Salar de Uyuni to San Pedro de Atacama over Hito Cajón: Bolivia 4x4 — Bolivia Part 2 of 2

Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia: Waiting out a salt-flat recovery with Hergé's Andean two-parter, The Seven Crystal Balls and Prisoners of the Sun, open on the world's largest salt flat

Alright, buckle up, buttercups. After we finished part one of our Bolivian bonanza - which involved not falling out of a reed boat on Lake Titicaca and staring at ancient rocks in Tiwanaku (seriously, go read Part 1, it's good for you) - we pointed our travel-hungry noses toward Uyuni. The mission? To drive across the world's largest salt flat, the Salar de Uyuni, like a bunch of modern-day explorers, but with significantly less dysentery and much better Instagram opportunities. This included sleeping in hotels made of salt (licking the walls is optional, but tempting) and a multi-day, off-road 4x4 saga across the Andes altiplano and the Atacama Desert, all the way into Chile. It was less "Thelma & Louise" and more "Family Truckster on a geologic bender."

Bolivia Part 2 — Post Summary

This second half of our Bolivian journey crosses the Salar de Uyuni, the world's largest salt flat, then climbs south across the Andes Altiplano through coloured lagoons, steaming geysers and the Salvador Dalí Desert, before crossing the Hito Cajón pass into Chile and the Atacama town of San Pedro de Atacama. Five days, two countries, and roughly 700 kilometres of salt, sand and altitude.

What's Covered
🧭	December 28 — Arrival at Uyuni — Flight from La Paz, first drive onto the Salar de Uyuni, sunset on the mirror flats
🚂	December 29 — Uyuni to the salt crust — Train Cemetery, Ojos de Agua springs, Dakar monument, Isla Incahuasi cacti, and getting three 4x4s stuck on the salt
🌋	December 30 — Across the Altiplano — Julaca, Estancia Chakha, Volcán Ollagüe, the coloured lagoons, Siloli Desert, and Laguna Colorada in the Eduardo Avaroa reserve
♨️	December 31 — Geysers, Dalí Desert, into Chile — Sol de Mañana geothermal field, Termas de Polques hot springs, the Salvador Dalí Desert, Licancabur, and the Hito Cajón border into Chile
🔭	January 1 — San Pedro de Atacama — Atacama stargazing tour, the old plaza and church, and the Ruta del Desierto drive to Calama

Here is a map of this part of our trip. we promise it's more exciting than the map of your local mall.

December 28, 2022

10:30

Uyuni, Bolivia (20.4° S, 66.8° W, altitude 12,024 feet)

Our day started with the kind of enthusiasm usually reserved for root canals. We dragged ourselves out of bed at 4 AM for a 7:30 AM flight on Boliviana De Aviación from La Paz to Uyuni. Why so early? Because getting into Bolivia took approximately three ice ages at immigration (a thrilling saga detailed here), and we weren't taking any chances. The check-in agent was confused we didn't have a guide and assigned us a minder, who periodically checked on us like we were escape-risk toddlers. The flight itself was lovely, with a layover in Cochabamba, though they confiscated our last aerosol of Lysol, declaring it a "fire hazard." We guess they've never seen us try to cook. The real show began on final approach to Uyuni's Joya Andina (Jewel of the Andes) airport, where we got our first mind-bending glimpse of the Salar de Uyuni - a salt flat so vast it could swallow the entire country of Lebanon and still have room for dessert.

Uyuni Joya Andina Airport Final Approach
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bzoal_4_V1s

The Altiplano

Welcome to the Altiplano, a high plateau set between the eastern and western cordilleras of the Andes, averaging about 12,000 feet in elevation. It is a complex basin that's been filling up with sediment, volcanic ash, and evaporated goodness for millions of years. The Salar de Uyuni is its crowning, salty jewel. It was formed when a giant prehistoric lake, Lake Minchin (and later Lake Tauca), evaporated like a forgotten puddle, leaving behind a crust of salt up to 30 feet thick in places. Beneath that crust? A soupy brine rich in lithium, magnesium, potassium, and boron. In fact, this single salt flat holds over half the world's known lithium reserves. So, when you're charging your fancy electric car, thank this bizarre, beautiful, and brutally bright white desert in Bolivia.

Salar de Uyuni from final approach to Uyuni Airport, Bolivia: Aerial view of the vast white expanse from the airplane window

The hospitality was top-notch, a genuine warmth that feels different from the scripted nice-ness you often get elsewhere. We collected our bags (miraculously, all there) and found our driver holding a placard outside. We were whisked away in a Toyota Land Cruiser toward our home for the night: the legendary, salt-constructed Hotel Luna Salada de Sal & Spa. On the way out of town, we passed a manual security checkpoint/toll booth where the attendant had to physically heave a lever to open the gate for each car. It was a solid bicep workout and probably the most secure gate in Bolivia, given the effort required.

Arriving at Uyuni's Joya Andina airport, Bolivia.

The Town of Uyuni

Perched at a breath-stealing 12,000 feet, Uyuni wasn't always a tourism hub. It started as a trading post in the 1880s, thanks to its location at the intersection of trade routes from Argentina, Chile, and the Bolivian mines. The name itself is a small history lesson: salar is Spanish for a salt pan, while Uyuni is Aymara for an enclosure, a reference to the llama pens that once dotted this corner of the Altiplano. Its real boom came with the railroads in the late 19th century, built primarily to haul silver and other minerals from the Potosí region to Pacific ports. That history is now literally rusting in its famous Train Cemetery. The town itself is a hardy, wind-swept place where the buildings are low and the people are resilient, having adapted to extreme conditions, economic shifts, and the whims of international mining markets. Today, its economy is buoyed by salt, lithium, and the endless stream of tourists like us coming to gawk at the great white nothing.

Checkpoint on Bolivia Ruta 30 towards Colchani from Uyuni: Manual gate control on the road out of town

The hotel was a half-hour drive northwest of the airport. The route took us on Ruta F30 and then onto a dusty, deserted dirt road from the village of Colchani. The area was eerily quiet, with closed gift shops - a sad, silent testimony to the gut-punch COVID-19 dealt to local tourism worldwide. It felt like driving through the set of a post-apocalyptic movie, but with better scenery.

The dusty road from Colchani out to the salt hotel.

Hotel De Sal Luna Salada: the hotel made of salt

Hotel De Sal Luna Salada, Uyuni, Bolivia: The Hotel Made of Salt - Wide panoramic shot of the hotel exterior

This place had been on our bucket list ever since National Geographic taunted us with this video back in 2015. A hotel made of salt? On the edge of the world's largest salt flat? Sign us up. We finally saw the sign on the dirt road, took a right, and climbed a hill to find this architectural marvel made of compressed salt bricks, salt mortar, salt floors, salt furniture... you get the idea. It's like the Gingerbread House, but for people with high blood pressure.

