Leaving Earth – Bolvia’s Salar de Uyuni and Sur Lipez Province

With so much build-up and planning, could Bolivia’s Salar de Uyuni (salt flats) and the wild area south of the flats (Sur Lipez Province) deliver? F$#K YEAH it did.

Because of limited fuel options, many independent travelers visit the salt flats for a few nights and then make a pit stop back in Uyuni (town on the east side of the flats) to fill up before heading south to the Sur Lipez province (the southwest circuit). George wasn’t having it – no pit stops. Instead we added 3 jerry cans for a total of 6 jerrys.

The extra gasoline and practical tips from a helpful Swiss gentlemen (Marco) at the tourist office in Sucre, Bolivia inflated our confidence. With 48 gallons of gasoline, 30 gallons of water plus 20 days worth of food and extra rice, garlic and cocoa leaves to trade with locals in case of trouble, we were ready to tackle what was to come. And no, in our day-to-day lives we are not preppers.

Day 1: Uyuni’s train cemetery to Isla Pescado

First camping spot - Isla Pescado.

Night #1 – Isla Pescado.

In our typical fashion, we were running late and didn’t head out on to the salt flats until the afternoon after a obligatory visit to Uyuni’s train cemetery.

First stop was a salt extraction operation where George quickly broke the first of Marco’s rules, “stay away from areas where there is water on the salt”. We drove right through the slushy middle of the operation to snag some photos.

Driving on the Salar is like being on another planet, drive fast or slow, turn left or right, it doesn’t matter. We had some of our best fuel mileage on the ultra flat Salar.

Getting to our selected camp spot, Isla Pescado, we broke the second of Marco’s rules, “the flats are the thinnest around the islands and at the entrances/exits – do not drive there”. We promtly drove right onto the island to set camp for the night, and would be all alone for our first night.

Day 2 – 3: Coqueza to Isla Incahuasi

Second camping spot - Isla Incahuasi

Nights #2 & #3 – Isla Incahuasi

The next morning, we visited nearby Coqueza. Each step up to the the mirador to get a better look at Volcan Tunupa was a struggle because of the altitude. After the hike, we made it to Isla Incahuasi, another obligatory stop because of the dense cacti growing on the island. This island is overrun with tourist groups during the day, but it calms down in the evening and was serendipitous stop for us.

George was able to scratch his sports itch playing football with some locals the first night.

After befriending the fellow players, we were able to purchase 5 more gallons of gasoline the next day. That evening, the wind picked up enough for G to mountain board. Finally, we were gifted with a surprise encounter when Southern Tip Trip and Patagonia or Bust rolled in.

Day 4: Salar de Uyuni to Sur Lipez

Night #4 – south of the Salar near a condor reserve

Tearing ourselves away from our friends and the warmth of our bed the next morning, we bombed away from Incahuasi in the depth of pre-dawn darkness to catch a sunrise in the middle of the flats.

It was then time for our ‘funny pictures’ and my opportunity to finally tower of George. I will clutch on to the memory for the rest of my life.

The Salar exit point that we took was a little slushy, but Vida piled on through the muck and delivered us to Gruta de last Galaxias to see a grotto filled with petrified algae. We then managed to purchase another 5 gallons of gas in San Juan from a local business woman who had the dried goods and gasoline markets corned. Although we paid her a little more than we should have, it was nice to see how excited she was to make the sale. We celebrated the gasoline purchase with a cold beer, a real luxury at that point.

Heading further into Sur Lipez province, we camped out near a condor reserve in our ground tent and worked on perfecting our tent cooking technique.

Day 5: To Copa del Mundo

Copa del Mundo

Night #5 – Copa del Mundo (World Cup)

In the morning, we unsuccessfully tried to spot a condor. George went exploring, and believing he heard a nest of baby condors, misguidedly left his flip flops behind to approach unnoticed. The nest was no nest, but some other lone baby bird crying. He promptly very uncomfortably hot footed it back to his shoes.

