SALAR DE UYUNI

Uyuni is famous for two things... it's locomotive grave yard and being the main gate way to the salt flats. Where Peru has Machu Picchu and Chile has Torres Del Paine, Bolivia has its salt. If you somehow didn't know this, you would within about one second of departing the bus as you are pounced on by a stampede of leaflet waving tour agencies. Paper cuts are a real danger. Apparently it doesn't matter if you arrive at 5am or midnight you can't escape the leaflets. We arrived late afternoon with our new Aussie maaaates Sarah and Frank and quickly checked into a room. We wasted no time in looking for a driver and wheels to whisk us across the salty tundra and through the bottom of the Cordelia mountain range on our route through to north Chile. We spoke to about four companies in total, finally settling on Salty Desert due to their brilliant recent Trip Advisor reviews. Plus they weren't overpriced and the guides in the office seemed like nice guys and weren't going in for the hard sell.

With a tour booked we decided to walk the 2km out of town into the blustery rubbish strewn dessert to visit the locomotive grave yard. It is the first stop on the three day tour we had booked however it gets super busy in the mornings when all the different tour companies leave town and make this their first stop. Plus the sky was clear and it was promising to be a good sun set.

As we drew nearer following the old train lines we started seeing more and more rusty, unidentifiable bits of train that seemed to stretch on to the horizon. It was like walking through the aftermath of a Thomas the Tank Engine apocalypse. I half expected Tank Girl or Mad Max to come racing past in a cloud of dust. The trains here have come from all over the world, we noticed English, French and Japanese shells all lying next to each other dozing in the evening sun. These trains used to regularly make the journey between Uyuni and Chile however those days are gone and one day so will the trains as the dessert slowly eats them. It was weird how you could just walk out here and clamber all over them, like a giant adults climbing frame. In any other country they would be cordoned off and would require an entrance fee and a guide.

We walked back after the sun disappeared following the shiny tracks that lead back into town.

DAY 1
After stocking up on sun cream, water and snickers we met our guide/driver/legend Iver who loaded our stuff on the roof of his Toyota Land Cruiser. Two more people joined our little quadruplet. A French girl called Leah who rolled into town at 5am and a man from Stafford called Carl. We instantly recognised the accent and felt a slight pang of homesickness. Within no time we were off leaving Uyuni in our dust as we headed out into the dessert. First stop was a revisit to the trains. They were now crawling with people however we did manage to get one rusty engine to ourselves right at the end of the tracks. We were all feeling a little smug as we had had this place almost entirely to ourselves the night before. Still it was different to see it in the harsh bright day light instead of last nights warm orange glow.

We only spent about ten minutes here before setting off for the salt via a small market to stock up on any last minute snacks and water. Not only is Bolivias salt flat the biggest on earth, it is also the largest flattest piece of land on the planet. Apparently NASA use it as a good reference point from space due to its dazzling whiteness. Soon the dusty orange ground turned bright white as we exchanged a sandy dessert for one made of salt. It was incredible and like nothing we have ever witnessed before. The sky and the horizon joined in the distance as our 4x4 raced across an endless bathroom floor of hexagonal white salty tiles. Our first stop was a section of the flats where the ground is covered in a thin layer of water creating the worlds biggest mirror, skirts are probably a no no if you want to show your photos to your granny. A thin streak of salt marked the horizon however on a good day the mirror seamlessly reflects the sky creating some really surreal images.

Even though we had heard time and time again that everything out here is salt something inside us both made us dip our fingers in and double check. I have never tasted anything so salty in my life. It even topped licking the walls of a salt mine in Poland which was another occasion where this urge has overcome our better judgement. Covered in streaks of salt and sun cream we jumped back in the Land Cruiser and headed off to have lunch.

Iver pointed the wheels in the direction of a building near the middle of the flats entirely made from salt. Iver had prepared us lunch and produced a great spread of rice, salad, lamb and chorizo. After lunch we headed further into the white.

At its centre the salt can be up to ten meters thick. This section of the flat is so perfectly flat it plays tricks with the eyes as it's hard to perceive distance. We took advantage of this by taking some comedy photos. Iver had bought a green plastic toy dinosaur with him for this very occasion which has become a bit of a tradition on salt flat tours. He was a great source of inspiration for photos as I guess he has seen it all. After we struggled with our first couple he almost jumped at the chance to get involved. He even directed a short video of us. The final take was pretty good but me and H prefer the blooper real.

