Here’s the link to my photos from Bolivia so far, including the Salar de Uyuni.

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=130934&id=524640807&l=4bfac1e869

Tupiza and Uyuni

I had a decision to make in Tupiza, should I do a 4 night jeep tour of the salt flats, or should I head to Uyuni and sort something out from there? With the experience of the organised tour in Salta still fresh in my mind my opposition to organised tours won out, and instead of heading off into the desert on a jeep I decided simply to sample the sights of Tupiza, which killed ten minutes.

After an overnight bus, then the “experience” of the journey from Villazon I decided to treat myself to a nice hotel with a swimming pool and cable TV in the room, it did mean shelling out almost ｣6 but I could live with that for a night. For my big bucks I got my own room in which I did little but lie in bed and watch Champions League football on TV, the time difference meant they showed one game live, followed by two more as live, so it passed the afternoon and evening away nicely. Sergio had decided my plan was a good one and did likewise himself, but later in the evening I did get to have my first example of the superb Bolivian level of customer service. I ordered a pizza in a restaurant, at which point the waiter said he’d be back in a moment, before coming back to take the rest of our order. 40 minutes later our food arrived, minus the pizza, which the waiter claimed I’d never ordered – even though I had seen him write it down. I was minded to get up and leave but we were in a group of four who all had their food and drinks, so I had to back down from what I was thinking and re-order my food, which obviously arrived once everyone else had finished. I pledge never to eat there again though, that’s my revenge.

After lying in to make use of the glorious noon checkout time the next day Sergio and I made arrangements to travel to Uyuni, the best jumping off for the Salt Flats, by train. The ticket for the six hour trip, which climbed about 1000m was a whopping ｣3.50 – or less than the peak time ticket between Bradford and Leeds, and the train not only departed and arrived on time, but showed DVD’s, had a cleaner who regularly went up and down the carriages ensuring they were kept in a nice condition, and had seats that reclined so you could sleep if you were minded to – and this in a “third world” country. The only downside was that the train undertakes it’s journey from Tupiza at 6 in the evening, so it was soon too dark to appreciate the scenery we passed. On arrival in Uyuni I was delighted to find that my backpack had also made the trip (you can’t take them into the carriages, instead we had to check them in at the station when buying our ticket) and we were met at the freezing cold station at midnight by a number of touts offering a variety of tours and rooms for the night. We decided to go for strength in numbers and joined a group of another eight backpackers who headed for the same hotel. I thought a group of this size might have a bit of bargaining power and that we might negotiate a better rate for the rooms than we’d originally been offered, but those in front seemed to be too tired to put up a fight, and I doubted I’d have much success offering less than seven people in front of me, so I rather reluctantly handed over a whopping 50 Bolivianos (about £4.50) for my bed.

August 12, 2009

As the bus drove away from Uyuni, I looked behind to watch the distance between me and the salt flat grow larger until it disappeared from view. I turned forward to an unknown adventure. I’d slept on my decision, and knew I’d made the right choice to leave the Salar de Uyuni tour behind. Independent travel should be just that—independent. People looked at me as though I’d left India without seeing the Taj Mahal. But feeling unchained from what I’d told myself and what others told me I had to do was extraordinarily freeing. I’d also found that I could bypass Potosi, another backpacker hot spot, and head straight to Sucre that day for 20 Bolivianos (about $2.75) more. It would be a long day of driving, but worth it to go directly where I wanted to go.

We drove through miles of uninhabited Altiplano. Every so often, we passed through a tiny village or saw one in the distance. This journey was one of many on my trip that left me contemplating the complexities of fate. People born in those remote villages would most likely die there. They would probably spend their whole lives negotiating the harsh conditions of the cold and parched high altitude desert. And there I was, nose against the window, just passing through as I’ve done around the world.

We had two stops on the way to Potosi, one was planned and the other wasn’t. The planned one was at Bolivia’s version of a rest stop– a metal toilet with no seat, a kiosk selling nothing of nutritional value, and a “restaurant”. Besides the fact that it was housed in shacks, it wasn’t all that different from a rest stop here in the United States.

Barren desert gave way to beautiful rock formations and full rivers. We’d entered mining country. There were several detours on bumpy paths where men were working along the main road.

For almost the whole ride, our bus had been making sketchy sounds. The noise ceased, and we were brought to our second stop, the unplanned one. The driver tried to restart the bus as he’d done the entire trip, but this time, the bus was stopped for good. We all got off and the driver and co. quickly put large rocks behind the tires so the bus wouldn’t roll back down the hill we’d worked so hard to get up.