That evening we found a choice camping spot behind a big rock for some wind shadow. We had unknowingly parked ourselves under ‘Copa del Mundo’ or the ‘World Cup’, a stop from many of the tour operators. We would be in their photos the following morning cooking eggs for breakfast.

Day 6:

bolivia_camp_6

Night #6 – Volcan Caquella

After ruining a few tourist photos and finishing our eggs, we headed north to meet up with the road that would take us through Valle de Rocas and to the lakes district. The road started to degrade here requiring high clearance which meant creeping along at a snails pace for the next day and a half.

We camped in our ground tent that evening on an open plane under the impressive 5947 meter Volcan Caquella. It was our second night cooking in the tent. To someone who hasn’t had a roof over her head in the last year and a half, cooking inside the tent turned out to be nice and toasty.

Day 7:

Camping spot #7 - Arbol de Piedra

Night #7 – Arbol de Piedra

Our first stop on day seven was Laguna Canany. You may call it the stinky lake. We followed the route of other travellers off the main road forcing us to navigate through a handful of ravines. We realized that the road we were on was no more when George jumped in the ravine we were facing and I could barely see the top of his head. We agreed that finding another way was our only choice. My vote was to turn around, but George used his driver privileges to navigate us down a steep hill to the Laguna. He was smiling ear to ear on the way down reveling in the adventure while I was containing the game-ending scenarios my mind was concocting.

Exiting the car, the air wafting towards us was ripe with the smell of sulfur. We made quick stops at Laguna Chiar Khota and Laguna Honda before deciding to do a little more exploring on a slanted auxiliary road flanked by dirt banks. Turning around proved difficult, so we were forced to use the rear diff lock for the first time.

The road to the Arbol de Piedra (a stone tree sculpted by the elements) was an absolute sand pit. We balked at some bikers we saw in the distance struggling through the thick sand. Half of me can respect anyone who has enough gumption to cycle through Bolivia while the other half of me thinks they must be off their rocker.

 

Day 8:

Camping spot #8 - near Laguna Colorado

Night #8 – near Laguna Colorado

Day eight promised to be a good day since we would be crossing into Reserva Eduardo Avaroa (Lagunas Park). The ranger station at the park entrance sits on the west side of Laguna Colorado that was impressively jammed with what I can only guess was hundreds of thousands of flamingos.

That evening we snagged another beautiful camp spot in the belly of a canyon hoping to hide from the unrelenting wind and celebrating with another toasty fire.

Day 9:

Dali's Rocks

Night #9 – Dali’s Rocks

By the morning of day nine, I was reaching the breaking point on number of consecutive days without a shower. Adding in the beating sun, sand blasting wind and cold nights, George decided we needed a distraction in the form of a mountain of crepes. While he cooked, I practiced some knots.

After a brief visit to the Bolivian Aduana at 5020 meters situated next to a borax mine, we stopped by Geiser Sol de Mañana and then headed to the thermal baths situated near Salar de Chalviri to wash away some of the nine day dirt build up. Thankfully, we managed to arrive at a time when there were not tour groups. The family who runs the hot springs took advantage as well of the down time. No sooner had we jumped into the pool then a four year old was passed to us to look after until her older siblings got into the pool. George and I quickly bonded with the five children.

We found a choice camping spot in the midst of Dali’s Rocks for the night. Truthfully, it took us over five attempts to make it up the steep sand hill but George persevered.

Day 10:

Our last day in Bolivia began in epic style with a 360-degree view along with coffee and crepes on top of Dali’s rocks. The decent down from the rock we were perched upon was equally as memorable because of a close call (we’ll leave it at that).  We had the truck packed and ready to go when two park rangers drove up and let us know that we were not supposed to drive anywhere near Dali’s rocks and hadn’t we received and information packet? Well, no we didn’t. The park still has some administration kinks to work out, but from George’s observations they had already made many positive changes since his last visit in 2010.

We rounded out the southwest circuit with a visit to another set of breathtaking lakes (Laguna Verde and Laguna Blanca). Enduring a few more miles of dirt road, we finally made it to the beautiful paved highway that would deliver us down nearly 2500 meters into San Pedro de Atacama Chile.

