I had arrived in Uyuni, Bolivia well chilled, but otherwise none the worse for wear. During my planning, Bolivia had inspired the most fear as it was the most impoverished and least well developed of the countries I would visit. Luckily, I didn´t let such trivial things worry me overly and set out into the country with absolutely no idea of what it had to offer. As such, Uyuni was a good introduction. Like San Pedro de Atacama, its major source of income was tourism, and an hour spent sitting in the plaza was usually an hour spent listening to conversations in English, German and Hebrew, as opposed to Spanish. Unfortunately, for a tourist oriented town and a typical first stop in Bolivia, it was missing one major component, an ATM. I was therefore stuck with whatever American dollars I happened to have with me as my sole source of income. Typically, this wouldn´t be a problem, but the real draw for Uyuni is a four day 4WD tour through the surrounding countryside, which costs upwards of US$100. It depresses me how much I rely on modern technology, but the tour operator was unwilling to barter with pretty stones I´d found in the street. Credit card here I come. Luckily, Dave (the American with the surfboards from the train) had a lead on a cheap operator that was supposed to be fairly reliable. When you are piling into a Bolivian 4WD vehicle for four days, any promises of reliability are welcome. Even better, the tour was about $40 less than most others, so we signed up.

The only thing more prevalent than gringos in Uyuni is old Toyota FourRunners. This appears to be the vehicle of choice for tours, with each agency having at least two or three parked out in the street. At departure time, there is a steady stream of them headed out into the desert with stacks of equipment, fuel, and spare tires piled on top. Why on top when a FourRunner has so much space in the back, you might ask. A fine question. The Bolivians know that there´s an economy of scale and by bolting a second row of seats in the storage area of the FourRunner, they are able to squeeze seven, that´s right, seven tourists in with the driver for their cozy four day tour. Sounds lovely, huh? Well, we were signed up so there was no going back.

The night before our departure, Dave and I headed out to investigate the nearby train cemetary (the only other attraction Uyuni has to offer its hoards of tourists). Dave is a train engineer, so it was interesting for him to climb around the rusting hulls of locomotives long since retired. I got a kick out of it as well, but somehow suspect it was on a much more superficial level.

Something we both appreciated greatly, though, was the sunset out over the desert. It was by far the most beautiful I´ve seen on the trip thus far, and I took at least 20 photos as the colors shifted from yellows to oranges to purples on the horizon. Stunning.

The next day we set out for our excursion. The guidebooks describe this trip as a "must do" despite the discomforts. We showed up at the office on the morning of our trip to discover seven other happy faces ready to go. That made nine total. Hmmm. About an hour and a half after our departure time, our ride showed up with three people already camped out in the truck. I´m never one to turn my back on good news and was thrilled to find out that our truck would in fact only have five people for the first three days. This was even better news considering that one of the others in our group was about two inches taller than me, putting him around 6´6". Yowsa. Off we went.

Our first day included a visit to the train cemetary (whoops), a visit to a town which processes salt from the nearby Uyuni Salt Flat, and then we would cross said salt flat, stopping for lunch at an island in the middle. Pulling into the salt town, we were introduced to the concept of construction with salt. All the buildings were made of blocks of salt...including the outhouse. When I asked they allayed my fears by reassuring me that all salt used to build outhouses was subsequently sent off to the States for consumption. Yum yum.

Pulling into the Salar de Uyuni (the Uyuni Salt Flats) was an experience completely beyond belief. It looked as if we were driving across a frozen lake, but in fact it was just miles upon miles of salt. We tasted it to make sure.

At the entrance to the flat, there were miners creating "salt mountains", and I was a bit concerned about the sustainability of all this, until my guide explained the formation of the Salar.

Essentially it was an area of ocean that had been trapped by volcano formation and raised to its current 3600 meters of elevation, where it evaporated. Why did this alleviate my fears? Well, the Salar was ringed by volcanoes, and they were so far away, I couldn´t make them out on the horizon. It would be many hours of driving before they became visible in fact. It´ll be a while before they run out.

We pulled into Fish (or fisherman) Island for lunch about 4:00PM and decided to climb up for a better look while our guide prepared the food. This outcrop of land in the salt sea was covered in hundreds of cacti (including one 1200 years old). From the top of the island, an impressive view of the size and scale of the Salar was possible (though it still baffled the mind). I´m on the little hill in the photo below.

