pick-axe labourers extracting salt on the horizon, we were continually blinded by the reflections from our 2 coloured scenery... rich blue skies and brilliant white sands. By further drowning ourselves in the salar we arrived at the illegally constructed Sal Hotel - a cold, secluded 
building made from and housing furniture of salt... the ideal surroundings for a night of undisturbed sleep under the stars. And our final stop on this well-defined circuit was the plant-filled Isla de Pescada (island of fish)... a rocky development that strangely projected out of the nothingness. Following the steep cactus-decorated (some as high 
as 3 metres) trail to the top revealed more striking views of the plains... with our final descent bringing us to a welcoming gas-fired barbecue with the rest of the group. That night, whilst back in the desolate town of Uyuni, we were refused entry into 2 internet cafes because the owners thought that we were Israeli! ...errm... we had been called many things during our travels but that was definitely a first (the Israeli´s had obviously created a name for themselves in this place)... Next stop... Tupiza.
pristine 4x4 jeep to take us to our first stop... Colchani... a small frontier mill-village to the Salars where each day tons of salt went through a manual process of purification and packaging before being transported throughout Bolivia. After some simple demonstrations, we boarded our cruiser once more to head into the blanket 
of whiteness... at an amazing 12,000 sq km these salt plains were apparently the residual remains of 3 adjoining lakes that had dried up many years ago. As we stood watching the pick-axe labourers extracting salt on the horizon, we were continually blinded by the reflections from our 2 coloured scenery... rich blue skies and brilliant white sands. By further drowning ourselves in the salar we arrived at the illegally constructed Sal Hotel - a cold, secluded 
building made from and housing furniture of salt... the ideal surroundings for a night of undisturbed sleep under the stars. And our final stop on this well-defined circuit was the plant-filled Isla de Pescada (island of fish)... a rocky development that strangely projected out of the nothingness. Following the steep cactus-decorated (some as high 
as 3 metres) trail to the top revealed more striking views of the plains... with our final descent bringing us to a welcoming gas-fired barbecue with the rest of the group. That night, whilst back in the desolate town of Uyuni, we were refused entry into 2 internet cafes because the owners thought that we were Israeli! ...errm... we had been called many things during our travels but that was definitely a first (the Israeli´s had obviously created a name for themselves in this place)... Next stop... Tupiza.
No comments:
Post a Comment