One important power that the writer holds is that of time travel. Even though something may have been experienced by the writer in the past, he or she has the ability to transport the reader there now. This power is important, particularly when the blog writer may have accidently forgotten to write about a significant part of their adventure through a continent such as, but not limited to, South America. So allow me the opportunity to seat you in my very own Delorian, fire up the flux capacitor and take you back 2 months to the blank, white expanse littered with large, pink birds that was the Uyuni salt flats and our journey through them.
Day 1
The sun emerges after being seemingly buried for 12 hours
beneath the sand of the Atacama, stretching light across the floor of the dorm,
up the leg of the bunk bed until it just begins to warm my face. I awaken…..
again. Its one of the downsides of dorm life, the co-inhabitant snorer. I felt
it necessary to go to bed early last night so as to prepare for the 3 day
desert tour ahead…… his deviated septum did not agree. It wanted to discuss the
meaning of life in a droning, gurgled monotone all night. I wasn’t enlightened.
Pre-packing was a stroke of genius on Nikis part,
particularly after the sleepless night we had. So after a brief amount of
morning “prettying” and a breakfast massacre we headed out to the front of the
hostel where the small bus from Estrella Del Sur Tours was waiting with its engine running. You will all know
the type of bus im talking about. The white kind that usually contain school
kids on an excursion to some form of local monument or an excitably drunk
football team on their way home after an epic win or a disappointing loss. It
was clean looking and the engine gave off a smooth purring sound so that’s a
good start. We clamber in and the journey begins.
The first stop is the Chilean exit border crossing. It was
orderly, ill give it that. Guided by tired men in military uniforms we and the
3 other bus loads of gringos formed a shambles of a line while one at a time we
were allowed to walk up to the small, bared window and be processed.
Next, approximately 15 minutes further down the road, was
the Bolivian entry border crossing. This place was unreal. Nestled in the
foothills of an old snow capped volcano, surrounded by artefacts like half
buried, rusted out bus bodies and the crumbling remnants of mud brick walls was
a small stone hut. In that hut are two men, one desk, a stamp……… and nothing
else. Welcome to Bolivia.
Once we were given entry to Bolivia our bus was divided into
2 four wheel drives and we were on our way. The first thing the driver did, in an attempt to break the ice, was offer around a small bag of greenery that he identified as the infamous Coca Leaf. Not wanting to be rude or commit any cultural faux pas, we partook as directed and felt the desired effects which made the next 2 hours of the trip very talkative. The excitement of shooting through
the desert on dirt roads at 80-100km an hour was enhanced by the drivers
selected sound track……. 80s greatest hits. Whitney Houston will forever be in
my mind whenever I reminisce about the desert. Eventually, after cruising
through the empty expanse of dry, salty plains and jutting ex-volcanos we
finally came to rest at our first night accommodation for a night of good food (really good food), card games and tea.
Day 2
After a relatively fulfilling breakfast, one that rose above the usual bread and jam that we have come to know and lov......., let me rethink that phrase. Know and accept, we then were once again moulded into our seats in the land cruiser and flying through the desert. Our first destination (and second, third and fifth) was one of the many impressive and highly saline lakes that shimmer among the mirages of the mountainous desert. Although these lakes themselves are about as impressive as any average size water body can be, their crowning glory lies in the scattered avian shades of fuchsia that collect in these lakes, sometimes in smatterings and sometimes in vast clumps, known to many as Flamingos. There are in fact three species of Flamingo that inhabit this region including the Andean Flamingo (P. andinus), James's Flamingo (P. jamesi) and the Chilean Flamingo (P. chilensis). Of these, only the former two were observed in the Bolivian highlands as the third, the Chilean Flamingo, prefers more temperate areas.
The frivolity of day 2 didn't end with the Flamingos either, after another hour or so in the vehicle we were introduced to the rather steamy inner workings of the earth through an assortment of terrestrial portals known as Geysers. These intermittent discharges of water in its vapour phase erupted from the earth, covering an area of 50 square meters. Other more distant Geysers we could identify on the horizon stretched over 30m into the air and seemed to play a part in some sort of energy production system. We were told that people occasionally die as a result of slipping into the boiling mud that surrounds each Geyser, a story that many of the more callous tourists (of which I may have been one) were willing to test out as they lent rather close to the edge in an effort to get a closer look.
Finally, at the end of another comfortable car ride, we arrived at our next nights accommodation..... one of the infamous salt hotels. From the front of our saline palace we could see a road stretching off endlessly into the endless white obscurity of the vast Bolivian salt flats. This, we were informed, was where we were bound at 6am the next morning.
Day 3
Day 3 began with a rather icy awakening and a rather stomach achingly fast breakfast before, once again, we were in the 4x4 and racing through the haze of the early morning in a race against the sun. The reason.....? to see the sunrise over the salt flats, an experience that was far less enthralling than the guide books make it out to be. The sunrise over the salt flats was nothing compared to the sunrise from the top of Mount Kinabulu in Borneo which I had experienced only a short 3 years before. But, all the same, we were up and moving forward...... our next stop, a land locked island?
The island, as with the sunset, was (although interesting) rather unimpressive. I put this down to my tired mind and, consequentially, un-enthusiastic attitude. The island is an oasis among the vast expanse of salt desert, an expanse of white that is renowned for one primary thing...... humorous point of perspective photos.
These are those photos:
The tour was well worth it. The people we met on the tour, the lakes, the Flamingos, the Geysers and the expansive landscape being the highlights.
Now, back into the Delorian, fire up the flux capacitor and back to the future we go.
Niki's Bits
Hard to remember it was all so long ago.... whitney houstan blarring in our cramped 4x4, freezing chattering teeth, surreal pink birds and several nature loo's with amazing views...
