Finale for Trips in South America: Salar de Uyuni (Salt Flats)

As many of you have guessed, the last month in Bolivia was an absolute whirlwind.  The cacophony comprised of classroom wrap-up lessons, final sightseeing adventures, goodbyes, new plans, and that sneaking emotion that comes creeping up when big changes are eminent.  My time in Bolivia was irreplaceable.  I'd like to reflect upon the last few trips to keep as a personal record and a final opportunity to tell you all some more about this experience.

This entry will focus on the Salar de Uyuni in the Potosi region of Bolivia.  It is a highly recommended trip for anyone in or visiting Bolivia, and after making the trip myself, I have to say, they're spot-on for recommending it!

Uyuni (Bolivia)

After the fiasco that landed us in Torotoro National Park, we finally did make it to the Salar de Uyuni (the famous salt flats in the Potosi region of Bolivia).  Mike and I both set several alarms and checked them a few times to ensure that they were indeed set to leave in the morning, not the afternoon or evening.  To our relief, we ended up at the airport with no problems --then, we ended up face-to-nose with the smallest airplane I've ever seen on a commercial runway.  I am certainly no expert in aviation anything; however, our 12-passenger, propeller-propelled, iPad-stuck-to-the-captain's-front-windshield-for-navigation aircraft was, at the least, dwarfed by the other planes in the loading area in about every aspect.  Perhaps needless to say, there were no overhead compartments, the seating was cramped, and there were more than plenty opportunities to become too familiar with every other traveler onboard.  Thankfully, in spite of my concerns, the little-plane-that-could got us there --in one piece and with our luggage, I might add!

Once we arrived in Uyuni, I got a thick, yellow Alpaca fur blanket to brace myself for the cold nights ahead.  I found that the markets in Uyuni are much the same as they are in La Paz, although, this city is significantly less populated.  In fact, much of Potosi has the feel of many cities back home in West Virginia.  It was once a booming, profitable location that turned to toeing poverty-lines and nursing the dilapidated pride.  These aspects simply aren't easily erased from the culture or the people, who continue to push their beloved history towards the future.

The tour was a three-day jeep-ride, starting with a train-graveyard that publicly decays as a reminder of what Potosi was to become, and what was taken from them.  While we had a couple of walks a day, the vast majority of the trip was admiring the scenery and the experience of the vast wilderness with few collections of people and fewer congeries of vegetation, especially during day one.  We did, however, take advantage of practicing perspective photos and videos.

  

In addition to the vast expanse of nothingness, we came across a cactus island in which vicuñas (smaller, less-fuzzy-llama-relatives) lived.

The first night, we stayed in a salt hotel where everything was made of salt bricks or carvings.  It was actually quite warm, too, as salt retains heat pretty well.  We never wanted for food, but the after-meal conversations and festivities were cut short, as the next day was to start around dawn.  (I say 'was to start' because another company decided to prank our company by letting out all of the tires in our jeeps, so the drivers and guides took some extra time refilling the tires and making sure nothing else was amiss before heading out.)

Once we got on the road, day two consisted of visiting lakes of many colors, such as blue, green, and orange.  The colors have to do with algae that grow on the surface of the water and can be seen when the wind ruffles the surface of these natural mirrors.  Late this afternoon, we also got to see natural hot springs and geysers, some of which we could relax in and jump through the steam, and others that would melt through the thickest rubber of your most expensive hiking boots and give your foot a third-degree burn before you could get it off, at best.  It was both dangerous and beautiful and we walked right through everything.  The experience was like something out of a story, unlike most of the highly structured tours back home.

That evening, our lodging, nestled between cliff sides that protected us from the biting wind, faced the largest of these lakes, in which thousands of flamingos flock annually to multiply their numbers. (Four types of flamingos are native to Bolivia.)  Below is a picture of the sun rising behind this lake, and in front of our cabins.  You can also see the steam coming off of one of the benign hot springs.

On our last day, to break up the longest of jeep-rides, we got to climb around in rock gardens, learn about quinoa exportation, and explore a surprisingly lush valley, as depicted below.  There was a lake on the other side of a rock wall that we climbed over to see.  We also got to see llamas and viscachas (a type of Bolivian rabbit-squirrel) while we waited for lunch to be prepared.  This trip was definitely a must-do during my time in Bolivia, and I'm so glad everything worked out so Mike and I could see it together.

*For more photos and information on the Salar, please feel free to visit <http://www.boliviabella.com/uyuni.html>.

*Photo credit to Michael and Jennifer for select photos.