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We were not a pretty sight as we arrived in La Quiaca early in the morning after our overnight bus trip from Salta; the extremely bumpy ride accounted for a sleepless night and two very grumpy and irritable travel companions the following dawn. We had carefully timed our arrival at the Bolivian border to coincide with the departure of a cheap train that heads to our next desired location, Uyuni, but that train did not leave the Bolivian border town of Villazon until late that afternoon. Thus, taking into consideration the advice of so many travelers we decided to spend most of the day on the Argentinean side- as every source (including our guidebook) claims it is leaps and bounds better than the Bolivian side. We weren't about to pay for a hostel just to comfortably pass away the morning, so we decided to pull out our sleeping bags and follow the lead of the indigenous families huddled together in the cozy bus terminal. When in Rome do as the Romans do I guess. A few hours later our asses were freezing and we found ourselves to be the only people still curled up lying on the floor. The rest of the people had either packed up and boarded a bus or were outside selling their goods in the hustle and bustle of the local market. We weren't quite ready to cross the border so we went upstairs to the cafeteria for some breakfast and a few much needed cups of coffee. After breakfast we took our time packing up as there were still a few hours to kill. We read our books and conversed with a Canadian girl from Toronto who was also intent on catching the same train to Uyuni later that day. Just as we were getting ready to head for the border the waiter kindly brought it to our attention that it was 2 hours ahead on the Bolivian side of the border. Isn't it amazing how an invisible line can be so important! I suppose this new revelation wasn't that big of a deal, but it did mean that we had another 2 hours to wait on top of what already seemed like forever for two drained backpackers. We loathed those extra 2 hours with the little energy we had left. In the end we decided to head across the border anyways, as there was absolutely nothing to see or do in La Quiaca. We walked the kilometer or so to the border with hundreds of other Bolivians and northern Argentineans carrying their heavy loads or children in colorful blankets. I am not sure why, but our mood only seems to improves the less tourists there are around us. Our border crossing into Bolivia was no exception, as finding ourselves in the presence of more locals than foreigners immediately lifted our spirits. It also might have had something to do with the fact we were finally heading into a country we had very much looked forward to since planning the trip back in July. For one reason or another there were hoards of people crossing the border into Argentina and very few going the other way, so we went through the border formalities quite quickly. A poster caught Morgan's eye as we were getting our passports stamped that listed the new steps Americans have to go through to get into the country. Whereas it costs travelers from any other country absolutely nothing to enter Bolivia (and no visa is required), Americans have to pay US$100 just to cross the border. I couldn't stop laughing! I suppose it was only a matter of time before the enemies America has made for itself in Latin America would retaliate in one form or another- it's a shame that it is the American backpackers that have to suffer as they are usually the more likeable of the lot. Anyways, that little poster made me all the more curious to find out more about the new policies Bolivia's new president Evo Morales has implemented- and what Bolivians think of him.With the help of an old French gentlemen we found the train station. It was closed so we passed the time listening to our new companion go on about his road trip through South America. He had traveled across South America in his car with his wife a few years earlier. The car had broken down, and not being able to sell the car, they went home. His wife didn't want to come back to sort out getting rid of the car so he was alone this time around. Though an interesting invididual, being as tired as we were, we were quite glad to finally be rid of him after awhile. That being said, the stories of his travels driving around South America only served to cement the fact that we want to do the same thing one day. Anyways, we spent the rest of the day eating and reading, and generally killing time until the ticket office opened and we could get on the train. At 4:00pm we were relieved to finally be onboard our Uyuni bound train. The first few hours provide some breathtaking scenery, which was rather enjoyable despite the dust clouds that perpetually invaded our cabin. In fact, it was impossible to be completely comfortable on the train, as the sun made it insufferably hot if the windows were not opened, but if the windows were open everyone was choking over the dust. What a predicament! Needless to say I prefer dust over being overheated, so my window was constantly open- much to the dismay of the other passengers. Morgan was able to fall asleep somehow, but I spent the entire duration of the trip trying to watch English movies dubbed over in Spanish at low volume. It was more annoying than anything. Just before 12:00 