Bolivia - Part Two

Monday 3 - Tuesday 4 July

...1 am Monday morning. I was woken by the mixed sounds of rapid salt-crunching footsteps outside our room, urgent whispers, and loud groans - some of which were emanating from Sharon. Without warning she dashed from the room. And then the devastating stomach cramps hit me.

It emerged that 14 out of the 15 in our group had succumbed to severe food poisoning. No-one slept that night. By dawn, the Salt Hotel's toilets resembled an action painting. I was lucky, suffering merely(?) from explosive diarrhea; others looked to be at death's door. The hotel staff were unsympathetic - "it happens often", they told us as they cheerily prepared a breakfast (fried eggs) that nobody ate.

In varying states of distress, and not daring even to cough, we reluctantly made our way to the jeeps for what should have been an exhilarating day's sightseeing on the way to our destination, Uyuni.

First on the agenda today was the immense, and - in the sunshine - spectacular Salar de Uyuni salt flat. We felt so ill following the jolts and rattles of the journey that we couldn't even exit the jeep to take photos.

By the time we reached the Isla de Pescador (Fisherman Island) a couple of hours later, we needed to force ourselves out to stretch our legs and get some fresh air. This cactus-covered islet rises high above the salt flat and provides incredible views, but the effort of climbing in our weakened state took the shine off the whole experience for us. At least there were much-needed loos here.

"Shall we dance?"

Unsurprisingly, we skipped lunch and continued onward to Uyuni, via a stop at another abandoned trainyard.

At last we arived in Uyuni. Here, our tour operator tried to blame the group's sickeness on everything but the previous evening's meal. Some heated "negotiation" encouraged them to reconsider the evidence, and everyone was offered $5 US in compensation.

For most of the group, Uyuni was the end of the line as many folk were heading on to other destinations from here. For Sharon, me, and a couple of girls from Edinburgh (Cheryl and Jennifer), a further four-hour journey back towards the Chilean border, and San Pedro, awaited.

This four-hour period travelling across anonymous desert in pitch-darkness was the longest of our lives, and on arrival at the tiny village of Villa Mar we gratefully collapsed into bed and slept.

Tuesday 4 July

It was still pitch-dark at 04:45 when our driver roused us to make the onward journey to the Chilean border. Despite the early hour, we all felt a good deal better than we did yesterday; well enough to appreciate the spectacle of the star-studded sky giving way to a Bolivian sunrise.

Thankfully, the long journey back to the Bolivian border was uneventful and we arrived mid-morning to a breakfast of bread rolls and coffee (unbelievably tasty in our desperately hungry state!)

Passports duly stamped, we were on our way back to the relative comforts of Chile and San Pedro. At the Chilean border we unexpectedly met our friend Cordula whom we had last seen in Santiago; we were never happier to see a friendly face!

Back in San Pedro, we booked into a comfortable double-room, took a good hot shower each and headed out to a good restaurant.