Natgeo coverage of Hotel Luna Salada

Building a Hotel from Salt

Building with salt is a practical use of the most abundant local material. The blocks are cut from the Salar, compressed, and bonded with a slurry of salt and water (effectively making a "salt cement"). The first salt hotel, Palacio de Sal, opened in the mid-90s but faced environmental issues (imagine the sewage system... or don't). Newer hotels like Luna Salada and Cruz Andina have more sustainable designs. The thermal properties are interesting: salt is a poor insulator, but the thick walls and incorporation of local volcanic rock (which absorbs daytime heat) help moderate the extreme temperature swings of the altiplano. Staying here is a lesson in adaptive architecture, where necessity and novelty meet in a crusty, crunchy, and surprisingly cozy package.

The desert approach to the salt-brick Hotel de Sal Luna Salada.

Walking into the lobby was like entering a giant salt shaker designed by a very literal-minded architect. The floor crunched, the walls were gritty, the columns were lumpy, and even the couches dared you to lick them. And right outside the windows, stretching to infinity, was the Salar itself. It was utterly bizarre and completely awesome.

Inside the salt-built Hotel de Sal Luna Salada — lobby and lounges.

The hotel was enormous. Our family suite, which was basically a small salt-brick mansion, was a ten-minute hike away at the other end of the building. Thank every deity ever imagined for the bellhop, because dragging luggage at 12,000 feet is a special kind of torture. The guy earned his tip just by breathing normally while carrying our stuff.

More salt-brick interiors of the Hotel de Sal Luna Salada.

On the way to our suite, we passed lounges and cozy nooks with jaw-dropping views of the Salar. The floor was loose granular salt with laminate walkways - presumably to prevent guests from leaving a trail of white footprints like confused ghosts. The walls were solid salt bricks, held together with what we can only assume was salty determination.

Salt-brick halls, lounges and decor of the Hotel de Sal Luna Salada.

The hotel was also a museum of traditional Bolivian crafts, with beautiful artifacts everywhere. We spotted llamas and alpacas made of reed, reminding us of the incredible reed boat craftsmanship we saw on Lake Titicaca (seriously, go read Part 1, the plugging never ends).

Further salt-block interiors of the Hotel de Sal Luna Salada.

The family suite was practically its own zip code, with a private hallway, two bedrooms, and spacious living areas. It was the salt-brick palace of our dreams.

Yet more interior views of the salt-built Hotel de Sal Luna Salada.

Even the king-sized beds were made of salt. We're not kidding. The headboard was a solid slab of the stuff. Luckily, there was enough laminate flooring to prevent midnight bathroom trips from turning into a painful salt-granule foot massage.

Hotel De Sal Luna Salada, Uyuni, Bolivia: The Hotel Made of Salt - Close-up of the salt-block headboard in the bedroom

Colchani

14:02

Colchani, Bolivia: The small salt-processing village on the edge of the Salar de Uyuni

We headed back to the village of Colchani, a speck on the map with a population just over 1000. For centuries, the Quechua people here have survived by harvesting salt, a back-breaking tradition that once involved llama caravans trekking over 350 miles across the Andes Altiplano to barter for essentials. Think of it as the original DoorDash, but with more spitting and way slower delivery times.

Colchani, Bolivia: Street view of the village with traditional buildings and salt-processing facilities

Now, things are a bit more modern. There's a cooperative, some machinery for iodization (because goiters are so last century), and trucks to ship the salt to Bolivia and beyond (Brazil is a big fan). We took a tour of a salt factory, which was less Willy Wonka and more "Science of Stuff That Makes Fries Taste Good."

Salt Bricks with layers showing rainfall: Stacked salt blocks displaying dark bands that indicate ancient rainfall patterns

The Salt of the Earth

Let's geek out on salt for a second. The Salar de Uyuni is deeper and stranger than it looks. The salt we drive on is a surface crust only a few metres thick, roughly five metres on average, but it caps a far deeper sequence. A borehole drilled near the centre passed through about 120 metres of alternating salt and lakebed mud, a dozen salt layers stacked between old sediments, before reaching the basin floor. All of it spreads across more than 4,086 square miles, larger than some countries, and holds an estimated 10 billion tonnes of salt. The Colchani cooperative extracts about 25,000 tonnes annually, which is like taking a single grain from a beach. The salt forms in distinct layers, each representing different climatic periods. The dark bands you see in salt bricks? Those are ancient rainfall, trapped in time like geologic tree rings. And it's not just table salt. This place is a treasure trove of lithium, potassium, boron, and magnesium. The "Lithium Triangle" of Bolivia, Chile, and Argentina holds about 75% of the world's lithium reserves, and the Salar de Uyuni is its crown jewel. Those compressed salt bricks aren't just for show; they're a legitimate, durable, and locally-sourced construction material used all over the region.

• The surface crust of the Salar is only a few metres thick, but it caps roughly 120 metres of alternating salt and mud layers before the basin floor.
• The largest salt flat in the world, the Salar covers an area of over 4,086 square miles.
• Of the at least 11 billion tonnes of salt in the Salar, 25,000 tonnes are extracted and processed every year at Colchani.
• There are 11 layers of salt ranging from 6 to 60 feet deep each. The top layer is around 32 feet.
• Rainwater results in salty brine collecting between the layers. The dark bands in blocks of extracted salt represent rainfall.
• Evaporating salt lakes 40,000 and 12,000 years ago left behind concentrated minerals in the Salar, including potassium, boron, magnesium and lithium.
• Salar de Uyuni by itself contains over half of the planet's lithium. Along with Salar del Hombre Muerto, Argentina and Salar de Atacama, Chile, 75% of the world's lithium deposits are in the salt lakes of the Andes altiplano.
• Compressed salt bricks are used for construction, including other salt hotels and buildings around the Salar.

Inside the salt-processing works at Colchani.

The factory also had a display of local mineral rocks, including Pyrite (FeS₂), aka "fool's gold." You could buy plastic-wrapped chunks, little bags of Salar salt, and hand-sculpted salt figurines. It was the world's most mineral-rich gift shop.

Volcanic mineral rock at the Colchani salt factory.

Beyond the factory, Colchani boasts a Salt Museum and shops selling gorgeous, authentic llama and alpaca wool gear, hats, and handicrafts. We went full-on local and bought a llama wool poncho and a traditional hat, which we wore for the rest of the trip like a proud, slightly itchy, tourist. My wife picked up some delicate salt sculptures, which survived the journey home with the fragility of grenades.

The salt museum at Colchani, built of salt blocks.

