Bouncing Across Bolivia on Unpaved Roads

Waking up on January 2nd was a struggle. The 30 hours of solid drinking had exhausted me. But it was finally time to leave Tarija, my coworkers family, and the comforts of being chauffered around on paved roads. We were off to see the salt flats of Bolivia, the largest in the world and the other highlight of my trip to this country, and I needed to get moving so we could catch our bus across the country.

I moved very slowly. Papito made home-made ravioli for lunch. This dish had been talked up all week and had anxiously been waiting for him to get down to it. It was delicious (well worth all the hype) and helped get me moving a bit more quickly.

That afternoon we checked on busses going in our direction. It wasn`t easy. Several were full. Most didn`t go exactly where we wanted to end up. We finally settled on an over-night bus to Potosi, the highest city in the world. There we would find another bus going to Uyuni and the salt flats. We figured an over-night bus would save us time as we could just sleep as we made our way to our destination. By daybreak we would be well rested and ready for our next bus. We were that niave.

Tio got us back to the bus station later that afternoon in time to catch our 6pm bus. The bus left much to be desired - including shocks. And we were seated in the back, right on top of the wheels. It was only about 40 minutes later, when the bus took a left turn off the paved road and onto a dirt road, that we realized we would be getting no sleep that night. Just to test the waters, I pulled out my iPod in an attempt to block out the droning of the rattling windows. And I discovered all of my music had been erased. Strike three.

There was no bathroom on the bus, so 2.5 hours into the trip we pulled off at a small village surviving soley on the stopped busses. A collection of small restaurants (I use this word loosely) and shops sat in the middle of no where, way up in the mountains. Looking for, and not finding a bathroom, I took a cue from the women squating near a stream and walked down to some bushes. The tall grass hid the stream/sewage water, and I stepped right into it up to my shins. That would be a smell that wouldn`t leave my boots and socks for another two weeks. The driver said we would stop here for 20 minutes. We were stopped for close to an hour. Not such a big deal unless you find yourself locked on the bus as my coworker did. The driver locked the bus after he got off. My worker was just going to chill in the bus for the 20 minutes. But when the 20 minutes came and went, he decided he wanted off. Thems the breaks.

Since we couldn`t sleep as we bounced all over our seat that night, my coworker brought out his iPhone and we watched a movie. Then another. Then another. Then we just sat in the dark and tried to will ourselves to sleep. No luck. I hate busses in Bolivia.

At 5am we finally arrived in Potosi. Exhausted and broken we got off the bus and went walking through the cold air (an unwelcome change from the warmer air of Tarija only 11 hours earlier) towards the bus station across the street. People laid on the floors of the station covered in layers of blankets or burried in sleeping bags, waiting for bus offices to open or their bus to leave. Everyone looked cold. We couldn`t find a bus office advertizing Uyuni and finally asked some one how to get there. There was a street just 10 minutes away full of bus companies offering rides there. Why they were operating there and not out of the bus station like everyone else I have no idea. But it seemed to fit with the overall oddity of S America. So we taxi`d there at 5:20am. Everything was, of course, closed. And now we didn`t have the slightly warmer bus station to keep us slightly more comfy. We out in it and cold. We asked a man on the street what time the offices opened. He shrugged. We asked another man. He thought maybe 8:30. sigh.

So we waited. We met another backpacker as we waited, a Bolivian out seeing his country during a 10 day vacation. We passed some of the time talking to him. Actually my worker did, as they talked to each other in Spanish. They took pity on me every 15 minutes or so and offered some English for me. But then it was right back to Spanish.

When the offices opened at 8am, we quickly snatched up two tickets for the first bus leaving at 10:30. That was a little too much more time to kill standing in the cold so we decided to catch a cab into the city center and see what it had to offer for a couple of hours. We found a warm cafe with free internet. Dos Americano breakfasts por favor. We slowly warmed up. With little enthusiasm, and an increasingly heavy backpack, we walked around the city plaza and down the colonial streets of this UNESCO World Heritage sight. It was raining. We grew tired of exploring quickly. Why not just wait in the bus office? Good idea.

The bus was running late. Or so the office manager said. It seemed more like it was not working and thus not coming. An older german man waiting for the same bus threw a fit and demanded his money back. The manager hid from him in another agency`s office. He found a cop. The cop seemed to have little sympathy for either of them as he clearly wanted to just be inside where it was warm. But the man managed to get his money back. Then he suggested we do the same and go across the street to the other bus company. We discussed it, decided we didn`t want to be stuck there, and my coworker offered to argue for our money as I went across the street to buy two tickets on the other bus. When I returned he had not yet gotten the money back. The manager was hiding again. Tickets were only about $4 so we decided to eat the cost and just go with whichever left first.

Our first choice finally arrived and we decided to go with it. I hoisted my big pack to be tied down on top of the bus. We boarded. It wasn`t pretty. And it was very tight. We looked across the street at what seemed to be a much larger bus. Off our bus we went. My coworker pleaded with the man on top of the bus to untie and lower my pack again. And across the street we jogged. The bus wasn`t in much better condition. But my bag would go underneath (out of the rain) and there were fewer people on board so it felt less squeezed.

The 7 hour trip to Uyuni only took 5 hours. This was because our driver refused to stop. It was bittersweet. I wanted to get threre quickly to secure a tour of the salt flats for the next day. But I also needed to pee. Badly. And we were on another unpaved road which didn`t help my bladder.

When we arrived we went looking for a hotel in the small town with flooded streets and walkways. It was an ugly town. And the rain didn`t help me appreciate it any more. But the bathroom at the hotel did. Checked in and bags ditched we went looking for a tour operator. We found three with varying levels of costs and offers. When one later told us they didn`t have enough people to form a tour, we went with the one that seemed to have a shred competency. Now, time to eat.

Excited to find the pizza place our guide book touted as "Uyuni`s best all around choice", we went off in search with stomachs growling. But we couldn`t find it. On the second try we discovered it inside a hotel. But it was closed due to lack of customers. So we settled on a random pizza place, with painfully slow service, near the hostel. My worker was growing increasingly more sick and couldn`t finish his meal. With our three day tour taking us into the middle of no where, we called it an early night and went to bed. It was nice to close my eyes and lay in something that didn`t move. It wouldn`t last.

To see photos of the Salt Flats and the journey there, follow this link:
http://flickr.com/photos/15233918@N00/sets/72157603705286504/