The driver and co. unsuccessfully tried to flag down buses that were driving by on a road below us. I was getting nervous about being stuck in Extremely High Altitude, Middle of Nowhere, Bolivia for a night. Finally, a fancy bus we’d seen at the rest stop climbed up the hill and parked behind us. It turned out that the problem was quite simple—we’d run out of gas.

Our drivers siphoned gas out of their tank to put in ours and voila! We were on our way again and very relieved. Once you’re outside of cities in Bolivia, gas stations are nonexistent. Whatever gas you need, you have to take with you. I think many drivers leave unprepared because they know they can borrow some from another driver if they need to. It’s infuriating that they’ll put a bus full of people in that position, but charming that they’re always willing to help each other out.

It turns out that we weren’t too far from Potosi when the bus broke down. We arrived in the early evening. A group of three French backpackers were the only other people on the bus heading on to Sucre as well. Everyone got off, and we stayed on to be driven to the Potosi bus station where we would catch another bus.

At the station, we wandered over to a Cholita selling delicious cheese empanadas. We were starving after a day without any real food. She insisted that we try some beverage in a pot. She scooped it out with a plastic cup and handed it over. I took a little sip to be polite, but wasn’t interested in chugging a mystery beverage when I had a few more hours of driving left.

It was a relief when we finally arrived in Sucre. The French trio invited me to stay at a hostel with them, so we caught a cab together to center of town. We found a hostel and settled in before heading to dinner. After our late meal, we called it a night. It had been a long day. But I felt happy in Sucre. Even in the dark, I sensed that I would love the energy of the city. I couldn’t wait to roam its cobblestoned streets the next day.

August 11, 2009

As we approached Uyuni, I could see light peaking through the curtain. I pushed it back so I could wipe the water off the window. But the water didn’t move. It wasn’t water, it was ice. It had literally been a freezing cold night.  Needless to say, no one on the bus had slept much. We stepped off the cold bus into an even colder town. The sun was barely up and hadn’t had a chance to warm it yet.

There was someone from the tour company waiting for me. She shouted my name and held up a sign until I approached her. She welcomed me with a huge smile and continued to repeat my name. She walked me to the tour office. With each step, I increasingly couldn’t feel my feet on the ground. They joined my fingers in complete numbness along the ten minute walk.

The inside of the tour office was just as chilly. The woman turned on a floor heat lamp while we worked through the formalities. I’d signed up for a three day, two night tour. I was apprehensive about it. It was only going to get colder, and I had no idea who would be in my group. She left and said I could continue to hang out and defrost. When I finally felt my fingers and toes tingle and begin to regain feeling, I headed across the street to eat breakfast.

In the restaurant, I found my English former roommates and their three friends. There was a fire in center and three heat lamps made from barbecue gas tanks spread throughout the room. Over breakfast, we had a jovial conversation about the perils of traveling in Bolivia. It truly is a challenging destination. While laughing hysterically, we discussed how the amount of laughing we’d done often prevented us from breaking down and crying. I wished I’d been able to find their tour company office in La Paz, it would have been fun to go with them on the tour.

After breakfast, I still had quite a bit of time, so I went to look for a Western Union. I found one, but my attempt to claim my money there was unsuccessful. I figured that Sucre would be more modern and better place for transactions. I felt that I had enough money to last until I got there. I stopped by a store to buy wool mittens to layer over my gloves before heading back to the tour office. I was ready for my Salar de Uyuni tour.

Jeeps filled up and left and I was still sitting in an empty tour office waiting for a group. Finally, the woman who’d gotten me from the bus showed me to my group– five French people. They seemed like a nice group of people and like they wanted to be inclusive, but I still felt like the odd person out.

As we reached the outskirts of Uyuni, a group of teenage boys stared at us menacingly and showed us their middle fingers. It felt like an omen. We drove on through an open field of desert vegetation that was covered with trash. Our first stop was a train cemetery that was overrun with tourists. We agreed as a group that we did not want to stop there. We’d been among the last groups to leave Uyuni and it would be nice to get a head start to the next stops.

The next one was what I like to call a shopping stop. We were dumped in a spot with vendors selling a bunch of random items made out of salt. At this stop, I ran into a German guy I’d had a brief conversation with in Uyuni. He was doing a one day tour and I fully envied him at that point. His tour mate, a feminine English guy decked out in llama gringo gear, started to talk to me as though we’d already met. He seemed like someone who’d been traveling for awhile. I immediately like him.

