May 27th, 2015
We wake up early. Too early really, but it’s cold and sleeping isn’t easy. Still we’re happy to be up knowing what awaits us, the legendary Salar de Uyuni, which finds a place on most if not all highlights of South America Lists, by the end of the day I feel pretty certain it will be on mine.
We eat a quick breakfast before saying goodbye to the salt hostel that was our home last night, and, bundled up in what limited winter gear we own we climb into the Suv and take off across the incredibly flat terrain which becomes more and more white the further we go. We race the rising sun and manage to win, pulling up to Isla Pescado in the eery pre dawn light.
The island is the only non flat ground visible, barring the mountains in the distance, and is covered in impressively huge cactuses.
Piling out of the car we hurry up the rough hewn staircase leading up the island. There’s nothing I hate more than walking uphill first thing in the morning, but with the light ever growing I make myself work hard and crest the summit of the island just in time to see the first true glimmers of sunlight peeking over the distant mountains and bathing the salt flats in light.
Posing with cactuses and wandering around the island as the light grows I snap more photos then you should take. I lose track of my own group since the place is crawling with tourists, every group on the flats here to watch the sun rise, but then I realize I don’t have any Paint me jack shots. And that’s unacceptable, luckily some friendly and mildly embarrassed australians agree to take the photos for me. The lengths I’ll go to eh?
Climbing back down to the jeep we enjoy a nice breakfast and some warm hot chocolate. Andreas is then kind enough to give us some free time.
Most of the groups are already zooming away, but we walk around the island on the salt flats playing with a bouncy ball of mine (yes i travel with stickers,bouncy balls and pokemon cards) and practicing for the different shots we might be able to do.
Sadly the salt flats are dry this time of year so we won’t have an opportunity to do the most impressive mirror shots that make this place famous. At least that’s what we thought.
We come around the far end of the island and find a sheen of a few inches of water on the slat flats covering maybe a 100 square meters or so, more than enough space to fully enjoy the incredible mirror effect this place offers in the wet season (___________).
Couple this with the fact that it’s only the six of us over here and we couldn’t have planned it better, spending the better part of an hour playing in the wet salt and trying different photos. I didn’t dare hope we’d get the best of both worlds, but we did. So lucky.
The photo’s hopefully speak for themselves,but I feel I have to say a phrase or two about this entirely unexpected joy. The mirror effect is spectacular, and I’m returned to that state of awe which makes me travel and feel like a little kid all over again.
Even though it’s about an hour later when Andreas drives up in the SUV we’re all sad to be leaving, though it does mean one thing, onto the vast open expanse of the salt flats, and onto the funny pictures and videos.
Sadly I think we overcomplicated our plans and should have been simpler in our goals photo wise because we spent a long time organizing our barbie led army of dinosaurs ridden by WWE wrestlers. Still we did come out with some good photos and a few videos (to be uploaded soon) that Im quite proud of. Especially this first one.
Andreas is patient with our shenanigans, but eventually his patience wears out and we get a last few videos and photos in on this amazing flat white ground before getting back into the car and moving along towards our next stop on the tour, the salt museum and a monument near the edge of the salt flats.
We go in briefly and pass by a pool of water dug into the salt flats, on the way out I have a truly ‘Luke Brilliant’ thought. For those that don’t know Luke Brilliant is defined as ragingly stupid. I dip my face right in and instantly feel my face catch fire as the high salt content starts to eat at my skin.
I rush to the jeep with Rob to rinse my face before we take a few photos of the monument and then move on to somewhat more lewd behaviour. There is no nudity, but if you’ve got a weak stomach I’d skip the next few pictures.
From there we pack up our toys into the car and head to a small town full of artisanal shops for tourists, framed by the mountains and full of friendly locals. We eat a tasty lunch in one of the places and then explore briefly. I end up giving a bouncy ball to a young boy wandering through the town. He seems surprised but very happy.
We also learned that the two swiss guys from our hostel in San Pedro were in a car crash in the snow, their car flipping several times. Everyone survived and after a visit to the hospital on the second day they all made it to the salt flats, but still it’s a terrifying story, though not one which should discourage anyone from visiting one of South America’s greatest wonders. Crashes are a rare occurrence.
From there there’s just one more stop before our tour’s over in Uyuni. It’s a pretty cool one though and as we pull up to the train grave yard just outside town there’s a haunted feel to the air.
We don’t have much time left having spent so much at the salt flats themselves but we climb aboard these rusted ancient giants and snap some photos as we run through the sprawling graveyard full or iron and steel.
Eventually we hurry back to the car and our driven back into Uyuni and left at the Bello tours office on one of the main roads of town. I highly recommend using them on your tour to Uyuni, just remember to negotiate the price in a thorough but friendly manner.
We leave our big bags and find a hostel for 50 bolivianos per person and settle into town. It’s mother’s day there and the celebrations are touching and full of energy. The locals, though shy at first, are incredibly welcoming once you make the effort to get to know them and I find myself sure I will enjoy Bolivia.
The next morning I’m up around 5 am to catch my 12 hour bus back to San Pedro. Sadly it doesn’t go so well. I catch the bus but find myself freezing. Then, an hour out of town the radiator breaks and for 8 hours I watch the drivers bring out a new radiator (a giant piece of equipment) and change it on the side of the road. That night we finally make it to the border and the Bolivian side lets us out but the Chilean side wont let us in. So we’re spending the night above 4000 meters with no heat and believe me when I say it’s the coldest night in my memory. I speak the most Spanish of the 15 gringos in the bus so it becomes my job to keep their spirits up, and I’ve made several friends when we finally roll up to San Pedro De Atacama, 36 hours later, tired but still ready for more adventure.