Life on the Salar's Edge

Life in villages like Colchani is a masterclass in adaptation. The Quechua communities here have a symbiotic relationship with the Salar. The old story reaches Colchani too: in one telling, Tunupa's suitors seized her child and hid him here, and the low hills above the village are said to mark where the lost baby lies. They don't just extract salt; they understand its rhythms - the dry season for harvesting, the wet season when the flat becomes a mirror and tourism shifts. Their economy is a three-legged stool: traditional salt gathering, burgeoning lithium industry jobs (though this brings complex issues of foreign investment and environmental impact), and tourism. The handicrafts - woven textiles, salt sculptures - are not just souvenirs but a continuation of artistic traditions and an important income stream. Eating in a local diner made of salt bricks means participating in an economy that has creatively turned its primary challenge (isolation, a harsh environment) into its unique selling point.

Llama wool poncho and traditional Bolivian hat purchased in Colchani: Traditional textiles bought as souvenirs

Before leaving, we had a fantastic lunch at a local salt-brick diner next to the museum. The food was hearty and delicious, proof that Bolivian cuisine can make anything taste good, even when you're sitting in a building you're technically seasoning just by being there.

A salt-brick roadside diner beside the Colchani salt museum.

What really is the Salar de Uyuni?

https://youtu.be/7_qJ_sST3fs

According to National Geographic, "Bolivia's Salar de Uyuni is considered one of the most extreme and remarkable vistas in all of South America, if not Earth. Stretching more than 4,050 square miles of the Altiplano, it is the world's largest salt flat, left behind by prehistoric lakes evaporated long ago. Here, a thick crust of salt extends to the horizon, covered by quilted, polygonal patterns of salt rising from the ground.

At certain times of the year, nearby lakes overflow and a thin layer of water transforms the flats into a mirror reflection of the sky. This beautiful and otherworldly terrain serves as a lucrative extraction site for salt and lithium - the element responsible for powering laptops, smart phones, and electric cars. In addition to local workers who harvest these minerals, the region is home to the world's first salt hotel and populated by road-tripping tourists. The harsh beauty and desolateness of Salar de Uyuni can make for an incredible experience or a logistical nightmare."

Discovery Channel says, "Salar de Uyuni is the World's Largest Natural Mirror."

"It is so boundless and bright white that Neil Armstrong is said to have mistaken it for an enormous glacier seen from space," adds China Global Television Network.

So, in short, it's a giant, reflective, lithium-filled, astronaut-confusing, salt-crusted pancake. And it's magnificent.

The Star Wars Connection

A Galaxy Far, Far Away, in Bolivia

Yes, you read that right. The stark, white and red expanse of the salt flat was the perfect stand-in for the mineral planet Crait in Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Episode VIII). The official databank describes Crait as an abandoned Rebel base, a mining installation turned fortress. It's poetic, really. The Salar, a place of real mineral extraction and extreme isolation, playing the role of a hidden rebel outpost in a fictional galaxy. It adds a layer of modern myth to an already ancient place. Beyond Star Wars, the Salar features in other films and countless documentaries, its otherworldliness making it a go-to for directors needing "not of this Earth" scenery. It's a place where reality is so strange, it passes for science fiction.

The Salar de Uyuni was the shooting location for Crait.

Star Wars scene filmed on the Salar de Uyuni salt flats: The red and white terrain of Crait from Episode VIII

Volcán Thunupa (Tunupa Volcano) and Mummies of Coqueza

15:30

Tunupa, the Sleeping Giant

Towering over the northern edge of the Salar at 17,457 feet is the dormant volcano Tunupa. The mountain is a central figure in local mythology, not merely scenery. One legend says Tunupa was a beautiful, powerful woman (or a god, depending on the version) who wept tears of milk after being wronged, creating the salt flat. Another says the mountain is a protective deity. Its slopes created an "island" in the salt desert, where villages like Coqueza (population: fewer than 70 incredibly tough people) cling to existence at 12,103 feet. For the ancient Aymara and later cultures, volcanoes were not just geological features; they were Apus - sacred mountain spirits, sources of water, life, and divine power. Tunupa dominates the horizon physically and spiritually.

The Aymara tell why. In their story the mountains ringing the salar, Tunupa, Kusku and Kusina, were once giants. Tunupa married Kusku, but he ran off with Kusina, and as the abandoned Tunupa wept while nursing her infant, her tears mixed with her breast milk and flooded the basin to make the salt flat. Many locals hold the place should really be called Salar de Tunupa, and to them the volcano is not scenery but the grieving goddess herself.

After lunch, we drove straight onto the Salar toward Tunupa. We hit the jackpot: an area of shallow standing water, turning the flats into the famous sky-mirror. It was like driving on the clouds.

Mirror reflections on the flooded Salar de Uyuni.

We reached the island with the colossal, snow-dusted crater of Tunupa looming over us. It was humbling, like being judged by a silent, ancient god made of rock and ice.

View of the (snow-capped in winter) Tunupa Volcano from the island: Volcano dominating the horizon

Next to the crater was a rainbow mountain, its stripes of mineral-rich hues looking like a painter went wild on the slope. Nature's abstract art at 16,000 feet.

Colorful Rainbow Mountain adjacent to Tunupa Volcano: Striated mineral deposits creating a rainbow effect on the mountainside

In Coqueza, we bought tickets from the community tourism association (a gatekeeper in the literal sense) for the hike to Las momias de coqueza.

Coqueza village on the salt flat — llamas, salt-brick homes and volcano views.

We drove up to the trailhead. The country was barren, epic, and empty. Signs for zip lines and hot air balloons stood like lonely sentinels of a pre-pandemic tourism boom.

The barren trail toward the mummy cave above Coqueza.

The hike up was short but steep. We passed towering Trichocereus giant cactus, ancient survivors in a land of rock and salt.

The cactus-lined climb to the Cave of the Mummies.

Las momias de Coqueza: the mummies of Coqueza (The Cave of the Mummies)

Grocery of the Mums of Coqueza

17:30

Informational sign titled 'Grocery of the Mums of Coqueza' at the cave entrance: Educational sign explaining the mummy cave

The sign at the entrance, hilariously titled "Grocery of the Mums of Coqueza," explained that these are ancient burials (chullpares) of important figures from the Lordship of the Greater Land of Los Lipez. Our guide, Juan, explained that "grocery of the mums" refers to the Aymara and Inca tradition of sharing meals with mummified ancestors and leaving them food and gifts - a practice that views death not as an end, but as a continuation of community. It's a perspective that's both haunting and beautiful.

The Andean Relationship with Death

The mummies of Coqueza are a profound window into Andean cosmology. Ancient civilizations here were practicing mummification at least 2,000 years before the Egyptians got famous for it. For the Aymara, Tiwanaku, and Inca cultures, death was not a separation. The deceased, especially important ancestors, remained active members of the community - mallquis. They were consulted, fed, given drink (including chicha, corn beer), and included in celebrations. Their mummified bodies were kept in above-ground tombs or caves (chullpas) like this one. The Spanish conquest brutally disrupted this, desecrating tombs in search of gold and scattering bones. The fact that this cave remained undisturbed is a minor miracle. These were not passive tombs. In the Lípez chullpa tradition the dead remained part of the community: relatives brought food, chicha and offerings to the chamber, and through a ritual of pouring, burning and burying the ancestors were understood to share in them. The ceramic vessels around the remains are the physical evidence of that ongoing relationship.

