On the
final day of our 4x4 tour into Bolivia we get up at 4:00 for the
highlight of the trip - sunrise over Salar de Uyuni. Fermin drives for
about 10 minutes before turning off the dirt track onto the largest salt
flat in the world. 10, 582 square kilometers and several meters thick, the Salar was formed by dried up prehistoric lakes.
Once
the sun is up we make for the Incahuasi "island", a blob in the distance and
the only distinguishing feature for miles. The island is covered in
flowering cacti, some so big that I don't think I would be able to
reach my arms around them, although I don't try - spikes. Even from the
top of the island I can't see the edges of the salt flats. It's sheer
size makes the completely monotonous view as captivating and interesting
as one with mountains and rivers and forests.
Breakfast is cake, jam and yogurt - again laid out beautifully on a table cloth by Fermin - and as we eat we discuss potential photo opportunities. The flat, barren landscape of Salar de Uyuni lends itself perfectly to surreal photography and it is now almost compulsory for travelers to take perspective shots, for example a person (standing in the distance) held in the hand of a giant (in the foreground).
How Fermin picks a spot a don't know, every patch of salt is exactly the same as the other, but after driving for ten minutes he just stops. We spend half an hour (with lots of 'back, back back, ok move left a bit.... right a bit') taking photos while Fermin, obviously used to this Uyuni rite of passage, has a nap in the car.
By the time we're finished I have sore eyes, despite my sunglasses, from the reflection of light off the salt. I'm also exhausted from all the running back and forth at 3, 656 meters and manage to have a nap in the car, grateful that the salt offers a smoother ride than we've had for the past two days.
I wake up when we arrive in the area of Salar de Uyuni used for mining. I had expected a network of tunnels, little wagons and pick axes, but when I get out of the car I'm surprised to discover that it is all done above ground and by hand. All around me there are big square patches where the salt is just shoveled off the ground and into trucks. It is estimated that the Salar contains 10 billion tonnes of salt and less than 25,000 tonnes are extracted annually.
Having reached the other side of the salt flats we join an actual road, which takes us to the dusty mining town of Uyuni and it's famous train cemetery, where a collection of disused locomotives and rail cars sit decaying in the desert. The lack of health and safety regulations in Bolivia enables us to climb right into rusty structures and onto the roofs.
Now truly exhausted from a long and exiting day Fermin drops us in the charmless town center where, after a final group meal of empanadas, Alex and I await the joy of a 12 hour over night bus to the capital of Bolivia, La Paz, on the worst roads in South America.
Above: Salar De Uyuni from space
@
Breakfast is cake, jam and yogurt - again laid out beautifully on a table cloth by Fermin - and as we eat we discuss potential photo opportunities. The flat, barren landscape of Salar de Uyuni lends itself perfectly to surreal photography and it is now almost compulsory for travelers to take perspective shots, for example a person (standing in the distance) held in the hand of a giant (in the foreground).
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How Fermin picks a spot a don't know, every patch of salt is exactly the same as the other, but after driving for ten minutes he just stops. We spend half an hour (with lots of 'back, back back, ok move left a bit.... right a bit') taking photos while Fermin, obviously used to this Uyuni rite of passage, has a nap in the car.
By the time we're finished I have sore eyes, despite my sunglasses, from the reflection of light off the salt. I'm also exhausted from all the running back and forth at 3, 656 meters and manage to have a nap in the car, grateful that the salt offers a smoother ride than we've had for the past two days.
I wake up when we arrive in the area of Salar de Uyuni used for mining. I had expected a network of tunnels, little wagons and pick axes, but when I get out of the car I'm surprised to discover that it is all done above ground and by hand. All around me there are big square patches where the salt is just shoveled off the ground and into trucks. It is estimated that the Salar contains 10 billion tonnes of salt and less than 25,000 tonnes are extracted annually.
Having reached the other side of the salt flats we join an actual road, which takes us to the dusty mining town of Uyuni and it's famous train cemetery, where a collection of disused locomotives and rail cars sit decaying in the desert. The lack of health and safety regulations in Bolivia enables us to climb right into rusty structures and onto the roofs.
Now truly exhausted from a long and exiting day Fermin drops us in the charmless town center where, after a final group meal of empanadas, Alex and I await the joy of a 12 hour over night bus to the capital of Bolivia, La Paz, on the worst roads in South America.
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