Back on the jeep, we headed to the next stop, mounds of salt. It was here that I realized our guide’s main goal was to drive us around. The Amazon tour guide was just right. The Tiahuanaco guide was way too hot with his excessive amounts of information. This guide was way too cold. He never cracked a smile and drove without saying a thing until we arrived at a stop. “We stop here. You guys take pictures. 20 minutes.”

Inside the Salt Hotel

We drove across stark white land through electric blue sky, it was a whole lot of blindingly beautiful nothing. Our next stop was a salt hotel. I bumped into the English guy and German guy again there. “Do you want to stay in a place like this?” the English guy quizzed me. No, I did not. But my tour included staying in a salt hotel that night. We got back in the van to head off to our next stop. Because you are so close to it, when the sun comes up, it can get warm. Now defrosted, my exhausted body could relax enough for me to fall asleep.

Incahuasi Island

I woke up to the most incredible sight I’ve ever seen, an island of green cacti in the distance surrounded by a sea of white salt. It was Incahuasi Island and it was magnificent. Somehow upon waking up, I also knew with absolute certainty that I was done with the tour. I asked around to see if any of the day tour groups had extra space in their jeeps. The English guy told me his group had an open seat. He talked to the driver who said it was fine as long as everyone in the group was okay with it. They were.

I was cutting short the segment of my trip that was the impetus for the entire trip. The salt flat had been amazing, but I was ready to leave for several reasons. It was the impersonal feel of the tour and being carted around and dumped in various spots to take a picture or buy things. It was the thought of sleeping ina  hut in below zero temperatures. It was my wanting to get my money situation sorted out. I knew it was best to go. There was something that had been missing from my trip since I’d left the Amazon– joy. I’d been doing the things I thought was supposed to be doing in Bolivia without considering how I was feeling in the moment. I wanted the joy to return to my trip for the last week and a half of it.

I had lunch with my French group. If you don’t request vegetarian, all the tours automatically serve you the same lunch: llama, quinoa, and some combination of vegetables and fruit. Afterward,I did some more exploring around the island after lunch and then helped the English guy take perspective pictures.

He’d had his camera stolen a while back so all he had was a disposable camera. Perspective shots are harder than you think and even more challenging with a disposable camera. I couldn’t waste a shot. He had a stack of books and wanted to look like he was sitting on top of them. I asked him to move forward and backwards. I moved forward and backwards, and went high and low. Finally I figured out that I could get the shot by laying on the ground on my stomach.

The group I hitchhiked back to Uyuni with

After this, I got my backpack from the top of my original group and moved it to my new jeep. I hoped my group members didn’t take it personally. They had  looks in their eyes that made me think they thought I was doing the wrong thing. Maybe they thought I’d be missing out on some great sites. I was sure I would, but I also knew more than anything that I wanted to go. Travel has become less about sites and more about experiences for me. Hopefully I’ll get a chance to visit the salt flat again under better circumstances. If not, I still saw it and opening my eyes to see an amazing island of cacti will be an unforgettable image in my memory.

The English guy was heading on a train to Argentina that night, but I had to wait to catch a bus until the next day. It was possible to take one that night, but night buses are not recommended in Bolivia when there is an option to take the same trip during the day. Thefts are more common when traveling overnight. We went in search of a reasonably priced hostel room for me and I eventually settled on one that was affiliated with Hostelling International. I bought a bus ticket through the hostel. They told me I couldn’t go all the way to Sucre the next day, I’d have to stop in Potosi for a night.

I got settled in my room and then went to meet up with the English guy. We went to an internet cafe that was expensive compared to everywhere else in Bolivia and so impossibly slow that it wasn’t worth it. We left and looked for a place to have dinner. One recommended restaurant was completely full. We found a restaurant tucked into a little hallway off the main square that was completely empty. Who knew how the food would be, but we had the place to ourselves.

The restaurant seemed to be a part of the house of the family who operated it. A cute little girl was setting fire to napkins with a barbecue gas tank heater. She smiled at us as she dropped the burning napkins on the ground. My educator instinct kicked in and I shook my head to signal that she should stop. She kept doing it while looking directly at me with an even bigger, more mischievous smile. My English friend and I shared stories over an incredibly long dinner until it was time for him to catch his train.