We entered the cave. A sliver of light pierced through a grilled hole, and a curious chinchilla peered in at us. The atmosphere was immediately heavy, silent, and profoundly peaceful.

Light filtering into the cave through a grilled opening: Sunlight entering the dark cave interior

Inside rock-cut chambers were the mummified remains of six individuals, curled in the fetal position, wrapped in straw, leaves, and textiles. They had been here, untouched, for over 500 years. We could clearly make out six of them in the chamber; the Coqueza people know where a seventh also lies. Their hair, clothing, and peaceful poses were preserved. There was no smell of decay, just the musty scent of ancient stone and dry earth.

One of the mummified individuals in a fetal position inside a rock chamber: Ancient mummy preserved in a natural cave tomb

It wasn't scary or morbid. It was calm, almost meditative. You felt a connection to deep time, to the cycle of everything. It was sad, tranquil, and strangely hopeful, all at once.

Ancient mummified remains and offerings inside the burial cave.

One chamber held a woman and two children. Seeing the little ones was heart-wrenching. What story ended here, 500 years ago?

Chamber containing the mummies of a woman and two children: Family group burial in the cave

Surrounding the mummies were earthen jars, plates, and bowls. On the floor in front of them, people had left modern offerings: wine, food, coins, and even cigarettes. In this cave, the past isn't locked away; it's invited for a smoke and a drink.

Offerings of food, wine, and money left for the mummified ancestors: Modern offerings placed in the ancient burial cave

Sunset over Salar de Uyuni

18:12

We wished peace to the ancient souls in the cave, said goodbye to the brooding Tunupa, and headed back across the Salar towards Uyuni. Our guide, Nelson, found another patch of shallow water for photos. We attempted some hilarious "extreme perspective" shots, making one of us stand on a hat and another on a shoulder. The results were less "artistic masterpiece" and more "family with a poor grasp of physics." But sunset? Sunset on the Salar was pure, unfiltered magic. The sky exploded in colors that reflected perfectly on the watery mirror, turning the world into a kaleidoscope of fire and gold.

Sunset colours across the Salar de Uyuni.

We wrapped up the day with a delicious Bolivian dinner in Uyuni, picked up supplies for our upcoming off-road odyssey, and returned to our salty palace, ready to collapse. The next few days, we were promised, would be unforgettable. They had no idea.

Huge Natural Crystalline Patterns on Salt Crust

The salt flat is far from featureless. It is covered in massive polygonal patterns, a giant honeycomb of raised salt ridges, each cell one to two metres across and some big enough to park a couple of 4x4s inside. For years the obvious explanation was drying and cracking, like mud shrinking in the sun. In 2023 a team publishing in Physical Review X showed the real cause runs deeper: brine circulates in slow, doughnut-shaped convection cells beneath the crust, and where the saltier, denser water sinks it draws up the ridges that outline each cell. The honeycomb is written from below, not cracked from above.

The Salar's natural polygonal salt formations.

December 29, 2022

08:30

A country in turmoil

Protests Turn Violent in Bolivia Amid a Political Crisis

Ah, travel. Just when you think you've got it figured out, a country decides to have a political meltdown. We were supposed to be picked up at 8:30 AM, but our guide Nelson called: there was a gasoline shortage because protesters in Santa Cruz were burning cars and clashing with police after the arrest of a governor. You know, normal Tuesday stuff. Having just escaped similar chaos in Peru, we briefly considered bailing to Chile. But the part of Bolivia we were in felt peacefully disconnected from it all. We decided to roll the dice. Spoiler: best decision ever.

09:30

The folks at Expediciones Mammut worked miracles, found gas, and sent their Japanese colleague Masayuki-san in a Toyota Tundra to get us. He didn't even bother with roads, just charged diagonally across the terrain and hopped onto the highway like it was a mild suggestion. We were taken to their office in Uyuni to sort out logistics, which gave us time to wander the town center.

Driving across open terrain near Uyuni: Toyota Tundra driving off-road to reach us during the fuel crisis

Bolivia's Political History

Bolivia's history weaves together indigenous civilizations, brutal Spanish colonization, a struggle for independence, and persistent political instability. The tensions often center on the distribution of wealth from natural resources (like gas and lithium), regional autonomy (the lowland department of Santa Cruz vs. the highland government in La Paz), and the rights of the indigenous majority. The 2019 political crisis, the 2020 elections, and the 2022 protests we encountered are all chapters in this ongoing story. Traveling here requires an understanding that you're in a living, breathing nation working through deep-seated challenges, not merely a scenic backdrop. The resilience and warmth of the Bolivian people in the face of this uncertainty is perhaps the most impressive sight of all.

A tour operator's office in the town of Uyuni.

We wandered down the main street and found a busy marketplace next to a military regiment. It was a riot of colors, smells, and sounds - vendors selling everything from Bluetooth speakers to fresh fish. We bought peanuts because when in doubt, snack. Mornings in Uyuni meant salteñas, juicy meat-filled pastries with a sweet-and-savoury broth inside, sold from stalls and gone by midday. Messy to eat standing up, and worth it.

Market-day streets in the town of Uyuni.

Soon, the call came. Logistics were sorted. We jumped into Nelson's Nissan Patrol and set off for our first official day of off-roading.

Bolivia's Train Cemetery: The Great Train Graveyard at Uyuni

11:21

https://youtu.be/CZZyEhhW2UU

Rails to Rust

The Train Cemetery is a monument to boom, bust, and geopolitical drama. In the late 19th century, Bolivia had big dreams of being a mineral export powerhouse. British engineers built railroads to connect the mines of the Altiplano to the Pacific port of Antofagasta. President Aniceto Arce inaugurated the line to Uyuni in 1890 with great fanfare. But then came the War of the Pacific (1879-1884), where Bolivia and Peru lost to Chile. Bolivia lost its coastline and Antofagasta. Suddenly, the railroad was a line to nowhere. The trains, mostly British-built steam locomotives, were abandoned where they stood. The salt air accelerated their decay into the surreal, rusting sculptures you see today. It's a poignant place, a monument to ambition, the cruel turns of history, and the relentless power of nature to reclaim human endeavors.

This place is seriously weird. It's a sprawling junkyard of rusting steam locomotives and rail cars from the late 1800s, slowly being consumed by the salt and wind. It's like a post-apocalyptic playground or a heavy metal album cover come to life. The story is sad: Bolivia built this railroad for mineral exports, then lost its coastline to Chile in the War of the Pacific, rendering the trains useless. Now they're a wildly popular tourist attraction. Irony, thy name is rust.