am we arrived in Uyuni. Knowing full well that there were tons of tourists on the train (and PACKS of Israelis) with whom we would be vying for accommodation, we devised a plan; Morgan would get our luggage off the train and I would run into town and secure accommodation. I soon found myself alone in the empty streets of Uyuni, which were frighteningly lined with oddly placed bonfires burning garbage and barking stray dogs. Somehow we had managed to pick the furthest hostel from the train station to try and get a room, so I ran much further than was really necessary. When I finally did get back to the train station to collect Morgan and our bags she was the only one left standing there. Our plan didn't prove to be all that necessary in the end as we didn't hear of anyone else having problems securing a bed for the night. We like to think it was the right idea though- and the type of thinking we need for those situations when accommodations ARE harder to come by! The next morning we set about organizing our tour of the famous Uyuni Salt Flats. There are well over 60 different companies (both legitimate and not) that offer various tours to see the sights in the area, all of which have the Salt Flats as their main selling points. Initially we were bound and determined to scope out at least a few companies before making a decision, but as seems to be the case more often than not with us- we settled for the first company we approached. We often wonder if we are the biggest suckers of 'em all in regards to backpackers, but sometimes we just can't be bothered to go through all the effort of comparing prices and pulling tooth and nail to get our every pennies worth. Perhaps we should care a little more, but more often than not we hear horror stories from those who pay less than us for any given tour or service (as proved to be the case here). Jhaneth Tours offered the 3 day tour of the Salt Flats to us for US$90, including guide, all our meals, snacks, and accommodation. We had been told that at this time of year we can barter with them, so we said that we weren't willing to pay more than US$70. Desperate to draw in as many tourists as they can and out-compete the other companies they reluctantly agreed. We were, therefore, content with the first tour company we approached and decided that further investigation was unnecessary. The rest of the day was relatively uneventful, other than Morgan insisting on stopping at every artisan stall that was selling llama paraphernalia. A serious obsession had thus been spawned.Our tour was not scheduled to leave until mid morning so we were able to sleep in and pass a rather relaxing morning. The relaxed atmosphere was short lived, however, as after allowing us to be under the impression that all was well for nearly an hour, the guide informed us that we would had to consolidate our luggage and pack both of our gear in one bag. This was not the mildest of inconveniences for two travelers with packs as huge as ours, and seemed like something that would have been easily avoided if we would have been told that- oh, say the day before! It didn't appear as if our tour was starting off on the best of footing. I suppose they did make up for it by buying us a snack and beverage from across the way though. Haha We are so easily appeased.It was over our snacks that we met our fellow passengers; Stephanie and Cristina from Germany, and Nacho and Alvaro from Paraguay. From the get go it was very apparent we were going to have one of the livelier groups- or at the least the trip was going to be extremely entertaining. We were in the lobby of our tour company busy chatting to Stephanie when Nacho and Alvaro came in the building and uttered some of the most mumbled Spanish I had ever heard. We all gave him a confused look, but after a few hand gestures and the use of such universal words as 'vodka' and 'whisky' we understood that he was asking what we wanted to drink. The girls made it known that they preferred vodka, so Nacho went down the street and bought a bottle of their selected alcohol to go along with the bottle of Tequila he was cradling. Shortly after (and only an hour and a half behind schedule) we were bouncing down the uneven road to the Salt Flats.It was apparent pretty early on in our voyage that something was wrong with our Landrover. We were putzing along at a mere 30 kilometers an hour and being passed on all sides by all the other tour companies. It wasn't all that frustrating though as it gave us a chance to chat with our new Paraguayan friends, and thus practice our ailing Spanish. Finally, about an hour into the journey our driver pulled over. With Nacho's help he starting pouring water into the radiator- which was very overheated. Alvaro had climbed out of the vehicle to lend a helping hand, but no sooner was he looking under the hood did he get a blast of water in the face. It was quite comical- though if he should have been hurt it would have been a completely different story. We gave the Landrover a few minutes rest before proceeding to our first destination, a Salt Flat hotel, at a painfully slow speed. When we finally arrived our guide, Enrique, climbed up on the hood of the vehicle to try and get cell phone reception so that he could inform the agency of our car troubles. Meanwhile, we perused the artisan goods being sold by the locals and took a few token pictures of