A few of the restaurant's "specialty of the house"

As we left, the little pyromaniac girl chased after us so she could give me a hug. That, combined with meeting an awesome person to spend the day with, warmed my heart. On our way out, we noticed a possible reason for us having the restaurant to ourselves. There was an awfully translated sign advertising the dishes the restaurant offered. It read, “we offer him the specialty of the house… PLATES NATIONAL MEAT OF HE/SHE CALLS OR HEAD.” Dishes listed on the sign included: chop male, mounted loin, cream, and pasture. This gave us a good laugh. I was sad that I didn’t have more time to spend with my new English friend, but constant parting was something I had to get used to on that trip. We said goodbye and I went back to my hostel.

There was a sink right outside my room and I turned it on to brush my teeth. Water trickled out for a couple seconds and stopped. None of the other sinks had water so I used bottled water. I used the toilet and unsurprisingly, it didn’t flush. I noticed a bucket of water in the corner and poured it in the bowl to flush it. I went to the front desk to request an extra blanket. It was super cold by then so I knew I’d need it. I went back to my room and got dressed for bed. No joke, this is what I wore that night:

• tights
• leggings
• yoga pants
• two pairs of cotton socks
• one regular pair of wool socks, one knee length pair pulled over my pants
• a camisole
• a long-sleeved t-shirt
• a turtleneck
• a fleece pullover
• a wool hoodie with the hood pulled up
• a wool scarf
• wool gloves
• wool mittens

I felt like Ralphie’s younger brother in A Christmas Story. But I was just doing what I needed to do to get a good night’s rest. It worked, and I drifted off to sleep dreaming of future days when I wouldn’t have to bundle up to the point where I could barely move before went to bed.

August 10, 2009

I had fun plans for my last day in La Paz, but ended up spending the whole day trying to resolve my money issues. My ATM card was gone. Though my trip was winding down, I didn’t have enough cash to complete it. I went from bank to bank trying to figure out if I could get a cash advance with my credit  card. It was impossible because the only card I had was American Express. Don’t listen to AmEx’s slogan. Do yourself a favor and leave home without it. Outside of the U.S., it’s useless.

After hours of waiting in the longest lines I’ve ever seen in banks, trying to communicate what I wanted, and constantly being told it wasn’t possible, I gave up and went back to the hostel. I tried paying for my hostel bill with dollars. But each time I gave the receptionist bills, she took them to a back room where the manager inspected them and told her to tell me they couldn’t accept them. In Bolivia, you’ll often get completely tattered Bolivianos after completing a transaction. But for some reason, dollars, which are widely accepted, have to be neat and perfect. I was already scared of running out of money and this stressed me out more. If a foreign-run business wasn’t going to take perfectly acceptable money from me, what was going to happen as I continued on with my trip into even less developed places?

I went to talk to the manager and explained the situation I was in. I asked if he could accept my dollars and he completely refused. It was appalling the way he handled everything. He didn’t try to relate to my situation and acted like all that mattered was me paying my bill for my room, food, and drinks. All 34 dollars of it. And with no rips in the bills, even if the tear could only be measured in millimeters. He then had the galls to say that if I wanted to give him my 40 dollars, he would take my money at a low exchange rate and not give me any change back. It may sound like a small amount, but 6 dollars can go far in Bolivia. With my uncertain situation, every little bit mattered.

I was very upset and disgusted and took off to find a place that would take my money. Just two blocks around the corner, I found a money exchange place that took my dollars, gave me a good exchange rate, and only cared about whether or not my bills were real.

I headed back to the hostel where I discussed this with both the manager and hostel owner. I felt like I’d been lied to about how “ripped” money was never accepted in Bolivia and that they cared about nothing more than money. For your information, the hostel I stayed at was called Wild Rover. I absolutely do not recommend it.

I was catching the night bus to Uyuni that night and needed to sign up for a tour to begin the next morning. Two of my hostel roommates from England who were very cool and chill had signed up for a tour with three other people. There was one spot left that I could sign up for. I looked all over for their company but couldn’t find it. I found another one that had been recommended by some other people and haggled for a discount since I really was low on cash.

Back at the hostel, I finally packed my stuff up and hung out in the courtyard with one of my English roommates. I was approached by the hostel’s finance person who was clearly sent to smooth things over so I didn’t leave the hostel with a bad impression. She did seem really nice and understanding, but it didn’t erase how awful the manager and owner were.

By then, I’d gotten a Visa International emergency cash phone number. It was my last hope before asking a family member to wire me money. I called them and finally, there was a breakthrough. After such a frustrating day, I couldn’t believe how accommodating and helpful the Visa people were. They set me up with a claim and said I could pick up the cash at any Western Union within three days. If I couldn’t get to a Western Union within three days, I could call them back on a toll free local number and they would set it up again. I wish I had known earlier that I could do that. It would have saved me from a day of stressing out. But now I know!