The Train Cemetery — Uyuni's graveyard of rusting locomotives.

Return to Salar de Uyuni

From the graveyard of the past, we returned to the blinding white present of the Salar. This was it: the start of our three-day off-road adventure across the roof of the Andes.

Nissan Patrol - 4x4 offroad tour of Salar de Uyuni and Bolivian Andes Altiplano: Our tour vehicle ready for adventure

Ojos de Agua - Eyes of Water

12:43

https://youtu.be/PQkW2jGdUAc

The Salar's Cold Springs

The Ojos de Agua are fascinating geothermal... well, cryothermal features. Mineral-rich water, flowing in underground channels beneath the massive salt crust, finds weak spots to escape. The pressure release causes it to bubble up to the surface like a cold spring. They look like little volcanic mud pots but are just chilly. The strong metallic smell on your hands after touching the water is a direct sniff of the Salar's rich interior cocktail of lithium, magnesium, and other dissolved minerals. It's a reminder that this vast, solid-looking plain is dynamic, with hidden aquatic life beneath its feet-thick skin.

In the middle of this vast, solid-looking desert, there are random bubbling pools of water. They're called Ojos de Agua - Eyes of Water - and they're formed by mineral-rich water escaping from beneath the salt crust. They bubble away like tiny, cold Jacuzzis built by geology. We dipped our hands in, and they came out smelling strongly of metal, like we'd been fondling old pennies. The Salar was literally letting us smell its minerals. How considerate.

Ojos de Agua, the bubbling 'eyes of water' on the Salar.

Monumento al Dakar: Dakar Monument

12:56

The Dakar Monument on the salt flats: Salt sculpture commemorating the Dakar Rally stage

In 2015, the infamous Dakar Rally routed its eighth stage right across the Salar de Uyuni to Iquique, Chile. The drivers flagged off here on Jan. 11, 2015, probably wondering why they were racing across a giant salt shaker at 12,000 feet. To commemorate this feat of vehicular madness, there's a monument made of salt. Because of course there is.

Dakar Monument: Monumento al Dakar, Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia, 29-DEC-2022: Close-up of the Dakar Monument salt sculpture

Behind the monument is the old, abandoned Hotel de Sal Playa Blanca. Inside, two salt pillars are plastered with stickers from high-performance automotive brands, left by rally teams and fans. It's like a shrine to speed, built out of the slowest-forming material on Earth.

Playa Blanca has a claim the newer salt hotels do not: built in 1993, it was the first of them, a fifteen-room lodge raised in the middle of the flat. That was also its undoing. With no way to manage waste out here but to haul it away by hand, the sewage began threatening the salar itself, and around 2002 the hotel was dismantled. The rule changed with it, and salt hotels must now sit on the periphery, which is exactly why Luna Salada and Palacio de Sal cluster on the eastern edge near Colchani rather than out here on the crust.

The salt-pillar Dakar Rally memorial on the Salar.

Plaza de las Banderas: Flag Square

12:59

Near the Dakar monument is a raised salt platform called the Plaza de las Banderas - Flag Square. Dozens of national flags fly from poles, often several to a pole. It's a tradition for visitors to place their country's flag here. We saw Old Glory flying proudly (at least twice), and it was incredibly moving to see the blue and yellow of Ukraine sharing a pole with Venezuela and Panama. In the middle of the Bolivian desert, a symbol of defiance and courage fluttered in the thin, high-altitude wind.

Plaza de las Banderas, the flag square out on the salt flats.

Hotel de Sal Playa Blanca, Salar de Uyuni

The original old abandoned Hotel Palacio de Sal

13:07

Historic photo of the original Hotel Palacio de Sal: Early salt hotel that pioneered salt-block construction

This is the OG salt hotel, built in the mid-1990s. It had 12 double rooms and a shared bathroom with no shower. The influx of tourists overwhelmed its primitive sewage system, causing an environmental mess. It was shut down in 2002. Now called Hotel de Sal Playa Blanca, it's used as a lunch stop. We ate here, surrounded by the impressive, slightly crumbling, salt sculptures of a bygone tourism era. A newer hotel with the same name exists elsewhere, because nothing can be simple.

Playa Blanca, the original salt hotel on the Salar.

Stuck on the Salar de Uyuni Salt Flats

14:20

https://youtu.be/K2FbER_ypO0

And now, the main event. The Salar, for all its beauty, is a sneaky, treacherous beast. The salt crust can be deceptively thin. Our trusty Nissan Patrol found one of those weak spots. With a sickening crunch, it broke through into the soft, wet, sludgy mud beneath. We were stuck. Properly, hilariously, epically stuck.

A 4x4 bogged in the soft salt crust of the Salar.

Nelson tried valiantly to free it. No dice. He climbed on the roof, got a bar of signal, and called the office. We relaxed on the salt, turning our vehicular crisis into a bizarre picnic.

Waiting on the salt flat for rescue.

14:49

Help arrived! Masayuki-san and Luz in the Toyota Tundra. The Tundra promptly also broke through the crust and got stuck. We now had two vehicles immobilized. They had tools - wooden poles, blocks, jacks - and attempted a heroic rescue. The Patrol got out briefly, then immediately sank again. It was like watching a nature documentary where the prey almost escapes.

Stuck in the Salar de Uyuni Salt Flats, Bolivia: Attempting to free the stuck vehicle with recovery equipment

15:20

A third vehicle, a Toyota Land Cruiser, appeared on the horizon like a heroic mirage. It drove toward us... and also crashed through the crust, wheels deep in slush. Three vehicles. Stuck. It was a comedy of errors written by the Salar itself.

While we waited, we read Tintin. Fittingly, it was Hergé's Andean two-parter, The Seven Crystal Balls and its sequel Prisoners of the Sun. Those are the very books that sent Tintin chasing a kidnapped professor through exactly this part of the world. What struck us, sitting on the salt, was how much Hergé got right without ever leaving Belgium. He built the Temple of the Sun from real places. Among them were the great fortress of Sacsayhuamán, the ruins of Tiwanaku we had walked through only days earlier, and the terraces of Machu Picchu. He worked from museum visits, a 1938 National Geographic, and photographs of Hiram Bingham's expeditions. The scenery and monuments are startlingly faithful. The Inca details, admittedly, are a comic-book blend. Pre-Inca artwork stands in for Inca, a little Maya creeps in, and the eclipse is drawn back-to-front for the southern sky. But for two travellers crossing the same altiplano he had only ever imagined, the resemblance was uncanny.

A third vehicle stuck fast in the Salar.

