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Uyuni: only by heart

I write this article by heart, without even taking a look at the photos I have. If I have them. We will see... And you, reader, at the end of this read will understand what I mean.

Paradoxically, my relationship with the Salar de Uyuni starts right from a photo, at the home of a friend of mine: a great traveler. The photo was not his, but he was consulting an online travel magazine. I see this off-road vehicle perfectly reflected, which seemed to be moving on water and I ask enthusiastically: "Where is this place?" He replies in a little conceited way: "I think it's in Bolivia." But that photo gets stuck in my head.

And that's why I do everything I can to change my Peru (another wonderful country) itinerary and force the Salar de Uyuni into it. I' have seen very little of Bolivia: La Paz (of which I have spoken here) and then the Salar. But it was worth it.

But traveling to Peru and Bolivia on a physical level is not like a walk by the sea. I didn't believe it, but the elevation has its effects, not only when you are actually at a high one. I was sick twice during the trip, even if the first time didn't depend on the elevation.

In short, in Lima (which is on the sea) I start behaving as I was young, wearing short sleeves. But then the temperature drops: the next day in Paracas my temperature rises to 39°. Those were still good times: if you got sick during a trip, alarms didn't start and you weren't seen as a natural disaster. I will talk another time about this story. Anyway, I defeat the fever in a night and the next day I feel like brand new.

I thought it would end there. But no. After an unforgettable day in Puno and on Lake Titicaca, Montezuma (even if he wasn't from that area) has his revenge on me: only one episode. "I passed this too." I think. But no.

The transfer to La Paz the next day goes well overall, but the night kills me. Small problem: I had the flight to Uyuni at six in the morning. I tried to sleep early, that is, like at eight in the evening, but I can't say I did. So I go to Uyuni half asleep, without a hotel room (nobody gives you one at seven in the morning) and with a buzzing threat in my belly.

I land in Uyuni and I can't find the pick-up that I had arranged with the same agency of the Salar day tour. Okay, let's take a taxi: Uyuni airport is very small and very close to the town. When my agency finally opens, I enter and ask if everything is confirmed, since they had not shown up at the airport. The guy inside looks at me and says: but you were supposed to arrive in twenty minutes!

I am an idiot Stray, but also a lucky Stray. The airline had anticipated the flight by about an hour. No emails, no warnings. Laziness saved me: instead of looking on the ticket, the day before I checked the status of the flight on their website, memorizing the new schedule without realizing that it had changed. And somehow I arrived in Uyuni and my tour operator existed!

But it was still early and we had to wait. That agency works mostly with the Japanese. We chose it on the advice of my wife, because she knows that in order to work with Asians, you need to know the best locations to take photos. And in fact, waiting together with us there's this pretty Japanese girl, more or less our age. Now, pretty Japanese girls are not uncommon, Japanese girls who speak good English are already a little less frequent and adventurous ones are quite rare. This one had all three characteristics: she had spent a night alone on the bus to get to Uyuni and would have faced a second crossing the following night. As a first travel companion, I couldn't have wished for a better one. But no. When the other Japanese arrive, they all go together. My wife and I are transferred to another agency with their group.

They are all Asians too. And here I make a very serious error: I mistake them for Japanese, while they are South Koreans. I don't know why, maybe it was because of Montezuma, maybe because of the lack of sleep. Usually I can distinguish them: it is not difficult for one who travels to East Asia frequently. Not only because of the different languages, you can also guess the style of clothing and facial features, when they are in a group. But I'm wrong this time and they're not very happy about it, despite culturally having respect for somebody who is older than them. Yes, the old ones were my wife and me, almost ten years older, although youthful in appearance. I hope so, at least.

But I try to compensate for it immediately: our driver / guide / photographer / cook (he did a bit of everything) is very good at his job, but he doesn't speak half a word of English. And they complain, because they don't speak a half word of Spanish. He tries to explain to them that it was clear that the tour would be in Spanish, obviously they don't understand. Since I was in the mood for good deeds that day, I offer to be a translator from Spanish to English. They are satisfied and stop protesting. But they didn't even speak English, okay...

I realize it after the first stop, the inevitable "Train Cemetery", usually placed as the first attraction on the Salar tour. Here we meet our Japanese friend again, ten seconds of chatter and then she disappears forever. But afterward I find myself with these five noisy South Koreans, who basically do not speak any other language. The nicest one, a beanpole, tries to ask me a question. Obviously, she does not succeed, but I understand that she wanted to take or put something in the car, but the car was not there because our driver had gone to fill-up, while we were at the market with souvenirs.

And I try in every way to explain it, since they were already freaking out, fearing that they were left in the middle of nowhere. In the end I opt for the Italian way: I mime one who turns the steering wheel like children and I ask "Where?" Beanpole utters the unmistakable Korean "hmm, hmm, hmm". Which obviously doesn't have any meaning if written. Trust me, anyway, it meant "yes". And now how do I explain that he went to fill-up? These guys do not understand the word "driver", do I expect them to understand "gas", "petrol" or "fuel"? I go again with gestures, I approach another car (checking that the owner was not there) and I mimic the act of inserting the petrol pump, also making a little noise with my mouth, to imitate that of the flowing fluid. And the girl replies with the other unmistakable "oooooooooooh". Please trust me again, reader, it means "Got it".

