The Scenic Safari Part 2

On day two of the tour the landscapes would change as drastically as the music playing in the car. Our first day we were treated to traditional flute music. I have come to really hate this music. But I was pleasantly surprised to find the Police playing when I climbed into the truck that morning. The music was across the board that day, just like the scenery we would see.

I was up at 6am and into the cafeteria for a bread and bananas breakfast. Not exactly an Americano breakfast, but what can you do. The others in my group gradually made their way out to the table to join me. But no one really talked.

We were in the truck and on the "road" by 7:30am. Most of our day would be spent driving from location to location, none of them being close to each other. In fact, we drove for five straight hours that morning with only random stops for pee breaks. At one point we were in a ghost town where our guide disappeared for 20 minutes doing who knows what. Other times we just stopped along the hills for some one to relieve themselves.

The music changed from the Police to Nirvana to a Swedish mixed CD. The scenery seemed to change with each new CD. We drove past large heards of alpaca and llamas in the middle of no where. We passed tiny villages of farmers. And we passed giant rock cliffs. The driving again made my eyes heavy, but I didn`t want to shut them for fear of missing something.

There were two other trucks following us on our route. One filled with a Brazilian family, the other with the family of the loud German from the bus incedent in Potosi and the aid working couple. When we all stopped for lunch, the guy from Iowa darted out of the truck. Apparently the German guy was driving him crazy - the guy wouldn´t shut up and he was belittling the guide. I kept a healthy distance. Lunch was lame. Disappointing actually. I ate what I could and went off to climb a hill for a better view before we took off again. We drove on to our first real destinations: lagoons. Some times we seemed to be driving along an obvious trail. Other times we seemed to be following light tracks in the dirt.

The lagoons were pretty. Everything was. But our time to see them was limited. Our guide seemed bent on keeping us moving. We seemed bent on slowing him down. We found flamingos at one and made him wait patiently as we crept close and closer to the birds to get a good picture, and they moved farther and farther from us. We drove further into a desert-like area where the landscape seemed to change colors with the breaks in the clouds. Our next stop was the Arbol de Piedra (the rock tree), a rock that had been weathered into the shape of a tree. We took our obligatory pictures, relieved our full bladders and marveled at the colorful sands and other rock formations.

Eventually we made it to Lago Colorado, a lake colored a rosy shade because of the algae in it. Here we apparently entered a portion of the park we needed to pay for and show our passports. Our guide cut off the engine as we all went in to take care of formalities. When we returned, the engine wouldn`t turn over. The other guy and I had to push our truck the 500 meters to our hostel. We were at over 5000 meters elevation, and so when we got the truck parked, I felt like I was hyperventalating. Our new hostel was a bit less extravegant than our previous one. No heat. No hot water. Just 8 blankets on our beds to keep us warm. I stole several more off the bed my coworker was supposed to get. And then I found a small store with wine to make sure I stayed warm. Dinner was even less extravegant than our place. Spaghetti noodles. I think there was sauce, but it could have also been the soup. I settled for bread and my wine and went back to the store for some cookies to tide me over. With nothing to do and the temps so low, we were all in bed early. Our guide told us to be up at 4am so we could get an early start. I had no problem going to bed early. But I did have a problem staying asleep. I tossed almost all night and ended up grumpy when my alarm went off in the dark of the early morning.

There was no breakfast before we got moving. We pulled off in the truck in the dark. Our guide followed truck tracks for the first 15 minutes in the dark, in the middle of a desert. Then he veered of that trail and seemed to just be following his instincts. The moon was just a thin sliver in the sky, but it was the first time I was able to see the entire moon although it was in the shade of the earth. As the sky gradually grew lighter we arrived at a site where the earth opened up and steam poured out and grey mud pits boilded. Our first stop of the day.

There was little to keep people from getting too close to the suflur smelling steam vents. A danger sign marked one particulary large hole. I watched as two older women tempted the fates by edging ever closer to the cusp. It was cold out - we were at the highest elevation of the tour. Our group explored for a short time and then raced back to the car to huddle in the heat spitting from the vents. I passed around the big bag of cookies I had bought the night before. That was breakfast for the time being. We stopped half an hour later at another lake - this one steaming in the cold air. It was thermally heated. And there was a small pool of water where the tourists could take a warm dip. Our guide failed to mention this to us. So we watched as the other groups jumped in with huge smiles brought by the warmth of the waters. I snapped photos. The Swiss girls looked pleadingly at the warm waters. Fifteen minutes later we were all back in the truck heading to Lago Verde. I strolled down to take a picture of the beautiful landscape and meandered around the cliffs surrounding the lake. When I looked back at the jeep I noticed everyone was already back inside. Ugh. Back I trotted.

Our next stop was for breakfast, at the Lago Blanco. Breakfast sucked. I ate more cookies. And then we sat around the lake waiting for the other truck to show. The two Dutch girls, along with the German group from the other truck, were going on to Chile while the rest of us drove back to Uyuni. So we had to wait on the other truck to divide up the passengers. But they had stopped for a dip at the thermal pool. grumble...

When they arrived and we got everyone divided up, I found myself in the other truck with the Isrealies and the aid working couple. The guy from Iowa went on a rant about how annoyed he was traveling with the German. The stories were funny. But we had an eight hour ride back to Uyuni and fortunately converstation changed from bad-mouthing the German to a list over other topics. Until everyone passed out.

I woke to everyone frantically looking for sugary foods and drinks. Apprently our driver had gotten sleepy and was having trouble staying on the road. I tossed the remaining cookies I had into the front seats. It must have done the trick because we were back in Uyuni two hours early. I had plenty of time to kill before my bus to Sucre at 7pm so I checked email and made calls. I was looking forward to my ride because I still had the open seat my coworker gave up when he left earlier. So I could stretch out. But I was later reminded there are no open seats on Bolivian busses. How do you explain to a Bolivian mother and her three kids that they can`t have the empty seat because your friend paid for it already and you want to stretch out? So when an Argentine girl, who missed her earlier bus, asked if she could take the available seat I gave it to her. Better her than a family of four cramped in beside me. Though when I woke up mutch later (some how I managed to sleep a few hours), the Argentine girl was gone and a large, snoring man had taken her place. I didn`t sleep the rest of the way. And we arrived in Sucre two and half hours late.

But all the long commutes were worth that amazing scenery. If you find yourself near Bolivia, brave the unpaved roads and cramped busses to get down to Uyuni. The pictures tell it all...


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