the Salt Flat hotel. We didn't venture too far from the main street though, as for everything from the bathrooms to the 'museums' they were charging a fee. It seems that they find a way to charge for absolutely everything in Latin American countries- which I suppose we can't blame them for. Poverty causes people to do things they otherwise wouldn't, even charge other people to use a hole in the ground that you have stuck a few poles and a curtain around and called a ´bathroom'. Anyways, after meandering through the stalls full of dice and llama figurines made of salt we headed for the first portion of the Salt Flats. Everyone had their cameras out the windows madly snapping pictures as if we weren't going to get a better view later on. I suppose there was no guarantee of getting a better view later so the furious picture taking was justified- although it is funny to think about now. We stopped a few minutes later where there were a few working shoveling the salt into piles to be loaded into trucks and no doubt sold somewhere down the line. It was here that we got out of the vehicle and took loads more pictures. We played around with different poses and took turns taking pictures of each other. It seemed as if we were the only ones who had seen the interesting photos that could be taken on the Salt Flats, as it took a lot of explaining to get our new friends to understand how we wanted our pictures taken. They eventually got the hang of it though, and as you can see we ended up with some pretty good shots.After awhile we got back into our Landrover and made for the second salt hotel. Whereas the first one we visited is a legal structure, the second one we visited is not. It is built right in the middle of the Salt Flats and disturbs the ecosystem itself so you are encouraged not to support its existence. Unfortunately that is where our guide planned on cooking our lunch, so we were forced to spend a bit of time there. We wandered around, took a few pictures of Morgan and the salt llama sculptures, and enjoyed a nice alpaca meat lunch. Soon after we were on the salty road again, making our way to la Isla de los Pescadores.Isla de los Pescadores suddenly appears out of nowhere like a mirage. One moment all you can see is the vast expanse of salt plains bordered by dusty hills, the next you are approaching a solitary island covered in enormous cacti. We spent about a half hour roaming the trails on the island and snapping photos of the cacti, but we didn't last long as there was no shelter to be had anywhere and the sun was overbearing. Soon we were bounding down the road again and taking in the scenery from the safety of our Landrover. We passed a portion that was still covered in rain waters from the wet season, which give off amazing mirror images of the sky. A short while later the sun was setting and we reached the end of the salt flat portion of our tour. We arrived in the small village where we would be spending the night and searched for a hostel. It was frustrating for awhile as for some reason the tour companies don't make reservations and just hope to obtain something for their passengers. Our guide later told us that if we hadn't found a place with enough room we would have to travel on to the next village. Luckily on our final try we found vacancy- I would have probably snapped if we would have had to travel down that dusty road any further to find accommodation. Anyways, we got settled into our hostel, ate dinner, and attempted to play a few rounds of Uno- but they cut the power at 10:00pm so it was a little difficult. We went to bed surprisingly exhausted and passed out quickly.The next morning we were up early- but not early enough as all the other groups seemed to be blazing the trail ahead of us. At the time I was quite annoyed to be bringing up the rear, but in retrospect it wasn't a big loss as the second day was rather uneventful; We passed fields full of Llamas and Vacunas while our guide taught us the difference; We saw mineral lakes full of Flamingos and wondered why they only live in mineral lakes; There were a few volcanoes emitting the tiniest puffs of smoke; And we drove through a boulder field with one large rock called el Arbol de Piedra which doesn't really resemble a tree at all. All in all, I think the second day is just a way to earn an extra couple dollars from us unknowing tourists and is more or less a waste of time. That being said, it was all good with our group as there was little to distract us from our goofing around and stimulating conversations about llamas and flamingos. We arrived at the hostel we would be spending the second night early in the evening, enjoyed some coffee over a game of cards, and retired to our room for a nap. We were all sharing a dormroom, so it proved to be quite difficult to get any sleep- especially with a character the likes of Nacho. Soon after we had all laid down, Nacho starting in on telling us the reason for his trip- he was in search of love. It was comical and endearing to hear him express how at the age of 30, and with all his friends getting married, he was feeling somewhat desperate to tie the knot himself. That is how Nacho and Alvaro came to decide in their drunken stupor at 4 in the morning one day in March to head out on the road. A last minute trip to find love. Later he conceided that as the trip progressed he realized he didn't need to