The Salar De Uyuni Tour (Day 1)

Image courtesy Alamy to illustrate cholita fashion

Uyuni is a desert town barely more than a mile wide, but serves as an important transit point and gateway for tourism to the world's largest salt flat, Salar De Uyuni. Cholitas huddled in the markets, their knitted woollen shawls worn close to the chin. Their long skirts were pleated over layers on layers of petticoats, distorting their silhouette to liken that of an Elizabethan noblewoman in a farthingale. Bowler hats seemed to balance precariously over the ladies' hair, which was pulled tight in neat buns. Varied wares were displayed on plastic sheeting in the markets, and European tourists in Columbia jackets and Salomon hiking boots rubbed colourful scarves between their fingers, asking if it was indeed made of llama wool. (The queries were warranted; close examination of certain articles would reveal a discrete label "100% Acrylic Made in PRC".) An icy, cutting wind blew dust up from the streets, and it settled on every surface. The locals were in a perpetual state of cleaning, wiping down furniture, wiping down their goods for sale. Clothes constantly emitted little puffs of dust as they were patted, brushed, and shaken, only to regain yet another fine layer of dry, salty earth moments later.

A short way from town lay the Cemeterio De Trenes. Abandoned engines and carriages sat, rusting, in the middle of a garbage-strewn desert. Avid photographers excitedly clambered over the wreckages, and ducked between the seized wheels, and peered at a desolate scenery framed by erratic edges of decaying steel. The potential for creative composition was enormous, but the bitter cold dictated that fifteen minutes was a more than generous amount of time to dedicate to the silent iron giants.

Isla Incahuasi was a sight; an island of rock and cacti in the middle of a vast salt lake. Surprisingly and welcomingly warm, Incahuasi attracted scores of 4WDs from which tired but inspired tourists alighted, and they stripped off their outer layers with relieved sighs. A lunch of llama steak, vegetables, and local rice was unpacked, and provided plenty of sustenance for climbing the island. View points boasted the bleak, infinite nothingness for which the salt flat is famous, and tiny figures could be seen below; tourists posed for trick perspective photographs, facilitated by the endless flats and distant, blurry horizon.

The minerals under the salt crust are of economic importance for Bolivia. The lithium reserves particularly hold global significance as a crucial component in batteries, but it was the salt and salt rock that were sold to the tourists. Figurines carved of salt rock were displayed in makeshift gift shops, and novel "salt hotels", constructed of salt rock bricks, were furnished with tables and benches of salt rock, the chunky pieces set on a thick bed of coarse salt gravel. Exterior temperatures dipped below zero as the sun faded, and the salt hotel did not supply heating or agua caliente. Despite the basic offerings, the hotel provided comfortable beds and thick wool blankets over our sleeping bags, allowing us to enjoy a warm and restful sleep.