After lunch we packed up and headed for our first night´s accomodation. En route, we were greeted by our first flat tire. Our guide had clearly handled a tire iron before, though, and we were underway in no time. The first night´s hotel was the best of the trip. It was a hotel constructed entirely of salt. Tables, walls, floor, you name it, salt. Okay, on further inspection, the roof, doors, windows and toilets weren´t salt, but I think this was for practical reasons. It was a unique experience and pretty posh compared to what was coming.

The following day we climbed into the truck for a day of visiting volcanic lakes, a few more areas of salt flats, and for a climb up in elevation. The whole trip was above 3,500 meters, but on the third day we were meant to reach our highest point, 4,985 meters (somewhere around 15,000 feet). Our second night was at a hotel on the banks of Lake Colorado, at something over 4,000 meters and notoriously cold (record low a few years ago was negative 30 Celsius). The trip on the second day also treated us to some fantastic scenery. Some of the rock formations in the area were fantastic.

And we passed volcanoes still spewing out smoke as they continued their ascent into the sky. Around lunchtime we started to enter the area of volcanic lakes. Many of the lakes in the region are populated by some very hardy pink flamingoes who add contrast to the array of colors found in the waters. We visited green, white, red, and blue lakes over the course of the trip. All ringed by volcanoes. Outstanding.

Pulling into Lake Colorado (red in color) at the end of the day, we were greeted by a hotel much less inviting than the salt hotel. This was by far the worst place I´ve stayed thus far in my trip. They had electricity until about 10 PM, so that was nice, but there was no running water, despite the fact that they had an indoor bathroom. The two did not work well together. Additionally, the hostel wasn´t exactly "airtight". For a location which gets frigidly cold at night to have cardboard windows is a bit of a shocker. Even more so was the fact that they didn´t have blankets enough to go around. It was cold and those of us without sleeping bags slept clothed.

The following morning we got going well before the sun came up. This was supposed to be the best time to visit the geysers. Unfortunately, it was also unbelievably cold as we climbed over the pass near 5,000 meters. We took turns singing childhood singalongs in our respective languages. Old MacDonald was competing with The Tree of the Mountain (a spanish singalong). At least it kept us a bit warmer.

When we reached the geysers, the sun was starting to cast a bit more light, but still was not fully up. The steam from the geysers provided a bit of warmth (if you could stand the sulfur smell). It was my first geyser viewing. I think I would have preferred to sleep in.

After basking in sulfur fumes, we piled back into the trucks for a trip to the thermal baths just down the road. The idea was that since it was freezing cold, we could jump into these naturally heated pools to warm up. It seemed like sound logic until we realized that this meant at least a few moments of unclothedness in the cold air. To his credit, Dave, as a surfer, took the lead and hopped in. We all followed suit and were glad we did. The water was fantastic. Perfectly warmed and super relaxing. Yes, my beard and hair froze in the open air, but the rest of me was warm and comfy. This was the high point of the trip.

As the day progressed, we visited even more fantastic scenery. First there was Green Lake. The furthest point from Uyuni, and within sight of Chile. This lake actually changes color with the wind, but without the wind, we were treated to a great reflection off the water.

Next we traveled back to Lake Colorado to snag some photos in the daylight. It also afforded some great views, and was full of flamingoes when we arrived.

Finally, we wrapped up the day with some more fantastic rock formations. The pinnacle of which was the "Rock tree" which had taken to mean petrified, but in fact was actually a rock that resembled a bonsai somewhat.

It was the best day of the trip by far, and despite the surreal Salar on day 1, the scenery was unbeatable here. On the final night, we stayed at a charming little village nestled against a rock wall. Some of the locals came out and provided a concert for us at dinner. It was clear that they did this every night as half of the kids singing looked like they wanted to be put out of their misery. I found this more entertaining than the music. Call me uncultured if you will.

Our final day we visited the valley of the rocks, an amazingly long stretch of rocks jutting out of the landscape in phenomenal shapes and arrangements. At the end of the trip, we were thrilled to have had a fantastic experience. Our guide was considerably less than talkative, but he got us where we were going with only a few flat tires. For any intrepid travelers looking to undertake the same excursion, one word of advice which would certainly be echoed by my travelmates. Take some music. Our driver had one tape. One tape for four days. We all new it by heart, and it may have been some of the most hideous latin pop ever to punish human ears. I find myself singing it any time I take a long trip now. Ruined for life.