I slept really well, even though I had been warned that the altitude, the basic accomodation and the cold usually mean a rough night. The only time I woke up was when Alissa got out of the top of the squeaky bunk bed.

We got up for breakfast at seven, not realising that Criso meant seven, Bolivian time, so it was only six o'clock... We had bread rolls with jam and dulce de leche, and lots of tea.

We set off at 8 as we had quite a bit of ground to cover, over 200 km. Our first stop was Arbol de Piedra, tree of stone, which is - you've guessed it - a rock shaped like a tree in an otherwise mpty landscape. We saw the 'Mountain of seven colours' and stopped at Laguna Hedonda, where there were loads of flamingos and Lagunas Cañapa and Chiarcota, where the reflection of the clouds and the mountains in the water created a strange upside down effect.

We stopped for lunch at San Juan, a town of a hundred families. Here was the first time I saw the typical chola dress of the campesinas, which was imposed on them in the 18th century by the Spanish king: bowler hat, layers of pollera skirts, a knitted chompa (jumper) and two braids held together at the bottom.

After lunch (pasta with garlic and veggies, hot dogs and tomato and cucumber) we went to the Museo Kausay Wasi, which told the history of the Tiwanaku, the tribe who preceded the Inca's in this region, the same as in San Pedro de Atacama's museum. There were also mummy burial sites outside of town, but the sun and the altitude were getting to me, so I went back, passed the bleating sheep (yes, there was only one black one).

Maria had obviously picked up on the latest gossip in San Juan, because she had been fairly quiet up to now, but she wouldn't stop talking once we got into the jeep. Criso just smiled and nodded along. She nearly took over his job as guide, explaining about the things we saw.

We passed lots of llamas and also campesinos working the quinoa fields, a grain which is very rich in protein. Alissa asked what the little mud huts were and Maria went: 'ehm, that's where the llamas sleep' which was not very convincing, but she obviously wanted to say something. At about 4.30 we arrived at the Hotel de Sal, one of a few around here, this one in Atulcha, which is completely made of salt, except the showers, which was probably good thinking... For 5 bolivianos or 500 chilenos, there was a clean and hot shower available, which was really great.

We also passed the ferrocarril (railway) from the Chilean border to Uyuni, where there was another military post. The soldiers couldn't have been more than sixteen years old, and while the (perhaps 18 year old) commander took down our passport details, more out of boredom than anything else, they were actually peering through the window, noses pressed against it, which was very un-military behaviour.

Dinner at Hotel de Sal was served in beautiful ceramic bowls and plates, with the tables covered in beautifully patterned cloths. Only the plastic covering the cloth seemed a bit out of place, as well as the Spam served up by Maria (Spam is a kind of tinned beef, absolutely horrid). She obviously thought the Americans would like to be reminded of their home country.

The kids from the village came to show off their panflute skills. One of the little girls who were dancing had a laughing fit, and the boys nearly lost their tune, which was very endearing. We managed to make it till 9 this time, but then I went out like a light. It may have been the boring conversation Steve made, because he was futbol-mad and kept bringing it up in the conversation every chance he got (he was also a Manchester United fan).