But I got it too: I understood that there is no need to translate anything for them, because they just want to take photos. And not just them. But what is this Salar de Uyuni I talk about so much? It is a salt desert of about 10,000 km². In this flat expanse, in some periods of the year, a thin layer of water remains: it allows you to walk on it and creates a real mirror effect. But even where it's dry, it's a sight for the eyes.

In short, we begin to enter the Salar, I sit in the front, also to keep company to the driver, because I am the only one he can converse with. My belly, meanwhile, reminds me that for eight hours I will not find a bathroom. But I know I can do it.

Here, having heard that the expanse is very vast, that with adverse weather conditions it is difficult to find your way around, I imagine that technology will help Tour Operators. And so I supposed that the driver would have a satellite phone with him. Asking too much? Then at least a GPS to know where we are in the desert at all times. But no. Nothing at all: us, the off-road vehicle and the desert. But after a while, I get curious and ask: "how do you find your way?" "Well, do you see that mountain in the background? See that rock? See that cactus? " Good... My tummy rumbles again, but this time it's the concern who speaks. After ten minutes, however, I calm down, also because the day is fantastic, there isn't any cloud in the sky and it doesn't look like my Bolivian friend will get lost today.

Anyway, our handyman tries to give some explanations and I do translations, but in the end I realize that the translation is only for my wife, who can already understand a bit of Spanish. Thus, my translations end up becoming summarized. But it doesn't seem important to our friends: when the guide tells us that two of us can sit on the roof of the off-road vehicle, they rush to take those places and they exchange them in turn. I prefer to avoid stunts or jolts: it is my belly that suggests me to do so.

Between stops, we start taking pictures. Perhaps the funniest thing about Salar de Uyuni is that, being totally flat, you can take wonderful photos with nice perspective games. The drivers know what people like and prepare all the equipment to do it. But you have to give the camera to the driver and he is a human only, he cannot take photos with those of each participant in the group. In short, he says to me: "I'll take photos with this one, then you all share them." Which makes sense, if you don't have to deal with five Busan guys (I love Busan, incidentally) who don't speak English. And my wife quickly understands how this is going to end and begs our kind guide to take some pictures with ours too. At least the ones where it's just her and me.

Then he takes some photos with all the group, he also records some funny videos in which we all must start running when the (toy) dinosaur arrives. My belly wasn't happy about this. And after that, he prepares the table for lunch. This is our moment. We have to explain to our South Korean friends that the two "ajusshi and ajumma" (Korean appellation for two old people like us) need photos and videos. And so we try to exchange e-mail addresses and ways of communication.

One of the guys could speak a little more English and it looked like being quite friendly. But he wasn't the owner of the smartphone, which unfortunately belonged to a girl who felt like being the prettiest of both Koreas and who often returned to the car to put make-up on and whiten her face. "Ouch, it doesn't look good." So my wife focuses on the pleasant beanpole, relying on the fact that in their journey they're planning to visit Rome too. Like this: Busan - Peru - Bolivia - I don't remember where - Rome. "Gangnam style" holidays, even if they don't come from Seoul. My wife works hard and prepares a piece of paper about places where to go to eat in Rome, knowing that they would appreciate it. And they do. But perhaps our whitened and splendid girl had gone to make up again, because I do not remember a thank you from her.

RWe get back in the car and continue with our ride: my belly holds up and it's already a great result.

The white and shining girl then tries to pass immediately these videos and photos with the various technological means, but our smartphones do not talk to each other: she must do it later, since in the desert, of course, there's no signal. "Ouch!" I try to give a reminder again to the guy who speaks more English, but I regret doing so after seeing him running on the salt desert, laughing as if he was drunk, while taking a selfie video.

But in all this, I remembered I had gone there for a mirror photo on the water and, being already May, I had very little hope of succeeding. "It's not the right timing, everything starts drying out in mid-April." I repeated myself

I was wrong: our driver is really an expert and knows the right place. In one area the water remained. He kept this surprise until the end. Here again, photos and videos with all the guys, but I'm sure you may have guessed that all of them are not available to me today. I went to Busan a couple of years later: the city redeemed the lack of courtesy of one of its people. But my wife is still looking for her photos...

Here, I look at them now, I have a few of them, I can show them. But the best memory of the day is within me. My belly understood it too and it didn't dare to get naughty in front of so much splendor.

Some additional information:
As already mentioned, in Uyuni there is a small airport that today (May 2020) operates only domestic flights.

The small city of Uyuni is located at an altitude of over 3600m above sea level, so you may suffer for its elevation.

To visit the Salar de Uyuni, in addition to the day tour, there are multi-day tours that also let you visit other attractions in the area, with the possibility of reaching San Pedro de Atacama in Chile.