Salar de Uyuni
Salar de Uyuni – or Salar de Tunupa (the local Quechua people prefer to call the area by its original name) – is located 20 minutes north of Uyuni and is the largest salt flat in the world. It measures 12,000 km2, which, to put it in perspective, is a bit over 1/3 the size of Belgium and four times the surface of Luxembourg. For Americans, Rhode Island fits three times into this Salar and Delaware twice – and New Jersey is twice as big.
(As always, click on or hover over photos in galleries to read their captions.)
Many overlanders prefer to drive and camp on this white, vast surface, usually stopping when they can’t see anything but salt around them. A trip on the salt flat with your own vehicle offers a lot of freedom, solitude, and fun, but it also requires protecting the undercarriage from all that destructive salt and giving it a detailed and thorough cleaning in the end. In the dry season. Once the wet season has started in Bolivia, taking your own home on wheels is a bad idea, because the (wet) salt will get anywhere and destroy everything it touches, over time. Plus, some parts of this area are closed when (too) wet.
With that in mind, Mark, Maya, and I booked a tour for the day. Even better, we arranged a private excursion for our little family to give Maya (who was recovering from a nasty dog bite) enough comfort and space, and to allow us the privacy and freedom of a trip tailored to just the three of us. We could tell our guide wherever we wanted to go on the Salar, what to skip or limit, and whenever we wanted to move on. And, to be honest, at twice the price of a group tour ($120 for the three of us instead of $60), we believed it was worth the splurge. ????
Our tour started at 10:30am, would finish after sunset, around 8pm, and included lunch and drinks. We decided to skip stop one (the Train Cemetery where we had been living, exploring, and photographing for four days already) and made stop two (salt processing tour and artisanal markets) shorter, for an earlier start on the Salar. A massive rain storm was threatening, so I wanted to stay ahead of that!
Once on the salt flat, the fun could begin! We stopped by the Ojos de Agua, which our Spanish-speaking guide, Eusevio, called the “breath” of the Salar. Water bubbled up from below, as if something was breathing under the surface.
He encouraged us to employ a local guy to take “forced perspective” photos of us and Maya. Since that was affordable, we obliged.
Next, we drove over the white expanse until we didn’t see anything else but salt. It was a crazy sensation and perspective. After a quick stop by the stairs to nowhere, we were the first arrivals at an outdoor exhibit of statues created by salt blocks from the surface.
Eusevio drove us a different direction (how do you know where you are out there, without landmarks?) and stopped in the middle of nowhere, checking for the wind velocity. “Good for lunch?” he asked. Certainly! He constructed a makeshift dining table, chairs, and umbrella for an incredible and exclusive experience: a cooked meal, surrounded by nothing but whiteness and salt! The heat, strong light, and bright reflection – and the food (enough for six people) – made us tired. We concluded the dining session with another photo session.
Our next destination was the one stop we really requested: Isla Incahuasi. As a mirage, it appeared on the horizon, only slowly growing in size. Then, there it was, an island full of cacti and shrubs in the middle of the white desert! Just like when we were sailing in the Pacific Ocean and we “stumbled” upon a tropical island… But the blue had now been replaced by white.
The path ashore consisted of sharp, volcanic rock, but we all managed to climb to the top of the island, including Maya, realizing once again that we were still dealing with high elevations (12,000ft or 3,600m). The bright sun and exertion made me fear a migraine again.
On the drive back towards the edge of the Salar, we made one more stop for “forced perspective” photos, which were taken by Eusevio. And then, the weather turned and we could see a massive thunder storm approach.
We stayed dry while briefly visiting the Salt Hotel, the international flag display, and the Dakar Monument. There was not much left of those last two “icons,” which we both deemed not worth the visit. Therefore, we kept it short.
Our last stop of the day was a “reflection pool,” which is the area of the Salar that has a thin layer of water, this time of the year. As the rain storms would grow larger and more frequent, parts of the salt flat are closed off. And, during the dry season, this pool is nonexistent.
We partook in one more spectacular photo session and were faced with the decision of staying or going. Sunset was not for another hour (a bottle of “golden hour” wine was included in this trip), the thunder and lightning were getting closer, and I was feeling sicker and sicker – and definitely not up for staying any longer or drinking alcohol. These factors made us decide to return home, right through the storm!
The three of us had experienced an amazing day and we would enjoy that bottle of red wine another time! I just wanted to be home in my own bed to battle with yet another horrible migraine.
Valle de las Rocas
Before crossing the border into Chile, we had one more destination in mind: Valle de las Rocas along the northern most part of the infamous Lagunas Route. Initially, we were still contemplating traveling this reputedly beautiful, 300km, potholed, rutted, and washboard road at extreme high elevations. But, after experiencing less than 10km of it to reach de valley of rocks (which took us a bouncy and frustrating hour and a half), we both agreed we were not up for this route! We’ve done enough rocky, bumpy dirt and gravel roads in this last year! Plus, entrance to the park on the Lagunas Route was $20 per person; too steep.
After a quick stop at a canyon, we continued towards a playground of rocks and formations in all shapes.
We found a great camping spot and settled for a handful of days. The wind proved bearable and the sun was present on most days, except when a massive, rare rain and hail storm arrived in this desert landscape.
The following morning, all the mountains and volcanoes in the distance wore white hats!
All three of us loved just wandering among the stone structures, detecting shapes of animals and other forms carved out by wind and water.
The chinchillas were too fast for us to photograph well – and for Maya to chase (which we taught her not to do). She was happy enough sniffing around and finding bones.
One day, we decided to check out what looked like a “balanced rock.” It was as good a destination as anything else!
Another day, we drove to a different section of Valle de las Rocas – it was too far to walk there and back – and hiked a 5-mile (7.5km) loop trail among nature’s playground. No car could follow that track these days, even though we have friends who managed to do so in a Troopy (Land Cruiser).
And lest you think nothing lives in this desert scenery and climate, we spotted vicuñas, foxes, and chinchillas that afternoon. We actually had hoped to camp in this area, but no spot was suitable, so we returned to our original site before dark. It was the best one!
One of the reasons we wanted to stay in Valley of the Rocks – other than its peace and beauty – was to relax a bit after Uyuni and to eat most of our fresh produce, as fruit and vegetables (and meat, fish, eggs, and honey) are prohibited from entering Chile. So, when we were running out of food (who knew what else they would confiscate?), it was time to get going. Towards the next South American country!
Next up: Finally a Plunge book update.
Curious about a previous ten-year chapter in our nomadic lives, which includes eight years aboard a 35-foot sailboat in the tropics with dogs, check out my compelling, inspiring, and refreshingly honest travel memoir:
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