I went back out to chat with the English girl. She’d had her phone stolen that day. She was in a crowded area using it to take pictures when someone knocked it out of her hand, grabbed it, and ran. In the past two days, I’d heard many stories of stolen and misplaced goods. There were two other ATM card losses, two purse snatchings, and my French roommates had their things stolen by fake tourists and police. I don’t want to discourage anyone from visiting La Paz, but it’s definitely a place where you have to be careful. It’s too bad my time in La Paz ended like it did, because I really did enjoy the city.

My English roommates were on the same night bus to Uyuni so I caught a cab with them to the station.  On the bus, they served us a small dinner. It was unexpected and welcome after running around La Paz  all da on one empanada. They also gave as blankets for the journey. It was already cold, so we innocently wrapped ourselves in them. There was a welcome notice for each person which warned us not to drink to much of the complimentary water they gave us because it would be a bumpy ride. It seems like they must have had issues with people wetting their seats in the past. After the Amazon jeep ride, the bumpiness of the road seemed minor. What they really should have warned us about was how incredibly cold our night would be.

Jika kuburan biasanya diperuntukan bagi manusia atau hewan yg telah mati, maka kuburan-kuburan berikut adalah ‘tempat peristirahatan terakhir’ bagi berbagai macam barang rongsok yg tak terpakai lagi. Ada kuburan alat berat, pesawat, jangkar kapal dll. Kuburan-kuburan sejenis ini mungkin tidak akan awet di Indonesia, karena pasti ludes dalam sekejap di serbu pemulung pengumpul besi bekas…hehehehe…Bayangkan kalau mereka menjual dozer…wah berapa ribu kilo besi yg mereka dapat?

1. Kuburan mesin Coke di Guntersville, Alabama.

2. Sebuah tempat yang aneh diluar Uyuni, Bolivia. Penuh dengan kereta tua dan kereta mati dari Inggris dan Amerika yang berkarat dibawah terik matahari dan angin bergaram dari Salar de Uyuni.

3. Cemitério das Âncoras atau kuburan jangkar di sebuah bukit pasir pulau Tavira, Portugal. Kuburan ini sengaja dibangun untuk mengenang kejayaan tradisi memancing tuna dengan jaring lebar yang di kukuhkan dengan jangkar-jangkar ini

4. Kuburan Mesin penjual otomatis di Tamamura, Gunma-ken, Jepang. Mesin penjual otomatis ini adalah mesin yang buruk bagi lingkungan karena sangat boros energi. Listrik diperlukan selama 24 jam penuh untuk membuatnya menyala dan mendinginkan/menghangatkan minuman.
5.Teluk Nouadhibou, 7 mil selatan kota Mauriatania, adalah kuburan kapal terbesar didunia. Terdapat lebih dari 300 bangkai kapal disekitar pelabuhan yang mangkrak untuk selama-lamanya…

6.Sebuah daerah yg dimiliki oleh De Beers, menjadi tempat pembuangan bermacam-macam kendaraan berat mulai dari Tank Sherman, kereta api, sampai Tank perang dunia II.

7.Pangkalan udara Davis-Mothan, terdapat fasilitas yang menyimpan pesawat-pesawat yang sudah tamat. Sebagian besar adalah pesawat militer dari angkatan udara dan angkatan laut.Pangkalan itu adalah ‘rumah’ dari pesawat tempur F-16, F-15, F-4, F-18 dll…

There are several routes in South America that can take you from BA to MP, the most direct one is a bus service that leaves daily from Retiro Bus Terminal and goes through Chile where roads are in better condition that in Bolivia. The companies covering the trip go to Lima, so you will have to get down before in Nazca or either go all the way to Lima and from there back to MP. The Companies going to Lima are Cruz del Sur, El rapido internacional and La Veloz del Norte, all of them combined makes departures almost everyday, always in the morning. This is a tough ride of more that 36hs on the same bus and it’s not recommendable for tourists at all, but its still much cheaper than the plane.

The travelers’ overland route have two main options from BA: One is westbound, crossing to Chile and then to Peru, and the Second one is to the North passing through Bolivia. I did and recommend a longer but more scenic and less touristic trip combining both options, that is, departing west bounded to Chile, but arriving to Peru through Bolivia making 7 stops along the way to enjoy and relax. The whole trip done fast could take 10 days, you can do it in less time by shortening the route, as I explain later at the end of this post.