Luz spotted a distant motorcycle and with us in tow waving like maniacs, flagged down the biker. After a quick chat, she hopped on and they sped off toward Uyuni to get more help. We were living in an adventure movie.

17:10

A solid patch of salt crust was identified some distance away. Our luggage, gas cans, and essentials were hauled over and placed on a tarp. Our bags looked so lonely and small in the infinite white.

Luggage unloaded onto the salt during the rescue.

Finally, a tow truck arrived on the horizon. The cavalry! It began the delicate operation of extracting three very embarrassed 4x4s.

More of the gear piled on the salt flat.

Not long after, our savior arrived: a fourth Toyota Land Cruiser. It reached us without sinking. We piled in with our salvaged luggage, breathed a collective sigh of relief, and were back on our way. The Mammut team later confirmed everyone and every vehicle was fine. What was supposed to be a simple drive turned into an epic, unscheduled, and utterly memorable Salar adventure.

The final rescue vehicle arriving on the Salar.

Funny Pictures at Salar de Uyuni: Extreme Perspective Photos

The Salar is world-famous for forced-perspective photos that play with the featureless horizon. We'd tried some clumsy ones, but Nelson, a master of the art, took these gems. Behold: one of us standing on a hat, another towering overhead, and general family silliness on the world's largest blank canvas.

Playful forced-perspective photos on the mirror-flat salt.

Isla Incahuasi: The "House of the Incas" Island

18:20

Panorama of Salar de Uyuni from top of Incahuasi Island

Incahuasi Island

Rising from the center of the Salar, Incahuasi is a hilly, rocky island formed by the top of an ancient volcano. It's a crucial ecological island in a literal sea of salt. The most striking residents are the forests of giant Trichocereus bridgesii cactus, some over 700 years old and reaching 33 feet. They grow agonizingly slowly, about 1 cm per year in this harsh environment. The island also has fossilized coral and algae, proving that this was once a lake or sea floor. For the Incas, it was a vital rest stop (tambo) on the trade routes across the Altiplano, offering shelter, a vantage point, and possibly freshwater springs. It's a place where geology, ecology, and human history intersect on a grand scale.

Incahuasi Island is a volcanic pimple in the middle of the Salar. A trail leads to its 12,539-foot summit, offering a 360-degree view that will make your jaw drop and your lungs complain. The island was a pit stop for Inca traders - a place to rest their llamas and probably complain about the lack of decent snacks. The presence of corals and seashells here is a mind-bender, screaming that all this was once underwater.

Incahuasi Island, Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia: View of the island rising from the salt flat

The island is also home to a forest of giant, 700-year-old cacti, standing like silent, spiky sentinels. They're the Trichocereus bridgesii, or Bolivian torch, and they are magnificent.

The giant cactus forest of Incahuasi Island.

Hotel de Sal Cruz Andina

20:00

We spent the night at the Hotel de Sal Cruz Andina, located on Tambo Loma island just off the Salar's south shore. This hotel is built in the shape of the ancient Andean Chakana (Inca Cross), a symbol representing the three worlds (underworld, this world, upper world) and the Southern Cross constellation. It was a beautiful, quiet place to rest, with walls made of salt and local volcanic stone that stored the day's heat for the cold night.

The Chakana-shaped salt hotels of the Andes Altiplano.

December 30, 2022

We packed up, ate breakfast, and hit the road, leaving the Salar behind. Our mission now: to drive across the sacred, barren, breathtaking Andes altiplano towards Chile.

Julaca, Bolivia (20.9112° S, 67.5649° W, alt. 12,500 feet)

10:48

Julaca, Bolivia: Panoramic view of the tiny altiplano village

Our first stop was the tiny, windswept hamlet of Julaca. It consisted of a few adobe and salt-brick buildings on the roadside, rail tracks stretching toward Chile, and a bizarre metal-wire-mesh sculpture of an Alien from the movie franchise. Because why not?

Railway tracks toward Chile at the altiplano halt of Julaca, Bolivia.

The "Julaca Salt Shop" was a tiny, surreal minimarket in a salt-brick building, stocked with a weird mix of local goods and random Americana: Snickers, Lays, Skittles, Pringles, Corona. With no other customers, we bought a couple of blue energy drinks from the lonely shopkeeper. It felt like supporting the most remote convenience store on Earth.

Roadside curiosities at Julaca — an alien sculpture and a village store.

Estancia Chakha: Wildlife Valley and Flat Tire

12:03

Wildlife Valley on Andes Altiplano at Estancia Chakha, Bolivia: Panoramic view of the green valley with grazing animals

We turned south on a dirt track toward the hamlet of Alota. Just before Estancia Chakha, we passed a green valley teeming with wildlife: herds of alpaca, llama, and guanaco grazing peacefully. It was a lush oasis in the rocky altiplano. And then, as if to remind us this was a real adventure, we got a flat tire. Nelson swapped it with the spare in minutes, a true professional.

Altiplano wildlife and a flat tyre at Estancia Chakha, Bolivia.

Villa Alota

12:27

We reached the small village of Villa Alota and stopped for lunch at the Hospedaje Fatima, a simple roadside diner. It was here we had one of the most fascinating encounters of the trip.

The food along this route settles into a warming altiplano rhythm: quinoa soup to start, llama steak, lean and close to beef, with potatoes or rice, eggs at breakfast, and a bowl of fiery llajwa on the side. More than once our guides set up a table and chairs and served us lunch in a simple roadside room like this one.

Villa Alota is a small quinoa-and-llama settlement at 3,828 metres, reached by 140 kilometres of unpaved road from Uyuni, with about 630 people in 120 dwellings. It sits in Enrique Baldivieso, one of Bolivia's smallest provinces, a sliver almost entirely ringed by Nor Lípez, so we crossed a provincial boundary going in and another coming out without a single sign to mark it. Before silver was struck at San Cristóbal, villages out here were simply clusters of houses whose people bred llamas and grew what quinoa the altitude would allow.

The altiplano village of Villa Alota and its roadside hospedaje, Bolivia.

Meeting Adam Palowski - the biker who rides across the world

Parked outside was a motorcycle loaded to the gills with gear, covered in stickers and flags, with EU plates from Poland. This was the bike of Adam Palowski, a man from Poland who is riding his motorcycle across the world. He's been through Africa, Asia, Europe, North America, and was now in the middle of South America. We met him, swapped stories, and took a photo together. In the middle of the Bolivian altiplano, at 12,500 feet, we shared a moment with a modern-day nomad, a reminder of the endless ways to see this incredible planet.

A fellow overlander's adventure motorcycle at Villa Alota, Bolivia.

We chatted a bit and exchanged contact information, promising to look each other up in Poland, Georgia or the United States. Adam is easily among the most remarkable people we have met, a shining example of what travel does to people. Warm, laid back, smiling and brave. He let us sit on his bike. Adam can be found on facebook where he dumps his diary. He went the other way across the Salar to Peru, and had some pretty scary experiences in the chaotic political violence in Peru.

