The bus trundles through the Atacama desert pass, winding along endless desert road and eventually plonking us at San Pedro de Atacama, a little oasis in the middle of nowhere, but seemingly populated with every English person outside of the UK. Tourist central but somehow unspoiled.
We sandboard down dunes, pretty difficult without surf (or as it turns out candle wax) which is needed to get started. Pockets full of sand and sore thighs. We watch the sun go down from the Valle de la Luna. Beautiful red skies over endless desert terrain. All seems perfect until I realise I've lost my credit card, left in a machine. Once it's cancelled, we're down to just one card between us as I've forgotten my other pin number and Becky's debit card is one strike. Doh!
3am the next day and we're waiting for our tour bus to take us to the amazing Tatio Geysers. And at 5am, feeling angry, cold and tired, we return to bed realising it's not turning up for us. The tour company refunds us and gives us a new tour, to the salt lagoons, gratis. An interesting floating experience with pockets of freezing water on top of hot water at our toes. The last pictures from my handycam show us floating in the sun, toes in the air and smiles on our faces. Then the tour guide drops it, leaving it unable to focus. Silently, I pray that my run of bad luck is limited to 3.
And maybe it has, as I meet a couple of fellow countrymen (should that be countrypeople?) over the washing line at the hostel. They're from Crystal Palace, 5mins from where we used to live. They're also called Lee&Lou (pop duo or kids' tv presenters?) and are on honeymoon. They recommend a tour company and before we know it we are booked on a 3 day 4x4 tour to the Bolivian salt plains with them and 9 others. 6 english, 2 dutch, 2 french, 2 czech, 1 spanish in total.
First stop is the Bolivian border control, which should hardly be called that. Much easier-going than the thorough searching of their Chilean counterpart. A bus wreckage I am taking photos of turns out to double as the toilet, as mid-shot a lady stands up to finish her business.
Bolivia feels different immediately. Amazing landscapes, horrendous toilets and local women dressed in a uniform of bright coloured shawls, bowler hats resting on their heads at jaunty angles and long black dusty dresses bulked out with layer upon layer of petticoatage. The people are noticably more shy; either avoiding eye contact altogether or giggling at me to my face. Much to my amusement.
The team bonds as we are driven by our Bolivian guide, Emilio (Estevez), to flamingo populated lakes, bubbling sulphur stinking geyser ponds, salt plains, desert sculpted rocks, volcanoes and endless desert dust.
Disaster strikes as Becky loses / has her camera stolen at a thermal spa. A day in and with so many sights to see, she mourns the loss of her camera and picture-self-sufficiency, as I try to offer mine as a healer.
TV theme tune pop quizzes, Marmite challenges, sharing box wine. ¨Baby duches¨and taut sheets keep our 6 person dorm awake and laughing like teenagers on a sleepover.
We stay in a small village, where the hostel owner's 8 year old wheeler-dealer son harasses us all for shower money. He'll go far. Our mixed nationality football team takes on and narrowly beats the locals. The altitude plays its part, and at 4,000m, our lack of fitness shows as any burst of speed results in a wheezing fit. One highlight shows us all bending over for air as a local 12 year old bursts through to snatch a goal.
An early start on the final day and we are slap bang and sleepy in the middle of 12,000sqkm of salt plain as the sun is rising. The salt is crystalised at our feet in an alien hexagonal pattern and the brilliant white landscape makes me feel like we are in a toothpaste commercial. This craziness continues as we are driven to a salt island covered in cacti. It feels like Spongebob Squarepants might pop up at any moment. We then create team pictures using the white salt plains as our photographic studio backdrop. Funny as hell.
Its Lou's birthday, and arriving at our final destination we celebrate with pizza and wine, presenting a llama-leg-warmer present.
Fantastic!
View ¨Surfing on Sand¨photos here
View ¨Floating on Salt¨photos here
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