Bolivia – Seriously Difficult to Leave….

Bolivia’s Deep South- Uyuni and Nearly My Final Fatal Adventure

Almost best to start from the end with this adventure. The area is famed for its salt flats and as such people tend to arrive in a town called Uyuni where they buy a tour. This involves a guide who drives you across the terrain in a land crusier. Our guide, Javier, was a pleasant guy but only spoke Spanish which was not a problem for me but the group consisted of Irish, Turkish and Russian who spoke very little so I ended up as translator. However, Javier seem to have few facts or knowledge about the area. For example we turned up to one location which consisted of interesting rock formations that brutally erupted from the sand. Javier’s comment was simply that they were suppose to represent animals and just advised us to use our imagination. I asked him more about them in Spanish, all that he could say was that he didn’t know, before getting out of the vehicle and walking across to chat to his fellow drivers…

On the evening before the final day Javier went off with some of the other drivers and, according to the lady who owned the hostel where we were staying, drunk a couple of bottles of tequila and many beers. He looked hung over the following day but seemed ok to drive. Then at each point we stopped to look at the landscape he would meet the other drivers and have a blast on some other alcohol (vodka, whisky, etc). By 1pm he was absolutely smashed and his driving had become very erratic to the extent that he was aiming the car over a ravine until I grabbed the streering wheel to straighten the vehicle again (the girls in the back where screaming). This happened on a few occasions until I made him pull into a village. He said we’d spend about 10mins here but I told him strongly that we’d be here for 30mins and he must sleep.

By this stage the girls, in the same jeep as me, were beside themselves with fear (I wasn’t happy either). So I found a shop with a phone and called the agency (Kamal). I spoke to a woman and confirmed I had the right number then went about explaining the situation and the fact that we needed a new driver/jeep to get back. She simply hung up on me, so I tried again four times but each time got the answer phone. The only bus out of the village was fully booked that day and, speaking to a number of locals, no taxis came here. As a result I spoke to the owner of a lorry and asked if he could give us a lift home. He pointed out that he already had his family in the front and no more seats. I explained the situation and said we were happy to ride in the back, he, slightly reluctantly agreed. As such one of the photos is of us in the back of the lorry. Dusty and with a very sore backside (the ‘roads’ are not tarmaced and the lorry had little suspension) we made it back to the main town alive (and in need of a drink ourselves).

I had a good group, one of the photos being testament: me with a Russian chick, Javier and three Irish ladies. Missing from the photo is a Turkish guy who had left for Chile by this point. On the first night our group, nearly single handedly, drunk the hostel out of alcohol. As such a Greek lady in another group with who I made friends said I had definitely picked the right group (as her’s were in bed early and didn’t drink).

The trip was full of the usual Bolivian organisation, they had not booked any rooms for us so the drivers raced each other every day to find the last beds. A major fault is that Jan-March is high season and it was really busy, taking away from the experience in my opinion but the people I met made up for it.

Pink Shorts: thought you might be wondering. Going to Uyuni, everyone said how cold it was so I packed all my warm clothes. It was cool but with a good jacket would have been fine. As such I didn’t pack any shorts as no one said that we were off to the hot springs (which we could swim in). One of the Irish girls then lent me a pair of her’s….. look it was cold that day and I was the amusement of many a photographer (I am posed with the Greek lady, poor girl).

The landscape though was ever changing from sandy deserts with rocks seemingly erupting from it, to a still live volcano, pretty rivers that gave life to green vegetation and villges, hot geezers, lagoons with flamingoes enjoying a daily feed and even snow (although apparently only 3 times a year- made me laugh as thought I’d escaped it).