This chance encounter with a fellow traveler in the vastness of the Bolivian highlands is a classic example of the 'camaraderie of the road.' The Altiplano has been a crossing point for millennia, from pre-Columbian llama caravans to Spanish conquistadors and modern adventurers on motorbikes, all drawn by its stark beauty and challenging paths.

A closer look at that adventure motorcycle, Villa Alota, Bolivia.

Lunch break over, we got out of Villa Alota back on Route 701 driving west towards Avaroa to greet Volcán Ollagüe.

Route 701 cuts across the southwestern Potosí Department, a region historically defined by silver mining that bankrolled the Spanish Empire. The road itself is a modern scratch on ancient ground, following paths first worn by indigenous Aymara and Quechua peoples traveling between settlements and salt flats.

Westbound Bolivia Route 701 from Villa Alota towards Avaroa with Volcán Ollagüe visible in the distance, showcasing the remote gravel roads that connect highland settlements across the Altiplano at approximately 13,000 feet elevation

Volcán Ollagüe

14:10

Panoramic view of Volcán Ollagüe (Volcano Ollague) on the Bolivia-Chile border, showing the massive 19,252-foot andesite stratovolcano with its characteristic fumarolic activity emitting steam and gases over 300 feet into the air

We get off gravel track Route 701 to a dirt track going south towards Laguna Colorada. There is a great viewpoint (map) at 14,421 feet on this dirt track from which the massive 19,252 foot andesite stratovolcano Volcán Ollagüe can be seen looming behind at the boundary of Bolivia and Chile.

Volcán Ollagüe is part of the Central Volcanic Zone of the Andes, a line of fire created by the subduction of the Nazca Plate under the South American Plate. Its name likely derives from the Aymara words 'ulla' (penis) and 'ghawi' (mountain), though its exact meaning is debated. For local communities, such volcanoes are often considered Apus (mountain spirits), deities that govern weather and fertility and demand respect.

Volcano Ollagüe continues to emit steam and volcanic gases over 300 feet into the air. The "Fumarolic activity" indicates it can wake up to cause trouble any time.

The constant plume of gas is a sign of a restless magma chamber below. There is no record of Ollagüe erupting in historical times; its last known activity lies deep in the Pleistocene, tens of thousands of years ago. The persistent fumaroles suggest it is dormant rather than extinct. In local folklore, such steaming vents are sometimes seen as the breath of the mountain spirit or portals to the underworld.

The Volcán Ollagüe viewpoint on the Bolivian Altiplano.

Laguna Chulluncani

14:27

Panoramic view of Laguna Chulluncani, Potosi, Bolivia, at 16,404 feet elevation in the Andes mountains, showing the salt lake with flamingos and the snow-covered 17,848-foot volcanic summit of Cerro Caquella in the Cordillera Occidental range

At an altitude of 16,404 feet in the Andes mountains, Laguna Chulluncani (map) is the first lake after the great Titicaca that we behold on the legendary Altiplano.

Lake Chulluncani is a salt lake with Flamingos on and around it. The 17,848 foot snow-covered volcanic summit of Cerro Caquella in the Bolivian Andes and Cordillera Occidental ranges looms over it.

The Altiplano is a high plateau formed by the collision of tectonic plates, dotted with endorheic basins (closed drainage basins) that collect mineral-rich runoff from the surrounding mountains. Laguna Chulluncani is one such basin. Its waters support brine shrimp and algae, which in turn attract flamingos. For ancient peoples crossing the Altiplano, these lakes were vital landmarks and sources of salt and other minerals.

Close-up view of Laguna Chulluncani, Potosi, Bolivia, showing the mineral-rich waters and the distinctive coloration created by algae and microorganisms that sustain the flamingo population in this high-altitude ecosystem

This sequence of images from Laguna Chulluncani documents the multi-scale nature of high-altitude lake ecosystems in the Bolivian Altiplano. The panoramic view establishes the geographical context with Cerro Caquella towering above, while the subsequent images progressively zoom in to reveal the lake's specific characteristics, mineral content, and the delicate ecological relationships that define this extreme environment.

Laguna Chulluncani beneath volcanic peaks, Bolivia.

Laguna Hedionda (Stinking Lake): Suri (Andean Ostrich) and more Guanaco

14:39

The mineral-rich salt lake Laguna Hedionda (map) on the Bolivian Altiplano sits at an altitude of 13,520 feet. Snow-covered peaks of mountains Michincha, Cerro de Caquella, Cerro de Pajonal, Cerro de Tatio, Pabellón and Tocorpuri of Cordillera Occidental range of central Andes overlook it. Pink and white flamingos walk on it. Llamas and alpacas graze on its shore.

Laguna Hedionda literally translates to "Smelly Lake" or "Stinking Lake". The smell is of volcanic gases and sulfur, similar to geothermal areas like Hveravellir (Iceland) or Yellowstone.

The sulfuric scent is a clear sign of ongoing hydrothermal activity beneath the lake bed, where volcanic heat interacts with groundwater and minerals. Historically, such 'stinking' lakes were often avoided by indigenous herders for their animals, but they were known as sources of medicinal minerals and salts.

By Diego Delso, CC BY-SA 4.0, Link
Laguna Hedionda (Stinking Lake) in Bolivia, a mineral-rich salt lake known for its sulfuric smell and large flamingo population

As we cross Laguna Hedionda on our way to Laguna Cachi (map), we see two Suri birds (Andean Ostrich) and more Guanaco.

The Suri is an endangered species categorized to be in "critical danger" in Peru and only a few hundred left in Bolivia.

Guanaco are related to camels and evolved for survival in the high deserts of the Altiplano.

The Suri, or Darwin's Rhea, is a flightless bird that has roamed the Altiplano for millions of years. Its drastic decline is due to habitat loss, hunting for its feathers and meat, and egg collection. In Andean cosmology, the Suri sometimes appears in myths as a clever trickster figure. Guanacos are the wild ancestors of the domesticated llama. They were crucial to pre-Columbian societies for wool, meat, and as pack animals. Their ability to survive at high altitudes with little water is a marvel of evolution, with specialized blood cells that carry oxygen efficiently in thin air.

Rheas and guanacos at Laguna Hedionda, Bolivia.

Laguna Cachi

15:11

Laguna Cachi, altitude 14,744 feet (map). Mineral rich salt lake with barren desert and high snow-covered mountains around. Flamingos love it. The volcanic mountains are sites for mining with shafts leading into them. Ores extracted include for Sodium, Cobalt, Halite, Lithium, Boron-Borates, Molybdenum, Tungsten and Arsenic.