Next up was Isla de Incahuasi at 3653m above sea level. It rises up out of the salt and is covered in giant cacti most of which are over 1000 years old. They can reach nine to ten meters high and grow roughly 1cm per year. From the top of the island the salt tiles warp and almost look like water frozen in time lapping up against the shore line. In the distance you can see snow capped mountains which was a little confusing as you could be forgiven for thinking you are in the arctic.

We walked a short path to the island's lookout, then sped off to the edge of the flats for sun set. There was a thin layer of water here too and even though the wind was chopping up the surface the light was stunning.

Our lodgings for the night was a hotel made of.... you guessed it, salt, about a hour from the edge of the flat, in the small town of San Juan. We ate a traditional dish called Pique Mach, which consisted of boiled eggs, chips, vegetables, chorizo and cheese and some other meat all fried up and piled high in a bowl. It's what I would usually make to cure a hangover.

DAY 2
The next day we headed south west towards the mountains that divide Bolivia and Chile. We past a few handsome rock formations and walked a small valley full of munching lamas.

Iver let some of the air out of the tyres as anything resembling a road was soon to end. This really was a great way to cross a country and a border. Loose rocky terrain gave way to sandy desert hillsides with tyre tracks criss crossing all over the shop. I had know idea how Iver knew where he was going, especially the day before on the salt with little or no points of difference to get your bearings. Soon we found ourselves on a rough track surrounded by a collection of wind sculpted rock in all shapes and sizes. One resembled a Condor, another a wave. We climbed up to the nearest highest point which revealed that these surreal sculptures fill the landscape stretching far off into the distance. Iver said most of the rock was blasted from now extinct volcanos.

We carried on eventually pulling up by a quiet lagoon filled will algae that looked like giant multiplying cells. In the distance an active volcano was blowing clouds of steam up into the air making the only clouds in the sky. We sat for a while taking in the barren landscape. If you were left out here in this harsh sun and thin air you wouldn't last long.

Round the next hillside was another lagoon only this one was partly dried up leaving behind a bright white bed. It was surrounded by a ring of mountains scared with cracks of bright orange and white.

Over the hill but not to far away we pulled over and Iver prepared lunch. Roast chicken, pasta and salad was on the menu with a giant triangular mountain to accompany our meal. Two other cars from Salty Desert had pulled over near by, unfortunately one car was blaring Maroon Five at top volume and singing along badly as if they were going through their first break up. It was too much for Frank who climbed up the rocks to escape the school disco, I followed and joined in the Maroon Five bashing, however the teenage Will inside was singing along.

After lunch we climbed higher and higher and eventually rumbled through a small pass in the mountains that revealed three colourful lagoons filled with pink and white flamingos. I have never seen a flamingo before and got super excited. They look so breakable. Without warning the whole flock took to the air and headed straight for me and H. It was a great moment seeing these tall gangly creatures take to the air. Luckily neither of us got covered in any pink and white poop. If seeing the flamingos wasn't enough the landscape surrounding these lagoons was other worldly. It had more in common with Mars than Earth. In fact most of today's drive felt like we were on another planet.

After some more otherworldly terrain of coloured mountains, massive boulders, and layered distant hills we eventually roared over a gritty crest to reveal a massive white and pale green lake. As we drew closer we spotted hundreds more flamingos carefully picking their way through the muddy shallows on their toothpick legs. How they didn't sink I'll never know as with each footstep along the shore line was a 50/50 gamble whether you would ever see your shoe again.

In the afternoon we crossed into the Reserva Nacional de Fauna Andina Eduardo Avaroa. A large nature reserve in the south western corner of the country. We pulled over by a jagged collection of rocks sculpted by the wind. One called Arbol de Piedra pops up on many brochures advertising the park and kind of looks like a tree. As far as lumps of rock go this is a pretty good one however we didn't stay long as a tree shaped rock can only entertain for so long. It did make us realise we hadn't seen a tree in days or anything green (Not including Helen after a bumpy curved section of track)

Climbing higher through some baron valleys and passes we reached Laguna Colorada. A startling deep red, blue and white lagoon surrounded by red and orange mountains. Any one of the lagoons, mountains or rocky landscapes we have seen today would be a tourist attraction in its own right but combined was like driving through the pages of National Geographic. We sat for a while taking it all in before making our final journey of the day round the edge of this massive lagoon to a tiny village on the far shore.