1. Buenos Aires to Mendoza:
Mendoza is the Home of the tallest peak in south America: the Aconcagua mountain. Although you don’t need to climb it its an amazing view. Also the city is famous for its wine production and you might have a lot of fun riding a bicycle through the grape plantations, bodegas while tasting wines along the way.
From Retiro Bus Terminal there are daily departures for this 9 hour trip. The best its to take an overnight bus and arrive to Mendoza in the morning and there are several companies covering this route, the most popular one is  Chevallier.

2. Mendoza to Santiago (Chile):
Santiago, Chile’s capital city, is a good stop along the way and the last city you will see in a long time, although somehow expensive its worth to go around the streets in the downtown area and head down to the main market for a seafood meal and a Pisco Sour.
From Mendoza main bus terminal there are daily busses, minibuses and other means of transportation to Chile. The trip takes around 2 hours and it crosses the Andes mountain chain on a spectacular ride. The border can be crowded sometimes so it’s good to leave in the morning so you can arrive to Santiago before noon.

Border Crossing: this border is a huge building where busses park and passengers get down and do the paperwork with the driver, pretty straightforward but busy at times. Customs control is very tight and all luggage is inspected from each bus that stops at that border, so it can take some time.

3. Santiago to Atacama:
San Pedro de Atacama is a small village in the arid and deserted north of Chile, this charming little place has a lot of activities to do during the day including the world famous moon valley, some salt flats, and the world biggest telescope.
The Ride from Santiago to Atacama is around 24 hours, but don’t worry just pack a nice lunchbox with some snacks because the busses have many ammenities like lunch, breakfast and dinner. Seats are extremely comfortable and there is a round the clock TV program so you don’t feel bored, but even if you do there are on board newspapers and magazines to read. From Santiago Main bus terminal you can catch the Tur Bus or Pullman company bus. Departures daily.

4. Atacama to Uyuni (Bolivia)
The world famous and mineral rich Salar de Uyuni (Uyuni salt flats) is a 4.000 meters high salt lake which is completely flat. By December with the rain season it gets little flooded and it has an out of this world effect as the sky reflects on the perfectly still and flat flood waters. Along the way there are many things to see as well.
From Atacama there is no proper public transportation. You can hire a 4WD in one of the many tour agencies in the village. They can arrange a lift to the Bolivian border from where the jeep and driver will be waiting for you. Although there is a road, the 4WD takes it the rough way and the trip lasts 3 days and 2 nights, where you visit 3 Highland lagoons, see 4 volcanoes, geysers, hot springs and the vast Bolivian Altiplano with views that are surely inspired in one or more Pink Floyd songs.

Border crossing: Exit of Chile is done a few kilometers outside the village of San Pedro. The post serves as double border with Argentina and Bolivia so it tends to have long cues awaiting only to be stamped out. Then there is a 1 hour ride up the mountains to a staggering 4.862 meters above sea level to a remote Bolivian outpost (a small little house) where you get stamped in to Bolivia. This is an isolated place and there are no checks whatsoever to luggage or passports, just they open and stamp it.

5. Uyuni to La Paz:
La Paz is Bolivia’s Capital city and one of the most bustling places in south America, its not only really cheap but extraordinary welcoming, from there you can visit the ruins of the Tiahuanaco culture and delight yourself with Bolivian culture.
To get there the most comfortable option is the tourists busses. There is only one company that makes an overnight trip and it deparst from the same road than the local busses. The options are not much really you can travel in the local busses, which have no AC, no bathroom, and much less a TV and will stop hundreds of times along the way to pick up and let down passengers.

6. La Paz to Puno (Peru):
Puno is a small town in the banks of the huge Titicaca lake and the home of the floating villages, whole “totora” islands with schools, houses and government.
To get to Puno from La Paz you can go straight or either make a stop in Copacabana (The Bolivian side of the Titicaca), where you can see the Island of the moon and the Island of the sun where Incan ruins  are still visible.
From La Paz you can take public transportation to Copacabana, but there is also a tourist service that includes boat rides and it’s almost the same price as doing it on the public busses. Note again that public transportation in Bolivia might be pretty unpredictable. Some of the same agencies will offer you a non stop service to Puno, but that is not true and you will stop in Copacabana and most likely change to a Peruvian Bus. Once on Copacabana there are busses to Puno owned mainly by Peruvian agencies. (Again from here you might be offered direct services to Cuzco but it’s also not true you will change busses in Puno.)

