Salar de Uyuni--Part III

Day Three of the Uyuni trek was my favorite day, I think. In the morning before we left Uyuni, I went to the immigration office and grudgingly paid my $135 visa fee. After the fact, I decided it was worth it, because I fell in love with Bolivia. I am definitely going back in the future. Actaully, there is a diabetic camp in Bolivia I would like to volunteer at someday soon. Anyway, the immigration officals in Uyuni were much nicer and more welcoming to me, and they called me "Amiga," which I later discovered is a distinctly Bolivian trait for dealing with gringos. Then I bought a bus ticket for later that night to La Paz because I was ready to put Uyuni behind me.

We drove back out to the Salar, and this time we were able to get out of the car and play in the field of salt. I cannot possibly describe the feeling of standing in the middle of the salt desert. It looks like you are standing on a field of snow, but it is pure salt. We all had a great time taking crazy pictures all day.

Salt scraped into piles to be taken into town to dry.

We stopped at another area to view a hotel made entirely out of salt. At this point I was in a pissy mood again for two reasons. I had watched our guide get high with some of the people on our tour, and had really reached my limit since as far as I could tell he was getting paid to party with us. He hadn't been very informative along the way, had spent a majority of his time bothering me and pressuring me to party with everyone, and had continually made assumptions about my character based on very little information, conversations, or time together. Then, to have him act so unprofessionally, I was revolted. And then, he informed us that the driver had found out that the place we were going to would not have lunch for us, only some pop to drink. I absolutely errupted. I told our guide that this had been the most fucked up tour I had ever been on, that I knew it wasn't his fault but that he had done nothing to advocate for us, and that half of the things that we had been told would be provided never materialized. He just stared at me.

Nearby the salt hotel, there was a place to put up flags from around the world. I didn't have an American flag to contribute. What cracked me up was that the Brazilians all travel with Brazilian flags, and frequently whip them out for pictures. I can't tell you how many pictures I posed for with a Brazilian flag in it! I really enjoyed their patriotism.

The flag circle.

Our next stop was my favorite place of the whole trip. It was an "island" of rock in the very middle of the salar, and it was covered with giant cacti, some as old as 1,000 years and some even older than that! Some of the cacti were over 12 meters tall! There was a trail around the island, and I got a terrible sunburn hiking it since there was no shade. It was such a bizarre and interesting place. Also, I love cacti. It was so incredible to look out over the cacti popping up all over the island and see a field of blinding white salt, and then volcanos in the distance. Unforgettable. Unforgettable.

I'm just hanging out with some cacti.

Trail-marker made out of cactus.

It looks unreal, right?

After passing a couple hours on the island, we reconveined at the edge and somehow, magically, some dry and hastily prepared chicken sandwiches appeared for lunch. However, as we sat eating, we noticed every other tour group eating steaks prepared right next to their tables by their Bolivian guides. Please, if anyone ever visits San Pedro de Atacama or Uyuni, never, ever go on a tour through Colque Tours. It was the worst, most unprofessional and poorly run outfit I have ever encountered.

It was difficult to stay super irritated amidst such stunning scenery, espeically after I had some food in my tummy. We begged the guide to take us to the very middle of the salar, where we wouldn't see any other tourists, and we spent at least half an hour fooling around with our cameras. The people in my tour group were fascinated with doing those kinds of pictures where you stand a different distances and it looks like someone is standing on your hands, or you are about to stomp on a group of tiny people. By this time, my sunburn was starting to hurt, so I mostly sat in the shade of the tour bus and stared out into the salar.

The island, as seen from a distance.

Contemplating the salar.

After a couple more minor stops to see some little geysers and the ensuing lake they created, we headed back to Uyuni. I hopped an overnight bus over 565 kilometers (180 km unpaved, btw, which made for a bumpy and sleepless ride), and by the morning, I was in La Paz!

Geysers.

A salt-harvesting truck.

Etheral.

So, my final thoughts: it was totally worth all the bullshit to see these amazing sights. I wish I had talked to other travelers and found a better company to book my tour with, but even at some of the worst moments, I knew I was lucky to be seeing what I was seeing. From the moment I arrived, I was in awe of Bolivia, and I couldn't wait to see more of it!