The Road to Bolivia’s Altiplano

We were finally on the road heading toward Bolivia’s altiplano and salt flats from the muggy east and into the Andes. Arriving in Sucre, we knew there was a big problem with the truck. How you ask? Every time we went over even a small bump or hole on the road, something slammed on the back right of the truck. We could feel Vida’s pain. One of the airbags the previous owner installed had completely sheered off. What we were hearing was metal on metal.

The mechanic we tracked down to add an additional leaf spring and remove the airbags soon discovered another problem. Our frame was also cracked. Driving Pantanal and the road into Sucre had taken a toll. It would be fresh carrot juice every morning for the next week as we waited for the repairs.

We got the truck back 5 days later and Vida had some bounce. The mechanic had installed springs to replace the airbags he removed. It was almost enjoyable to hit a speed bump.

Next stop was the mining town of Potosi where we slept at a hot springs (Ojo del Inca) perched above the city. A lot of people we talked to are not fond of Potosi, but George and I both felt an energy in the town’s colonial center. I also managed to snag a proper vegetarian lunch, which helped.

The road to Uyuni on the edge of the Salar was gorgeous and treacherous with the hail. Honestly, I was so focused on the days to come that I hardly noticed.

 

Steaming water and biting bugs in Aguas Calientes Bolivia

Yet again we had trouble at the Bolivian border. Our day excursion from Brazil to the Argentine side of Iguazu Falls had left us in a technically illegal status in Brazil. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue. The tourist would simply exit Brazil and be forced to pay a fine if they reentered the country in the next five years. As it stood, George needed a Bolivian visa. Before getting the visa, he needed to exit and reenter Brazil (get stamped out and stamped back in). He couldn’t however exit Brazil into Bolivia without the visa. So, a pickle it was. Eventually after bouncing around Corrumba and many visits to the border, he paid a fine and obtained the necessary stamps and finally the Bolivian visa.

Ready to be on our way, we again entered Bolivia and headed to Aguas Calientes. Many travelers only visit the altiplano of Bolivia. It never occurred to us that as you move east in Bolivia, the terrain flattens out into fields and the culture shifts with the hotter weather. The clothing becomes more western while the people seem less guarded (at least on the surface).

Aguas Calientes is situated 135 miles from the eastern Border of Bolivia. A hot thermal river runs through town. During the day, it’s almost unbearable to enter the water because it’s so hot but the river becomes pleasant with nightfall.

Unfortunately, our arrival was timed with the yearly arrival of a fruit fly sized bug that bites. The bugs were so small, they managed to find their way into our tent through the mosquito net and partook in a smorgasbord. George declared war, not resting until he had killed every bug he could find. The bites itched like a sand fly bite. I was loosing my mind scratching for days.

River floating in Bonito Brazil

We had heard that Bonito Brazil was a must stop on our way back from Iguazu Falls. Bonito is a paradox. Surrounded by open fields filled with cattle, you would never know pockets of jungle with crystal clear water flowing throw rock-bottom rivers are tucked into the folds and crevices of the area.

We had Camping do Gordo to ourselves aside from the occasional young couple escaping what I can only assume were their families prying eyes. The campsite is situated on one of the clear rivers. After acclimating to the cool water, we started our first float downstream. It was so perfectly serene with light refracting off the water’s surface.

Bonito offers plenty of activities, but the real draw is the Rio Prata (Silver River). To visit the river, you drive over dirt roads and past perplexed cows to the jumping off point of the tour. Nestled in lush surroundings is a well manicured base where your procure wet suit and snorkel for a float down the river. A short hike gets you to the starting point of the roughly 2-hour trip. Floating downstream we passed what felt like hundreds of tiny little worlds nestled in tree roots stretched into the river from the banks. The experience is more like scuba diving than snorkeling because you are not fighting with the currents.

G and I were already falling in love with Brazil, and Bonito really sealed the deal for us.