Day 3 - Salar de Uyuni to San Pedro de Atacama
For the final day we were up at 4:45am, for breakfast at 5am al punto, ready to leave at 5:30am al punto. Today's was a yummy breakfast of pancakes with dulce de leche and my new favourite drink of hot chocolate with a spoonful of nescafe. It was the start of a lovely sunrise as we left la laguna colorada.
We started with a 30 minute drive to sol de manana geyser, which is home to artificial geysers in addition to the natural ones. In scenes that reminded me of Iceland and Rotorua, there was lots of bubbling sulfur and stinky sulfuric air escaping. The reason they get you up so early is to beat the rush but also so that you catch sunrise at the geyser. Henry warned us to stay a metre away from the geysers.
Philip, king joker, told us that they had told Adrian that this was also the hot springs for bathing. We didn't believe him until Adrian came back to where we were waiting and said "it's really cool, but I couldn't see where people were going in the water", completely deadpan.
Next stop was the hot springs. The guys had been talking about not going in, as they were planning on going in the hot springs at San Pedro de Atacama, but Sal and I were thinking "why not?". When we got there I stuck my hand in and the temperature was perfect. Not too hot but hot enough to warm you up on what was a cold morning. We only had half an hour there, so we quickly bought our tickets for a bargainous 60BOB/60p and got changed in the "rustic" changing room, (with see through curtains) before getting straight in. It was SO nice in the water! The temperature was just perfect. I've been in lots of thermal baths in Iceland but they were just a little bit too hot, so that after a while you had to jump out. I could have sat in this one for days!
Alas, we only had half an hour, but it was a good amount of time to warm us up, while the poor guys stood around in the fresh morning cold.
We drove onwards, passing through the Desierte de Dali. So called because of the colours and arrangement of rocks makes you feel like you've just stepped into amount of Dali painting. Dali never went there though.
Our final stop was la laguna Verde. No flamencos here, but an amazing panorama of the Licanabur volcano, rising to 5000 odd metres, and a natural border between Bolivia and Chile. So called because when the wind rises, the heavy copper deposits in the lake rise to the surface, giving the impression that the lagoon is green. We were there too early in the day to see this, but the views were amazing nonetheless.
We drove even closer to the lagoon and Philip asked if we could take a photo close to the water. We jumped out and I saw Henry come to look at the rear right wheel, the one he had pumped up yesterday. It was flat. No problem for Superhenry though, as he quickly got to work fixing it. His friend also pulled over to help, so within 10 minutes the old wheel was off, the new one on, and we were off to the border.
That 10 minutes made all the difference though, and by the time we got to the Chilean border it was a rush to get us on to our connection to San Pedro de Atacama. Bags off the top of the jeep, quick photo of our trip receipt for the guys to haggle with back at their agency, quick run through immigration, then a very quick photo and hug with Henry as our bus was pulling away without us!
Although we could see the Licanabur volcano from the other side, all the way into San Pedro, the difference between Bolivia and Chile became quickly apparent in the asphalt road we quickly joined on the Chilean side. I couldn't believe we were in Chile! And was a bit sad to leave Bolivia in such a rushed way, as the last 3 days have been so amazing. I've got a lot of love for Bolivia.
But on to San Pedro de Atacama we went. A 40 minute drive later and we were at Chilean immigration, waiting in line to get what we hoped would be a good stamp!
The guys weren't far behind us, and although they had paid a fair bit more for their tour, their guide got them to jump the queue, until the immigration officers decided they wanted to search everyone's rucksacks. We definitely weren't in Bolivia anymore! And our man took great delight in telling us that Australia had beaten England in the rugby on Saturday.
Finally we got going again, all bags back on the bus, for the driver to take us all of 200m down the road to the bus station. We did appreciate it though, as coming down a couple of thousand metres, the temperature had increased drastically. We then had to slog it with our bags all the way down Caracoles, the main street in town, in the blazing sunshine, to find our hostel Casa Campestre, which just happened to be right at the opposite end to where we were.
Philip, king joker, told us that they had told Adrian that this was also the hot springs for bathing. We didn't believe him until Adrian came back to where we were waiting and said "it's really cool, but I couldn't see where people were going in the water", completely deadpan.
Next stop was the hot springs. The guys had been talking about not going in, as they were planning on going in the hot springs at San Pedro de Atacama, but Sal and I were thinking "why not?". When we got there I stuck my hand in and the temperature was perfect. Not too hot but hot enough to warm you up on what was a cold morning. We only had half an hour there, so we quickly bought our tickets for a bargainous 60BOB/60p and got changed in the "rustic" changing room, (with see through curtains) before getting straight in. It was SO nice in the water! The temperature was just perfect. I've been in lots of thermal baths in Iceland but they were just a little bit too hot, so that after a while you had to jump out. I could have sat in this one for days!
Alas, we only had half an hour, but it was a good amount of time to warm us up, while the poor guys stood around in the fresh morning cold.
We drove onwards, passing through the Desierte de Dali. So called because of the colours and arrangement of rocks makes you feel like you've just stepped into amount of Dali painting. Dali never went there though.
Our final stop was la laguna Verde. No flamencos here, but an amazing panorama of the Licanabur volcano, rising to 5000 odd metres, and a natural border between Bolivia and Chile. So called because when the wind rises, the heavy copper deposits in the lake rise to the surface, giving the impression that the lagoon is green. We were there too early in the day to see this, but the views were amazing nonetheless.
We drove even closer to the lagoon and Philip asked if we could take a photo close to the water. We jumped out and I saw Henry come to look at the rear right wheel, the one he had pumped up yesterday. It was flat. No problem for Superhenry though, as he quickly got to work fixing it. His friend also pulled over to help, so within 10 minutes the old wheel was off, the new one on, and we were off to the border.
That 10 minutes made all the difference though, and by the time we got to the Chilean border it was a rush to get us on to our connection to San Pedro de Atacama. Bags off the top of the jeep, quick photo of our trip receipt for the guys to haggle with back at their agency, quick run through immigration, then a very quick photo and hug with Henry as our bus was pulling away without us!
Although we could see the Licanabur volcano from the other side, all the way into San Pedro, the difference between Bolivia and Chile became quickly apparent in the asphalt road we quickly joined on the Chilean side. I couldn't believe we were in Chile! And was a bit sad to leave Bolivia in such a rushed way, as the last 3 days have been so amazing. I've got a lot of love for Bolivia.
But on to San Pedro de Atacama we went. A 40 minute drive later and we were at Chilean immigration, waiting in line to get what we hoped would be a good stamp!
The guys weren't far behind us, and although they had paid a fair bit more for their tour, their guide got them to jump the queue, until the immigration officers decided they wanted to search everyone's rucksacks. We definitely weren't in Bolivia anymore! And our man took great delight in telling us that Australia had beaten England in the rugby on Saturday.
Finally we got going again, all bags back on the bus, for the driver to take us all of 200m down the road to the bus station. We did appreciate it though, as coming down a couple of thousand metres, the temperature had increased drastically. We then had to slog it with our bags all the way down Caracoles, the main street in town, in the blazing sunshine, to find our hostel Casa Campestre, which just happened to be right at the opposite end to where we were.
Comments
Post a Comment