find a wife so desperately anymore, and that he had been learning to be content with life the way it was- for now. I think Nacho is now willing to find love through less drastic measures now! Anyways, after our not so restful nap it was dinner time. We had yet another meal of spaghetti, but this time it was accompanied by a bottle of wine. We finished our meal, and moved on to the wine while playing cards with another group (Nacho invited the Spanish girls over haha). It was off to bed fairly early though as we had to be up at 4:00am the next morning.Even though we had gone to bed early 4:00am came far too soon. We dragged ourselves into the Landrover, and shivered all the way to the first stop as there was no heat and Marcos decided to drive with his window open for some reason. About an hour into the painful journey we arrived at the geyseys. There wasn't much to see as the sun had not shown its face yet, so we took a couple funny photos and loaded back into the vehicle. At that point the geyseys were not nearly impressive enough to make us want to stand out in the freezing cold. Apparently we were the only group weak enough to submit to the frigid temperatures, as we arrived at the hot springs at least a half hour before the next group. This proved to be a very good thing, as we were able to get changed, hop into the delightfully warm water, and enjoy the sunrise without hoards of other tourists around to ruin the beauty of the moment. The sunrise we witnessed while in the Aguas Calientes was most definitely one of our highlights of the tour- if not our trip itself. We were out of the water and getting changed just when a posse of other vehicles packed full of tourists showed up- in that moment we were very grateful for our guide Marcos. After drying ourselves off we had breakfast in a refuge. A bunch of other groups started asking us if they could 'borrow' some of our butter, jam, and milk. One girl proceeded to tell us just how awful her tour company had been. It was in that moment that we realized how lucky we had been.After the hotsprings we went to see the final attraction of the journey before making the nearly day long journey back to Uyuni. Laguna Verde was rather uneventful, especially after the hotpsprings we had enjoyed so much. Apparently we had hit it on an off day because the wind wasn't blowing- I guess the wind makes the water turn all kinds of different colors because of the minerals. Anyways, it was a quick stop. We had almost made it back to Uyuni when near tragedy struck. About an hour outside of Uyuni there is a small town in which all the tour agencies stop for a quick break from the bumpy road. We all took the chance to go to the washroom and buy a few snacks. After short rest we were on our way out of the town. Not 5 minutes into the drive did Nacho and I notice a strange noise. Marcos promptly pulled over the vehicle- for which we can only guess how lucky we were. Nacho and Marcos got out to inspect the Lanrover, and quickly realized that we had barely adverted disaster. Now I am not very mechanically inclined but I will do my best to explain what happened; Five of the eight bolts which attach the rim of the tire to the vehicle (axle?) had been completely severed somehow, and the three that remained were in pretty rough shape. Nacho claimed that if we had gone a few more kilometers at the speed we were going we would have likely ended up flipping over into the ditch. It was a scary realization. Needless to say we weren't getting back in the vehicle, so we walked back to the town we had just left while Marcos drove slowly to a mechanic. As all the other groups left the town we were still waiting for our vehicle to be repaired or for a replacement vehicle to be sent. Finally, after over 2 hours of waiting, we met our replacement vehicle a few kilometers down the road.As a result of the breakdown we had arrived back in Uyuni quite a bit later than expected. Our tour agencies had bought and arranged our tickets to La Paz, and Nacho and Alvaros tickets to Potosi- which were for buses that had left a few hours earlier. This caused a few cross words to be exchanged between the company and I, as they weren't initially willing to compensate us for throwing us off schedule. In the end they helped buy part of our train tickets for later that evening. Once again it didn't hurt to complain! The few hours we had to kill before the train left for Oruro were spent rearranging our packs and eating a farewell pizza dinner with our new found friends.All in all our tour of the Salt Flats of Uyuni were fantastic- although, our trip was probably so memorable, or at least made all the better, by those who we shared the experience with. We were so lucky (once again) to have great travel companions. I had never really wanted to visit Paraguay before, but Nacho and Alvaro most definitely gave me two very good reasons to visit if I am ever in South America again. Our wonderful German friends Steph and Christina were great companions as well. Talking politics and swapping travel stories made the long bumpy rides in between destinations so much more tolerable. I wouldn't want to go back and change anything- however, if I were to do it again I would merely go see the Salt Flats and cut out the rest.Oh, and this is for the crew… A-C-P! (Alemania, Canada, Paraguay!)
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