Border crossing: This is an open border with locals coming and going as they please and no controls at all. The driver indicates the Bolivian immigration office to get stamped out and after that you hop on the bus again and head to the Peruvian Immigration office where you get stamped in, again no controls on luggage is performed and you can expect to do this as an errand.

7. Puno to Cuzco:
Cuzco is a charming colonial city that has a black history behind, it was the capital of the Incan empire but nowadays there are nothing but stones to be appreciated in the City: The Spanish conquerors destroyed it and used the temples as churches or government buildings. It’s also the starting point of the Inca trail or the train to Aguas Calientes (Machu Pichu pueblo).
To get to Cuzco from Puno is a 6 hour trip and can be done in any local bus, be aware that busses will make hundreds of stops along the way, carry plenty of water and food since there are no stops for food (some local woman called cholitas get free rides and sell food for lunch for which the drivers get a commission).

Alternatives:

There are different routes you can take along the way, depending on your tastes and needs for adventure. If you need to get there faster, from Santiago (Chile) you may take a bus to Arica (border with Peru), and then continue traveling northbound to Nazca. daily busses cover the Nazca Cuzco 12 hours drive.

You may also reach San Pedro de Atacama from Argentina, going north from Retiro to Jujuy. In Jujuy busses depart randomly to Chile. From Atacama you can reach Arica, although this route is less transited and transportation might be random (not every day and subject to frequent changes according to the season)

Bandeira da Bolívia

A Árvore de Pedra é uma incrível formação natural localizada no deserto de Siloli na Bolívia próximo a fronteira com o Chile. A “pedra” tem esta aparência única devido a constante erosão eólica que essa rocha vulcânica sofreu e vem sofrendo.

Na região existem mais rochas vulcânicas erodidas pelo vento, porém a Árvore de Pedra é a rocha que apresenta a mais bonita formação.

A Árvore de Pedra fica num deserto de 3000 metros de altura e a sensação de estar lá perdido no meio do deserto, cercado por montanhas e rochas vulcânicas é com certeza um sensação especial!

O local é geralmente uma das atrações do percurso de 4X4 que vai de Uyuni até São Pedro do Atacama. Durante o percurso de 3 dias o 4X4 atravessa o Salar de Uyuni (o maior salar do mundo), outros desertos e para no trajeto em lindos lagos cheios de flamingos. Caso você visite a Bolívia algum dia, essa é uma aventura que vale a pena ser vivenciada.

Caso você tenha Google Earth, entre com as coordenadas 22° 3′6.58″S, 67°53′0.32″V e você poderá ver a região onde se localiza a pedra em fotos de satélite. Caso você não tenha Google Earth e queira baixar o programa de graça clique aqui!

Confira as fotos abaixo!

O ângulo mais bonito e mais fotografado da Árvore de Pedra

A beleza particular da Árvore de Pedra

Árvore de Pedra por um diferente ângulo

As outras rochas vulcânicas da região

A tempestate chegando sem avisar!

A Árvore de Pedra é maior do que parece

Perdido no meio do deserto de Siloli

Vista de satélite da região onde fica a Árvore de Pedra

Aproveite sua Viagem!

Mathias Matas Hennig

Você gostaria de visitar a Árvore de Pedra?

Compartilhe sua opinião!

We arrived in Uyuni after one of our worst bus rides yet and thankfully we knew it would be our last in the country.  Of all the countries we’ve visited, bus travel in Bolivia has been the most unpleasant.  The majority of the roads in Bolivia, including those connecting major cities, are unpaved, rocky and dusty as was the case with the road connecting Potosí and Uyuni.  After being bounced aroundfor almost eight hours in a stuffy, smelly and overcrowded bus with no bathrooms, clouds of dust pouring in through the open windows and a very drunk man repeatedly passing out on Carlos’ shoulder we finally made it.  We decided we would visit the Salar de Uyuni and Bolivia’s southwest region en route to San Pedro de Atacama in Chile on one of the popular three day/ two night jeep tours.  With various tour agencies in Uyuni offering similar tours to the Salares we had originally planned to spend our first day in town comparing agencies and prices.  We were barely off the bus when we were surrounded by people offering tours and hostal deals and one woman in particular caught our attention.  She was looking to fill two remaining spots on a tour that was leaving the following morning and offered us free accommodation that first night in Uyuni and free transfer to San Pedro de Atacama in Chile if we signed on, it sounded good so we did. 

