Where the World Ends
From South And Central America in 5ish months in Uyuni, Bolivia on Mar 01 '07
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When I planned my trip to South America, I had no idea that Bolivia would hold one of the most amazing sites imaginable. For the past four days I have been left breathless by the beauty ( and the altitude) of the salt flats of Uyuni and the road from Tupiza to Uyuni. Anyone going to this continent MUST, without even a second thought, visit this wasteland that will give you an insight into the country´s landscape and it´s culture.
I set out from Tupiza ( using the best tour company - Tupiza Tours)with Isabelle, her boyfriend James, Sandy and Herbert. If any of you have done those annoying recruitment tests where you have a certain amount of people and you get stuck in the desert because your plane crashes there, then you will imagine how the introduction felt. Isabelle is a nurse, i studied law and am a soon to be lawyer, James is an architect/tour guide, Sandy was an engineer and Herbert was an economist. Our guide, Hilarion is a man of many talents including an expert driver, a mechanic, a DJ and a good samaritan. Herminia, our cook kept us all well fed for the whole time and I can´t thank them enough for all of their hard work in keeping us happy at the worst of times. You will understand why I compare the introduction to a pesky recreuitment test, as you read on.
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Our first stop was to have lunch on the top of a mountain in the company of domesticated llamas. James found the placenta of one of them and we soon became acquainted with a llama and her baby who was still damp from his birth and was still learning how to walk. It wasn´t afraid of us as we got closer to the pair, though the mother started to get edgy after a while. I had never seen a llama that close up but I was soon to see them as a familiar aspect of Bolivia as many people here farm them in the mountains.
Our first night was spent in a tiny village lost in the mountains at 4300 meters above sea level. The lodge was very basic i.e. no showers. The children of the village were left alone as their parents were still working either in the mines or in the fields. They came shyly up to us and asked us if we wanted a photo in exchange for a couple of Bolivianos. These kids weren´t stupid. After me and Isabelle stopped telling them how beautiful they all were, they invited us to play football with them. It was such a great game - the children ran around laughing at us because it didn´t take much for us to be out of breath that high up. Do you remember that shawl that I bought in El Bolson ? After the game, I was surrounded by a group of young girls who were mesmerised by my shawl. They studied it intensely. and they told me it would make a good present ( hint hint). Thinking about it, how many eight year olds in England would love to receive a shawl for Christmas ? Most would throw it out and demand an Ipod.
The next day we left for a ghost town which dated back to the sixteenth century. It was established by the Spanish who brought over Indian slaves ( i.e. from India ) to exploit the mines in this area. Legend has it that the village priest saw the devil behind the church altar, caught it and put it in a cage at the top of a mountain where it escaped to Chile. It sent a beautiful woman to the village who then spread a disease ( sounds suspicious) which killed the whole village. I have to say that the it was very spooky. What shocked me the most though was that the stone houses with their thatched roofs are basically what many people in the mountains live in. Life has not changed very much here since the Conquistadors arrived. I still wonder how people survive in the bitter winter without our modern creature comforts. They live so remotely, some villages only have five families. It is no wonder that people are so intrigued and cautious of foreigners.
I won´t bore you with the details because there are so many ! All of it was a highlight of my trip so far. I have seen red, white and green lakes. I have been through deserts and terrains that leave me wondering whether they belong to this world. I have sat next to geysers at 5000 meters above sea level and inhaled the sulphurous breath of Pachamamma, the Earth God. The barren land, it´s remoteness and solitude remind me of death. The corpses and the bones of dead animals scatter the desert, the lake shores and the mountains. The smell of sulphur and the emptiness made me think of the what inspired Dante´s version of hell. In this extraterrestrial land where nature defies your concept of what Earth looks like, dormant volcanoes dot the road to the most spectacular of all.
The animals here are extraordinary too. The llamas are a cross between a rabbit, a sheep and a giraffe. The farmers identify them as theirs by tying brightly coloured ribbons around their ears, making them look like they are going to a birthday party. I stroked a baby vicuña who was rescued from death by a park ranger. These animals are wild and roam the desert in packs. They look like deer but have the fluffiest fur and the biggest brown eyes that increase their`aahh they are so cute `factor by a million. The Andean fox came cheekily up to our jeep for left over pancakes. Flamingos wade in the lakes for algae, giving them a perpetual rose tint. About every animal that we saw we asked Hilarion if the meat tasted good and it became a bit of a joke i.e. `Hilarion, does that lizard taste good ?´ But the vicuña will never end up on my plate - instead I have decided to adopt one and keep it in my flat in London.
The final night we stayed in a hostel made of salt. Everything was made of salt: the chairs, the tables, the beds ( not the bathrooms), just to add to the surrealness. I know it sounds pathetic, but after three days without a shower, I was so happy to finally have one ! In the evening we had llama steak with quinoa which is typical of this region. It was surprisingly delicious. From the hostel we could hear thunder in the distance over the salt flats and we watched the night sky resonate with the charged atmosphere of the lightning. It was too surreal for words.
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I can´t even beginning to describe the salt flats. They are just too beautiful and there is nothing on this planet that can beat what I saw that day. The salt flats of Uyuni are the biggest in the world and seem to ignore the horizon. The flats were flooded by an inch of water from the night´s storm and so the sky was reflected perfectly. It felt as if we were flying through the clouds in our jeep. It looked like an image of heaven in which angels sit in the clouds amusing themselves. It felt as if the we could reach out and touch the sky. That was until our jeep broke down. Unfortunately for our jeep, salt water has a nasty habit of getting into a car´s radiator and making it break down. Not only that , but the windscreen wipers didn´t work anymore so Hilarion had a lot of problems seeing in front of him. Our poor cook had stomach problems so you can only imagine how awful and frustrating it was for her. By the way, we broke down in the midday sun. Of course. We didn´t mind so much as we saw it as an opportunity to take silly pictures. Hilarion however, got the car to work as if by magic and devised a pulley like system for the windscreen wipers. That is what is fascinating about Bolivians : they use what they can to overcome problems, they don´t give up easily. Luckily Hilarion got the engine started as it was at this point that I was wondering who we should eat first....... did we stay with the car or did we leave it ? whose skils would be the most useful.....
We arrived at the nearest hostel´in style´, to the sound of Pink Floyd´s `We don´t need no Education´. It was James´idea to wind down the windows and blast the song`out so that everyone knew we had arrived. When we arrived in Uyuni we went our separate ways. Herbert and Sandy went to the North of Chile and I went with Isabelle and Janes to a hostel to spend the night before I went to Potosi. We arrived in what appeared to be an ambush by the Bolivian army. The hostel was next to an army base ( a mud hut) and the army regularly undertakes urban exercises in the streets of the city. A French guy that I met there said that he was walking around the corner eating an apple when a soldier jumped out in front of him pointing his gun in the poor guy´s face and demanded that he dropped his weapon. My poor French friend asked ´do you mean my apple ?!´I was also awaken by what seemed to be the shouts of a revolution and a band practicing at 6.30am. How nice.
What an experience! If you like this article and appreciated the painstakingly slow process of down loading my photos for your benefit then please donate to my charity of choice ( not long left to go now, hint hint) at www.justgiving.com/ciccia
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