Salar de Uyuni
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As almost every living (traveling) soul I met in Chile and Argentina assured me that Salar de Uyuni was one of the highlights of their trip I felt kind of pressured to follow their footsteps. Not to be particularly original, but basically to not miss out.
Many people felt the same way, as both San Pedro de Atacama in Chile and Uyuni in Bolivia (beginning or end of this trip) are crammed with sunburnt curious tourists. I booked the 3-day tour as unfortunately it is utterly impossible to do this trip hitchhiking, and unless you are an excellent navigator with some swift moves of the compass, please don’t try to disappear in this desert with a rented vehicle either.
After being picked up with a bus that took us across the Bolivian border, all travelers were divided up in groups of 5 and loaded in 4-wheel-drive jeeps.
Let’s first start with the car I wasn’t in: the jeep of 3 smoking hot sunkissed Frenchies I spotted before in San Pedro. Well, merde.
My car wasn’t too bad though, as I was grouped with a 49-year-old Swiss man who just run 5 marathons in 5 days in a 35-degrees dry desert with all his camping gear loaded on his back, as well as 3 Australians. During my many travels I proofed to be a real Aussie-magnet, so this guaranteed a lot of fun.
Let’s first start with the car I wasn’t in: the jeep of 3 smoking hot sunkissed Frenchies I spotted before in San Pedro. Well, merde.
My car wasn’t too bad though, as I was grouped with a 49-year-old Swiss man who just run 5 marathons in 5 days in a 35-degrees dry desert with all his camping gear loaded on his back, as well as 3 Australians. During my many travels I proofed to be a real Aussie-magnet, so this guaranteed a lot of fun.
The landscapes I was about the witness were truly out of this world. The whole trip I felt like I was locked up in a Salvador Dalí painting.
First we headed to the Laguna Blanca, where bright pink flamenco’s colored the waterfront. My guide Juan tempered my childish enthusiasm by predicting I would be sick of flamenco’s very soon, as I was going to see thousands of them the next few days. This was true, but I couldn’t help myself but being impressed time and time again.
The white lagoon was followed by a green lagoon, after which we could relax our tensed muscles in some hot springs. Hot springs with a view I have to say. And now I’m not only talking about the almost-naked French boys that dived in as well: the landscape was as breath-taking as the boiling hot water.
After a solid lunch we then moved on to the Sol de Mañana geysers. I already saw some cloudy, squirting wet ones in Tatio in Chile, but now I could also see the muddy Bolivian version. The boiling brown mud combined with the intense rotten egg smell couldn’t prevent me from thinking I arrived at the Earth’s asshole… but impressive it was.
After we dumped our dusty bags in a basic retreat which was going to be our accommodation for that night, we drove to the Laguna Colorada, the colored lagoon. I was glad I borrowed some thermo-underwear and ski-socks from the Dutchies I met in San Pedro, as due to the high altitude this place was almost freezing my face off. Nevertheless, it was impossible to take bad pictures here, as it was… again… absolutely stunning.
Upon our return to the ‘hostel’ (at least, it had beds) I discovered there was no electricity, no hot water and no showers. But wine there was. Alright! These are my kind of people, they know how to prioritize.
Upon our return to the ‘hostel’ (at least, it had beds) I discovered there was no electricity, no hot water and no showers. But wine there was. Alright! These are my kind of people, they know how to prioritize.
The second day I was tortured by the effects of a bad night’s sleep. The wine had nothing to do with this, but the 4300m altitude and the shallow air that caused breathing-problems did. Don’t forget my whole life I lived below sea level, save behind the dikes.
After a breakfast of coca leaves I prepared for the bumpy road to Arbol de Piedra and Laguna Honda. However, they couldn’t beat the Laguna Etiunda, the stinky lagoon. This pinkish flamenco-filled wonder of nature indeed didn’t smell like Chanel no.1, but the incredible sights truly made up for that. I was so overwhelmed I that I didn’t speak for 2 hours, a new record.
I screamed though, when we saw foxes on our hot walk through the desert after our jeep got a flat tier. Maybe organized tours are not that bad, I realized when I watched 2 sweaty Chileno’s changing the tiers while I was patiently scrubbing my sun-dried legs. After a long ride through a volcanic landscape we arrived at our salt hostel at 4PM already. Yes, I said a salt hostel. The romance of walking through loose salt with my tortured, wounded feet wasn’t quite clear to me, but at least the salty walls can offer possibilities when it comes to (tequila) drinking games. I never licked so many walls in my life. Correction: I never licked walls in my life.
After a breakfast of coca leaves I prepared for the bumpy road to Arbol de Piedra and Laguna Honda. However, they couldn’t beat the Laguna Etiunda, the stinky lagoon. This pinkish flamenco-filled wonder of nature indeed didn’t smell like Chanel no.1, but the incredible sights truly made up for that. I was so overwhelmed I that I didn’t speak for 2 hours, a new record.
I screamed though, when we saw foxes on our hot walk through the desert after our jeep got a flat tier. Maybe organized tours are not that bad, I realized when I watched 2 sweaty Chileno’s changing the tiers while I was patiently scrubbing my sun-dried legs. After a long ride through a volcanic landscape we arrived at our salt hostel at 4PM already. Yes, I said a salt hostel. The romance of walking through loose salt with my tortured, wounded feet wasn’t quite clear to me, but at least the salty walls can offer possibilities when it comes to (tequila) drinking games. I never licked so many walls in my life. Correction: I never licked walls in my life.
The 4AM alarm was therefore a brutal one. Apparently the salt flats were prettier at sunrise. Well, I think these salt flats are stunning at every time of day, so the necessity of 3 hours of sleep lies beyond my comprehension. After a bumpy, rocky ride in which I tried to stay alive during my dust allergy attack I got my reward in the form of yet another Landscape with capital L. I get too spoilt in South America. 12000 square kilometers of endless white is just not to be found anywhere in Europe. They would have built flats, apartments, factories and artificial parks on it. Great fun were also the perspective shots, as you can’t see any distance in it.
After this natural splendor we drove into Uyuni, my first Bolivian town. I was surprised to see all women in traditional clothing, carrying their children in colorful woven blankets and escaping the blistering heat under their high hats. I saw the poverty as well. Another world revealed itself. And I was going to explore every bit of it, I decided when I bought my bus ticket to Sucre. The right bus this time, I smiled when I saw the hot French trinity winking at me from their seats next to me.
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Related:
- Go to the Bolivia Page for more blogs and hiking adventures!
- Mountainbiking the Death Road in Bolivia
- Check out Budget Bucket List's FAVORITE HIKING DESTINATIONS worldwide!
- Outdoor lover? Head down to Ecuador and don't miss Banos
- The salt flats of Argentina: Peninsula Valdes
- Salt lakes in northern Chile
- The Salt Cathedral in Colombia
- Go to the Bolivia Page for more blogs and hiking adventures!
- Mountainbiking the Death Road in Bolivia
- Check out Budget Bucket List's FAVORITE HIKING DESTINATIONS worldwide!
- Outdoor lover? Head down to Ecuador and don't miss Banos
- The salt flats of Argentina: Peninsula Valdes
- Salt lakes in northern Chile
- The Salt Cathedral in Colombia