The Salar de Uyuni is the world’s largest salt flat.  At an altitude of 3653m and covering 12,000 sq km, it was once part of a prehistoric salt lake, Lago Minchín, which covered most of southwest Bolivia.  Today, a tour of the Salar and its surrounds is a surreal experience with visits to salt plains, hot springs, geysers, colored lagoons and volcanoes.  The ‘climatically challenged’ landscape is incredible and isolated with just a few small towns scattered across the region.  Heading south of the Salar through the far southwest of Bolivia toward the Chilean border the landscape is nearly treeless with gentle hills, volcanoes and lagoons that are home to three types of flamingos.  Located within the national reserve, Laguna Colorada is a bright, adobe-red lake fringed with white minerals and backed by mountains.  Also within the limits of the reserve is a 4950m high geyser basin.  Tucked into Bolivia’s southwest corner just across the border from Chile is Laguna Verde, a stunning aquamarine lake.  Looming over the lake at 5930m is Volcán Licancabur.

Fortunately, our tour turned out to be amazing and the sights we visited are surely some of the most impressive natural wonders I’ve ever seen.  Our guide, Lucio, was professional and took us everywhere we were promised we would go, the vehicle was in good condition, our food and accommodations were acceptable and everything was included in the price of the tour.  But what made our tour really special was the people traveling with us.  Aside from the two of us our group of six included Ivonna and Humbert from Poland and Angela and Johnny from Colombia.  We were all around the same age, spoke English and got along immediately.  Quite a relief since throughout the duration of the tour we were together constantly, even sharing the same dorm room while we slept.   After the tour ended we traveled together across the border to San Pedro de Atacama in Chile and when it finally came time to part ways it was like saying farewell to old friends.

Everyone says that the first night is not too cold, but it was for me!, i may have lived in London for years but i still have that Australian Blood that doesnt like the cold. We all woke up at 5am from the temperature, the departure time was 6.30am but instead of lying in the bed shivering for another hour i got up and did 30 minutes of running and jumping around the hotel to warm me up, as there was no hot water this was the only thing that would get me going!. Around this time, and for some unknown reason the song “She’s a maniac” from Flashdance came into my head, i would sing that song while running around the hotel, or doing exercise under the blankets.. It helped, but everyone thought i was bonkers.. (anyone that knows me should not be surprised at this!!)

First Stop of the day, if you dont count the wine stop!

The day was to be spend mostly in the jeep going through the Bolivian deserts and seeing approximately half a dozen lagunas. The first quick stop of the day was at some rocks, as the trip was done over 2 months ago i cannot remember the name of this stop for my life. Jumping back in the jeep our next stop was at Laguna  Hedionda, this is where we attempted to have lunch in 100 kilometre hour winds.. The setting was beautiful but the temperature was dropping more and more as the day went on, we found more comfort sitting in the jeep.. as did most of the other groups that were having lunch.

Second stop of the day, third if you include the wine stop!

The view and sign was alot better than the lunch!

We decided to not get out of the jeep at the Viscacha Area as the wind has gotten worse, and the temperature had dropped even further, and plus our cheap driver didn’t have any carrots!. So onto the Arbol de Piedra we went, thanks to the clear skies i managed to take my favourite photo of the whole trip, but we didnt get out for long.. we were freezing to death, even with 4 layers of clothes on.. despite that it was quite amazing!

The favourite shot!

Laguna Colorada is the last stop of the day, the red colored lake is quite stunning, as so is the backdrop, i managed to scare all the flamingos trying to take photos.. a big no no, but oh well.. i hadn’t upset anyone in a few days by this point, well except for my filthy mouth and songs on my ipod with the C word in it.

Accidently scaring the flamigos at Laguna Colorada

The nights accommodation was very basic, but we were there first so we managed to grab the better room, and steal some blankets. It was still cold though, and the scrappy meal we had for dinner wasn’t great either. What made it worse is that the hotel owners ignored our cries to put the fire on, after making so much noise and banging on the table they finally did.. the heat only lasted 90 minutes but it was pure bliss, we hit the beds at 9pm that night, fully clothed and under 4 blankets..

We did manage to stock up on Red Wine halfway through the day, us and another jeep ended up clearing the shop out actually as we were determined to get hideously drunk that night so we wouldn’t feel the cold.. It helped, but not fully. We froze even more than the previous night, it also didnt help that the wind was still howling and coming through gaps in the wall.. At this time i asked for a spooning partner, but everyone refused.. I knew i should have gotten drunker!