The Salt Flats Bolivia is a photographers paradise. Its 5:00am and we’ve gathered in San Pedro de Atacama to finally cross the Chilean border and begin the 3 day adventure into Bolivia via the largest salt flats in the world, passing lagoons, volcano’s, hot springs and spurting geysers. After days of being refused exit (snow/ rain/ gas shortages/ half drunk Bolivians after New Years) we finally arrive at the Chilean border, where we were told we´d need to wait 4 hours till midday to hear if the roads would be ‘open’ for us to travel. After waiting hours in the blistering heat waiting and waiting, we finally got the go ahead that we could leave.
After once again enduring the tediousness of Chilean customs, we were on our way to Bolivia! I was excited to be entering a country for the first time and before another hour had passed, we were already at over 5,000m above sea level. Bolivian customs was a sight to behold, for we were nowhere near any form of civilisation, yet there before us stood a squat rectangular structure with faded blue paint in the middle of this vast expanse.
Nearby was the rusting shell of a bus that was the toilet. Once the formalities were out of the way, we clambered into our Toyota Landcruiser, along with our driver, Wilson, and we were on our way to what would be three days of some of the most scenically breathtaking landscapes of my journeys thus far (accompanied by an unending soundtrack of Wilson’s beloved Bolivian panpipe music…we all have limits).
Our jeep was made up of three Irish, a blunt and overly forward Brazilian guy and an elderly German couple (one of which bore a striking resemblance to a 7 foot tall Mickey Rourke). Our 4×4 is equipped with lots of water, eggs (don’t know how they survived the bumpy roads), an abundance of coca leaves, coca tea and coca sweets (for the altitude) and a broken speed pedometer. High in the alti-plano of Bolivia we visited a number of pristine lagoons including the spectacular red Laguna Colorado full of flamingos, the supposed seven coloured mountain (all different shades of Grey due to the misty eerie weather), we opted against stripping off for the hot springs at Laguna Colorado at 4,200m… and later in the day, we visited an area with a host of geysers and bubbling mud pools that we were free to roam, complete with the usual South American safety advice – “don’t go too close, the mud is very hot”!!! This is where I said goodbye to my shoes…
The first night is spent in a cold concentration-camp-esque ‘hotel’ with a plastic roof where the rain and snow dripped onto our beds. We all sleep fully clothed with hats, thermals, gloves and fleeces. Sleeping at close to 5,000m above sea level in the desert equates to experiencing bone-chilling cold. Even the trusty method of playing drinking games with cheap wine can’t defeat the cold and very little sleep was had by all. During winter, the nightly temperature is regularly in the vicinity of -20 degrees Celsius. Cold. So cold. Still, the daytime exploits and sights made every degree below zero worth enduring. One such place was a bizarre formation of enormous rock formations that struck me as being akin to toys for adolescent giants. I enjoyed clambering atop these odd shapes and peering across the sandy desert plains of the Bolivian Altiplano until the horizon was interrupted by the ever-present Andes. In such places, there is absolute silence. It is like you have stepped into a painting, as they are devoid of sound yet can scream so loudly with colour and shape.
Our second night at a hostel is run by a little 10 year old girl who continuously followed us around the bathrooms in case we’d avail of the hot showers (in which case we should be paying 30 cent for such privilege!). She wouldn’t think twice about walking in on you during a number 2, palms opened wide, demanding the silver from your wallet. In the same ‘town’ we got served cigarettes and cold beers by a 5 year old who ran the local ‘shop’. On the third day we reach the infamous train cemetery (a Disneyland for the Bolivians): where one can play on swings and sea-saws made from old train wreckage. A bizarre place. From here its onto the salt flats themselves. As our 4X4 crunched over the salt and sped to a place where all sense of direction is lost (these salt flats cover an expanse of over 10,500 square kilometres), I knew I was in yet another truly unique location. We spent hours taking silly and stupidly fun photos of seemingly altered visual perspective, due to the lack of anything else in the shot except for flat, unending and blindingly white salt, only contrasted by the blue of the sky. The heavens are reflected in the pools of rainwater creating a big mirror from space that sometimes the Russians and the Americans use it to calibrate their satellites.
When we end the 3 day tour and arrive at the dirty landfill city of Unuyi it soon becomes apparent that we are now in third world territory…yet welcome to AMAZING Bolivia
