A perspective on the Salar de Uyuni

Our first challenge in Bolivia was finding an ATM that had cash in it, for Catherine. Our second was finding the train station, which we walked straight past and instead found by walking alongside the dusty tracks.

Safely on the Expreso del Sur in Ejecutivo Class we enjoyed views of rock pillars, irrigation and hilarious 90s Spanish music videos, as we wound through valleys. We were summoned to the dining car for an early meal, then blankets and pillows were distributed by the suitably dressed conductor. We slept as best we could between Tupiza (where the train's electricity was temporarily cut off) and Uyuni, where we disembarked at 1am. Our very proximo hostal's twin beds and coca tea breakfast were incredibly welcome.

At 10am we embarked on our first tour of the holiday: Al Extremo's 2-day Salar de Uyuni (the remnants of a big inland sea). José our guide spoke less English than we spoke Spanish, but we were ready: no one had spoken English in Argentina either. A convivial combination of our phrasebook, miming and Google translate ensued, ensuring we understood the important details (e.g. men not women 'harvest' salt from the flats, once a month, and José used to work for Coca Cola in Chile). 

The first stop on the tour was the train cemetery, a tribute to the bygone era of mining, steel and steam across the altiplano. Veinte (20) minutas (minutes) of that and we were off to Colchani to learn how to make salt table-ready (dry it and grind it), pretend to admire some big, rough salt sculptures of llamas, and browse handicrafts. Then onto the Salar itself - with a quick stop to look at piles of salt and bubbling water making its way through from below the salt crust. Lunch was at the now closed Salt Hotel (environmentally unfriendly to run a hotel on the Salar): quinoa, beef, veg, salad (peeled) and more stilted Spanish convos.

Finally, we got to the whole point of everyone's Salar tour - perspective photos. And José did some 4WD maintenance to help with the salty environment. Roger also ate a bit of the ground to ensure it really was salt.

A second highlight turned out to be the Isla Inca Huasi - just like an island in the white salt sea, with 9m tall cacti. We tested our altitude tolerance walking up to the top, with views of the mountains hovering in horizon mirages and lines of 4WD roads criss crossing the expanse. We walked down via fossalized coral arches and caves. Finally, we left the Salar behind and headed to our homely hostal at the village of San Juan, where there was more welcome coca tea on arrival. We had a quick nosey round the village, which had a promising looking if not-yet-completed main square, and a illustrative sign for the necropolis down the road. Over the three course dinner we eavesdropped on the English group on the other table, who discussed: tea, gardening, allotments, Waitrose and spicy sauces they could eat. Our guide casually told us breakfast was at 6am, so we beat a hasty retreat without introducing ourselves.

Eggs and a hot shower fuelled us on the bumpy road towards the Chilean border. José helpfully stopped at the train tracks so we could ask about infrastructure and logistics (freight only, every day). We brushed the border, with views of the active volcano (Ollague) that marks it, and stopped to admire the second-best rock formations of the day. And then - our first flamingo lake, Laguna Canapa! And a second - Laguna Hediona! Here are the highlights of the many flamingo photos.

A further drive across the barren moonscape took us to the entrance of Reserva de Fauna Andina Eduardo Avaroa, marked by the arbor rock (best rock formation of the day). 

A hot lunch appeared from thermos boxes on the shores of Lago Colarado, so named because of its blood red colour. The lake is fringed with stark white: an ice-borax combo. 

Then began the long road back to Uyuni, via a village with great toilets. We spotted vicuna and llamas, and napped. At a toilet break at copper mining town San Christobel we chatted to an English man travelling on his own, who was deaf and could lip read perfectly, but apparently it's much harder in Spanish. Pretty impressive. Later in La Paz we bumped into him again!

After 4hrs sleep in an Uyuni hostal, we boarded the train again at 1.45am and tried to get some sleep amidst snoring, political midnight chatting, coughing, the rollercoaster like train movements and the occasional deodorant cloud. Sunrise over the altiplano made it worthwhile, and of course carb-heavy breakfast in the dining car. At Oruro, we hurtled through town in a gas-powered taxi to jump on a 9.30am bus to La Paz!