Uyuni, Bolivia - Final Day

Early Day
I slept from 8pm to midnight until awakened by the sound of someone vomiting violently.  Our room was at the end of the hall near the toilets.  I slept off and on from there as the vomiting continued for hours.  I imagined that a whole group of people were sick but later learned it was just one poor soul.  We got up at 4am, had a quick breakfast and were on our way to the geysers.

The sun was just peeking over the mountains when we arrived.


Nothing exciting to report.  Sulfurous smells, plumes of smoke, bubbling mud pits.

We stayed for all of ten minutes, we were dazed by the lack of sleep and the brutally cold winds.

Eddie had implored us to wear our bathing suits under our clothes so we could take advantage of the hot springs.  I was the only one who disobeyed, knowing full well I didn't have the drive to suffer the cold on the way into and out of the hot water.  "The water is over 100 degrees!" said Eddie.  Nobody moved, we all just smiled, arms folded, looked at small pool, unprotected from the elements.  I was the first one back in the truck and the rest soon followed.

We had an hour of driving to reach the highest, driest patch of desert in Bolivia.  They'd named it after Salvador Dali, though it's still unclear to me why.

At the border crossing, they unceremoniously dumped our luggage outside the truck and led us to a small shack.  We paid three dollars to be allowed the privilege to leave Bolivia, a great discount from the one hundred and sixty I paid to get in.

Roberto and Eddie said their goodbyes.  It was 9am.  We waited for the mini-van to arrive to take us into Chile.  We huddled on one side of a parked van, trying in vain to escape the wind.  When we finally got in our van it was the first time I'd felt warm in days.