South America

Continued from Page 1

The next morning most of us got up to see the sunrise over the Salar. The sky was peach coloured but we were still too far from the Salar to see the reflection on the salt. Oh, well, after a good night's rest we were in good moods and all keen to get going.

We had breakfast and piled into the jeep again. We drove to a road built over the mud flats leading to the Salar and soon we were driving on the salt. It was an eerie sensation, like driving on a frozen lake with a light covering of snow, except the traction was good. Zumdi was soon going close to 100 km/hr over the smooth surface. What a change from the rough surfaces we had traversed the previous days.

We stopped at a spot where the locals had been cutting blocks of salt and leaving them piled up to dry in the sun. The Salar at this point is 4-5 M deep layers of white salt and brown soil sitting on a layer of water. Water seeps up through the salt layers causing the salt to crack like ice does over a lake. The cracks form in a hexagon pattern, like the crystalline structure of salt itself. The salt can be harvested 6 months of the year in the dry season. The rest of the year there can be a layer of water over the salt. The lake itself is so big that you cannot see the edge in many places.

Our next stop was the Isla del Pescador (fisherman's island) which is a park called Incahuasi (Inca house). It is a rocky volcanic outcrop covered in giant cactus, the largest of which on the island was 12 M high. Most of them were just tall pillars, but several had developed side arms, like the one Snoopy's cousin Spike talks to in the desert (for those of you who read cartoons). When dried, the cactus is as hard as wood. There was a dwelling built into the side of the rocks with a double door made of the cactus wood. We followed a path marked by cactus wood signs to the top of the hill on the small island to get a good view across the Salar.

Back in the jeep, we had a lunch break at the Hotel Playa Blanca, sitting on the Salar and constructed entirely of slat blocks. The project is halted right now due to environmental concerns about waste water runoff affecting the Salar, but we were able to eat our lunch sitting at a salt block picnic table. We all kept our sun glasses and hats on as the glare was fierce.

Further on Zumdi stopped to show us an area where water bubbles up through the salt, like the geysers we had seen previously. Next we stopped to see where the salt is scraped into large cones and left to dry for a day before being trucked into a small salt refinery on the edge of the Salar. We had a tour of this cottage industry. Salt is shovelled onto a platform heated underneath by a fire of local bushes. The salt is dried for 30 minutes, iodine is added and it is crushed to a fine powder and hand-scooped into 1 Kg plastic bags. They sell the salt for B$6 (less than US$2) per 50 kg. Wages are low here.

That was the end of tour. We drove the short distance to the grubby town of Uyuni and found a hotel for the night. There was a bustling local market in progress on the streets near our hotel. The population is almost entirely indigenous and most of the women wear their traditional costume. They favour a blouse and a wide pleated skirt that falls just below the knees, covered by a full length apron. Their long, black hair is braided with beaded ends and on their head they wear either a bowler hat, a fedora or a more stylish straw hat. We had a good time looking at all the goods for sale and buying fruit and bread for our snacks.

That night we had a farewell dinner with 10 of the 12 people who had started out from San Pedro in the minibus. Some of us were staying overnight and taking the bus out the next day and some were leaving that night on an overnight bus to La Paz. We were all happy with our trip but anxious to get to our next town.

Our next destination was Potosi, about 6 hours away by bus. Another couple and Ray and I were the only gringos on the bus the next morning. The roads were unpaved and we bumped along over the mountains. We stopped at a small town to let out one passenger right beside a sign erected by the local tourist bureau advertising their claim to fame as the most famous silver mining town in the 19th C and the site of a train robbery by Butch Cassidy. I guess the lure of silver brings many people to the middle of nowhere.

Shortly after the bus driver and the conductor got out to check their back tires. Another bus happened by, stopped and rolled a spare tire over to our bus. We took off but shortly after we stopped again. This time they changed the offending tire for the rather bare spare. We seem to pick all the vehicles with problems!

Finally we were on our way again, rattling over the hills. The first lessons the bus drivers learn on that route is how to use their horn. It was needed on many blind curves and to scare the llamas and sheep off the road.

We stopped for a short break at a little store by the side of the road. When it was time to leave, the driver started the motor and beeped the horn. We all piled in and took off down the road. A few minutes later some of the other passengers started shouting at the driver. He had left a mother and her young child behind at the store. We stopped and a few minutes later another bus overtook us and stopped. A very irate woman, carrying a baby, got off and boarded our bus, giving the driver hell as she took her seat.

We finally made it to Potosi, seven hours after leaving Uyuni. Potosi was a major silver mining center for several centuries and a co-operative mine still exists. The entrance was not very promising with hills of mine tailings and the usual flotsam of plastic bags lining the roads.

We took a taxi to the center of the city and were pleased to find a distinctly different town. Most of the buildings, including our hostel, were built by the Spaniards centuries ago and retain a pleasing colonial flavour. We stayed two nights and enjoyed touring the streets.

It was rainy the next morning, perfect for touring the Casa de Moneda, the original mint, built between 1753 and 1773. The Spaniards wanted to control the production of colonial coins so they built this huge structure which covers a whole city block. It is now a beautifully restored museum and has an eclectic collection of religious art, the country's first locomotive, silver coins and the stamps used to make them, all kinds of machinery used in silver production, silver artefacts, a mineral collection and an archaeological display complete with mummies and deformed skulls. I soon gave up trying to translate all our Spanish guide was telling us. Instead we just made our own interpretation and admired the numerous displays.

Ray did his own tour in the afternoon while I did my Episode writing. It cleared up enough for him to walk out of town towards Cerro Rico, the mountain overlooking the town where the majority of the silver mining was done. A popular tourist activity is a tour of a silver mine. These are still worked as a co-operative effort, but the air is so foul that most of the miners die of silicosis after ten years. You have to crawl on your stomach through narrow tunnels with nothing more than a miner’s lamp for light. Ray said the air was full of dust as he walked up the mountain. We elected to skip the tour.

From Potosi we took the bus to Sucre. For once it was an easy, just under three hour trip on paved roads! We are checked into a nice hostel in a quiet area in the center of town. We plan to spend a day or two exploring this historic town. It was once the capital of Bolivia and although La Paz has the majority of government business, Sucre still has the country's courts.

So, our Bolivian adventure continues. We have even come down in altitude quite a bit so the uphill walking is easier. In a few days we will return to Potosi for overnight, then take a long bus ride to La Paz.

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