It turned out to be more of a collection of crumbly walls (some with roofs most without) than a village. There was only a collection of basic hostels, two shops (one closed) and a collection of half built or half demolished buildings (depends on your outlook on life). Many 4x4 groups arrived here as it is the only place to stop for miles around. We piled in to a six bed dormitory with garish synthetic blankets. Mine was a print of the jungle with two massive bears in the middle which suited me fine, however Frank and Carl got bright pink Disney princesses. After cards, dinner, sunset and a couple of bottles of wine we hit the sack as we had a 4am start. It wasn't too much of a problem as non of us were expecting to sleep much at this altitude.

DAY 3
After a surprisingly good sleep for 4300m, we were one of the first groups up, fed and out by 4:30am. The stars were out in force and a lighting storm was flickering away on the horizon, like the light from a television you can't quite see.

Iver drove us over pitch black crests and mountain sides as we climbed up higher and higher in the direction of the Solar Manaña Geyser Basin at a staggering 4850m. A string of car headlights twinkled in the distance back towards the village. The air started to smell of sulphur and there were many accusing glances being given until Iver mentioned we were nearing the Geysers. The first one we reached was a man made steam one (I still have no idea why)

However the second was the real deal. Steam billowed up from the ground around us and large thick pools bubbled and churned with the heat from below. It was one of those great moment when you can really feel and see the power of Mother Nature. We carefully picked our way through the geyser field treading very carefully and avoiding small steamy cracks. It was an incredible sight in the light of dawn.

When we got back in the car 'Up town girl' was playing at full volume. I had been playing music from my now powerless phone for the last two days and Frank had said he would take over. After slagging off Maroon Five and saying how much he liked the 60s rock and Indie which had been the backing tracks to the last two days this seemed like an odd choice. Being a polite English man I didn't say anything as we followed the sun rise over the mountain and down through a golden valley. We pulled over by the Termas de Polques hot springs next to a steamy flamingo dotted lake. It was pretty hellish stripping off into a pair of boardies but it was heaven once you were in.

Back in the Land Cruiser, Celine Dion was now belting her heart out with classic after classic. I gave Frank and unsure look, to my surprise he too was giving me an odd look. It was only a day or so later when we both pulled each other up on the music and realised it was Iver's heartfelt playlist, which explains his enthusiasm expressed by tapping the steering wheel.

After some more crazy terrain we pulled up next to volcano Lincacabur. It was the most perfect mountain I have ever seen. It was the kind you draw as a kid, a perfect triangle with a zigzagged white top. It stands at 5960m tall but due to the lack of vegetation out here, it has thinner air than many larger peaks in the Andes, making it quite a challenge to summit. Lincacabur marks the end of the Cordelia mountain range (which run through much of Peru and Bolivia) and the pass through to Chile. Below the volcano was Lago Verde (Green Lake) however it needs a bit of wind to agitate the waters to bring out a vivid green and unfortunately today it was pretty still.

Our final stop before the Chilean border was Laguna Blanca surrounded by many mountains. Due to the still air the reflections were incredible giving us twice the mountain for our money. It was a great final stop and was an awesome last look at Bolivia.

We piled back in the Toyota and rattled our way to the emigration office, a crumbly building that looked more like a shepherd's hut than a border control. After being stamped out we said our good byes to Iver, and Leah who now had a long bumpy drive back to Uyuni, and Carl who for some reason was on a different bus to us heading in to Chile. Due to Chilean strict produce ban at the borders, we had a tapas of leftovers in the queue. As you leave Bolivia and enter Chile the rutted rocky tyre tracks end and a beautiful smooth tarmac road begins. Until now I didn't realise how much I liked tarmac. Bolivia slipped away behind us as we rounded the base of the Lincacabur and dropped down a massive ear popping 2300m into the Atacama Desert. We were back in Chile and it was boiling.