Tupiza & Uyuni, Bolivia...

Right again I am a little behind with things as I've been in the desert! The border crossing between La Quiaca and Villazon was a little hairy, we got our entry and exit stamps easily enough, but then we looked in the guidebook and realised that Villazon doesn't have any ATMs and neither of us had any cash. Not that Villazon was a bad place, its just a dusty, bustling frontier town and we had no desire to stay there, just wanted to get on to Tupiza. So anyway, we asked a friendly looking policeman and he pointed us in the direction of an ATM, which must have been added since the book was written, phew, and then went off to the bus station.

In Argentina the bus station is a very slick, organised operation so we were a little bewildered when we got there to people shouting 'Tupiza! Tupiza!' Anyway, it was getting dark so we hopped on a bus and kept our fingers crossed. Which wasn't much help, as there then proceeded to be an enormous electrical storm, which made the dirt track roads virtually impassable. The bus even slid into a ravine on the side of the road and tipped sideways just to the point before it would have toppled over. Then we were stopped for half an hour while the road was being cleared ahead, all in the pitch black darkness with our fingers crossed that we were in fact heading for Tupiza. It's times like these that you have to master your calmness. And I think we both coped admirably well!

A few hours later we arrived, and the hostel was a nice little place right by the bus station, and 30 Bolivianos (about 3 pounds a night) with a double bed and en suite which would never be possible in Brazil or Argentina. We organised a horseriding trip with the guy at our reception for the next day and finally went to sleep, exhausted.

In the morning we got up and had breakfast (included in the price), and were then taken to a farm where we were met by a guide (well, a young looking boy) with three (lets be honest, slightly mangey looking) horses. Never having got on a horse before in my life and without helmets or any of that health and safety nonsense, I was a little apprehensive, as was Danny, (don't tell him I said that), as we trotted off into the barren desert, also known as the Bolivian 'badlands'. Needn't have worried though, we soon got used to the horses and the landscape was incredible, all burnt red and rainbow coloured rock, giant cacti and huge canyons set against a blazing bright blue sky. It's also the place where Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid died. By the end of the day I had even jumped over a stream on my horse (not out of choice exactly, he decided to go, so I went with him!)

We spent the rest of the day checking out the little town and taking in a huge fiesta that went on from about 2pm til 2am (Bolivian's take their partying seriously) with singing and dancers and drummers all wearing traditional and hugely elaborate costumes. And perhaps weirdest of all was wandering down the street to hear an English voice go 'Danny! Holly!' And there were Ed and Kim, a couple we had met in Iguacu falls in Brazil, thousands of miles away! They were also with an Australian couple that we had met on the horseriding trip earlier in the day. Small world! So we caught up with them and they told us they were suffering quite badly with altitude sickness (it's about 3500 metres there) and Ed's blood pressure had gone right up so he was being kept an eye on by doctors. Danny was also feeling a bit headachey after the exertion of the altitude and horseriding, but I was cocky as you like, sure it wasn't going to affect me... Ha...

The next day we took the incredibly bumpy 7 hour bus ride to Uyuni, home to the Salt Flats. Again it was a pretty hairy journey, travelling through unsealed dirt tracks up high in the mountains with vertical drops of thousands of feet on either side. All the locals nodded off straight away but Danny and I stayed awake with tension, gripping our armrests for safety! Thankfully, we made it to Uyuni with no trouble and then headed to the Hotel Avenida hostel, again only 3 pounds a night, and went to Cordillera travel, who had been recommended to us, to book our tour of the Salt Flats for the next day. Usually people take 4 day tours but it's only the first day you visit the Salar de Uyuni, the rest is lagoons and geysers which we'll see in San Pedro de Attacama in Chile so we opted for a one day tour and set off the next day in our Lexus jeep, nice.

Not so nice that I started to feel horrendously sick just as we reached the enormous expanse of the Salar miles and miles and miles from anywhere. But even while vomiting behind the salt hotel I couldn't help but marvel at the landscape. The Salar is the remnants of an ancient lake and absolutely enormous, and so blindingly white it's almost hallucenogenic. We also stopped at a local market in a remote village where the women with their long plaits, bowler hats and babies tied around their waists in bright coloured blankets were selling their local wares (so strange to think people actually live there), saw a volcano and the Cemetery de Tren which is an old railway line that hundreds of years ago ran to Chile, but is now disused and just full of old decaying trains. We stopped for lunch, well, everyone else stopped for lunch, I lay down in the back of the jeep feeling sorry for myself, and then headed for our last stop by which point I couldn't get out of the car but figured I'd seen enough anyway, so I lay there sweating and chewing coca leaves that a French guy had given me as I assumed I had altitude sickness and they are supposed to be a good natural remedy. I also had a raging temperature so some Japanese boys gave me the Japanese equivalent of a Kool 'n' Soothe head patch (from that annoying advert) an Argentine girl gave also gave me a sickness tablet, and the driver some aspirin. They were all so sweet it made me cry, you'll have to let me off on that one, I was feeling very emotional!

Back in Uyuni I was still feeling horrendous, and thanks to all the medicine, on a different planet. Still, we had no choice but to get on our overnight bus to La Paz which we'd booked earlier when I was feeling fine, and things went from bad to worse! The first four hours were ridiculously bumpy, so much so that if you got in a comfortable position it immediately knocked you out of it, plus because it gets so cold the kindly driver had whacked the heating up which with my temperature made me feel as if I was about to spontaneously combust. Lets also just say thank god there was a toilet on board.

12 hours later we arrived miraculously in grey, rainy La Paz, with me looking and feeling like absolute death! We grabbed a cab to the hostel which we wouldn't normally do but I was feeling so dreadful we decided to treat ourselves, and for the rest of today I have been lying in bed sleeping off what I think is a combo of altitude sickness and food poisoning. No more street Saltenas for me! At breakfast here they do mate de coca tea which is supposed to be a good herbal remedy so I'll try some of that in the morning and hopefully will be well enough to walk, very slowly, around the city and maybe head to the witches market tomorrow. Just trying to remind myself right now that we travellers have to take the rough with the smooth, and this was pretty much inevitable. Right, thanks for listening. Bet you enjoyed that one didn't you...