This region sits on the "Lithium Triangle," holding over half the world's lithium reserves. The mineral wealth has driven both local economies and international conflicts for centuries. The stark beauty of the flamingos against the industrial backdrop is a striking contrast between fragile ecology and resource extraction.

Panoramic view of Laguna Cachi on the Andes Altiplano, Bolivia, showing the mineral-rich salt lake at 14,744 feet elevation with surrounding volcanic mountains that contain significant lithium, cobalt, and other strategic mineral deposits

This extensive photographic series documents Laguna Cachi from multiple perspectives and scales. The panoramic views establish the lake's geographical context within the mineral-rich Lithium Triangle, while closer images reveal specific ecological features, industrial elements, and the interplay between natural beauty and resource extraction that characterizes this region of the Bolivian Altiplano.

Flamingos on Laguna Cachi, a mineral-rich altiplano lake, Bolivia.

Laguna Kara

15:54

Transition view between Laguna Cachi and Laguna Kara on the Bolivian Altiplano, showing the continuity of high-altitude lake systems in this desert at approximately 14,800 feet elevation

Leguna Kara (map) sits at an altitude of 14,846 feet in the desert highlands of Bolivian Altiplano beneath snow-covered peaks of Cordillera Occidental range of central Andes. Flamingos walk on it. The terrain around it gets even more rugged and desert-like than the lakes on our way here. Desierto de Siloli lies ahead.

The Cordillera Occidental is a volcanic range marking the border between Bolivia and Chile. Its peaks, often over 19,000 feet, were formed by the subduction of the Pacific oceanic plate. The snowmelt from these peaks is the primary source of water for the altiplano's lakes, though much of it is lost to evaporation in the arid climate, leaving behind concentrated salts and minerals.

Laguna Kara at 14,846 feet elevation in the Bolivian Altiplano, showing flamingos feeding in the mineral-rich waters with the snow-covered peaks of the Cordillera Occidental range forming a dramatic backdrop

This sequence continues the documentation of high-altitude lakes with images of Laguna Kara, located even deeper into the desert highlands. The photographs show the progression from wide views to close ones of this specific lake, illustrating how each water body in the Altiplano chain has unique characteristics while sharing common ecological patterns shaped by extreme altitude and aridity.

Laguna Kara amid the increasingly arid Altiplano, Bolivia.

Desierto de Siloli

16:38

Legend has it the high desert of Desierto Siloli (map) is where the earth meets the sky. (Ref: dangerousroads)

At an altitude of 15,604 feet, the Siloli Desert in the Bolivian Altiplano is lined on two sides by colorful volcanic mountains of Cordillera Occidental range of the Andes. On top of the thin air making breathing challenging, gale force winds whipping through this driest of deserts makes it hard to remain standing although our children somehow climbed up some rocks.

Siloli Desert is part of the great Atacama Desert which holds the distinction of being the most arid desert in the world. Entrance to the Eduardo Avaroa Andean Fauna National Reserve park is next to it.

The Siloli Desert's extreme aridity is due to a double rain shadow effect. Moisture from the Amazon is blocked by the Cordillera Oriental to the east, and Pacific moisture is blocked by the Chilean Coast Range to the west. The result is a hyper-arid basin where some weather stations have never recorded rain. The colorful mountains are stained by iron oxide (red), sulfur (yellow), and other mineral deposits from ancient volcanic activity.

Desierto de Siloli (Siloli Desert) on Andes Altiplano, Bolivia - this hyper-arid desert at 15,604 feet elevation shows colorful volcanic mountains stained by iron oxide and sulfur deposits, with some areas receiving no measurable precipitation for decades

There are spectacular rock formations sculpted by sandstone and salt laden forceful winds, the most famous of which is the Árbol de Piedra - the "Stone Tree" sticking out of the desert. It is a 16½ foot natural monolith of mostly quartz with more iron at top which makes the top more resilient.

The Árbol de Piedra is a textbook example of a ventilact, a rock shaped by wind-blown sand. Over millennia, abrasive particles have sandblasted the softer material at its base, leaving the harder, iron-rich cap as a "crown." Similar formations are found in deserts worldwide, but the altitude and stark setting make this one particularly memorable.

The Árbol de Piedra (Stone Tree) rock formation in Desierto de Siloli, Bolivia - this 16.5-foot natural monolith of quartz with iron-rich cap is a classic example of a ventilact shaped by wind erosion over millennia

The 18,432 foot Cerro Inacaliri o del Cajón (Volcano Inacaliri) towers above the colorful range of high mountains at the northwest of Siloli. There is a crater lake on a large 1,300 foot diameter crater at the top of Inacaliri which can be hiked to.

Desierto de Siloli (Siloli Desert) on Andes Altiplano, Bolivia, showing the extreme wind erosion patterns and colorful mineral deposits that characterize this hyper-arid region within the greater Atacama Desert system

This extensive photographic documentation of Desierto de Siloli captures the desert's most distinctive features from multiple perspectives. The images progress from establishing shots showing the vast scale of the hyper-arid desert to close views of specific geological formations, wind patterns, and atmospheric conditions that define this extreme environment at 15,604 feet elevation.

The wind-sculpted emptiness of the Siloli Desert, Bolivia.

Reserva Nacional de Fauna Andina Eduardo Avaroa: Eduardo Avaroa Andean Fauna National Reserve

17:11

Map on Sign Board at Entrance of Eduardo Avaroa National Park, Bolivia - this informational display shows the park's extensive 1.7 million-acre protected area encompassing volcanoes, geysers, hot springs, and critical flamingo habitats in the Bolivian Altiplano

We stop at the control point at the entrance to the Eduardo Avaroa National Park (map) to purchase tickets. This entrance is next to the northwest corner of Laguna Colorada.

The park is named after Eduardo Avaroa, a Bolivian engineer and hero of the War of the Pacific (1879-1884) against Chile. He famously declared "I will not retreat, you cowardly invaders!" before being executed. The park protects over 1.7 million acres of unique altiplano ecosystems, including volcanoes, geysers, hot springs, and lakes that are critical habitat for flamingos and other wildlife.

Eduardo Avaroa National Park Entrance - North Gate, Bolivia - the park entrance facility near Laguna Colorada where visitors purchase tickets valid for four days to access this protected area in the southwestern Potosí Department

The passes are valid for four days and cost 150 Bolivianos each. Chilean Pesos and US Dollars are also accepted at the ticket office, though we paid in Bolivianos.

For people like us heading to Chile over the Hito Cajon international mountain crossing, it is very important to hold on to the tickets even after exiting the park. Cancelled ("Anulado", annulled) tickets are part of required documents to exit Bolivia.

Eduardo Avaroa National Park Tickets from the North Gate in Bolivia near Laguna Colorada - these 150 Boliviano passes are valid for four days and must be retained for border crossing documentation when exiting Bolivia via Hito Cajón

Laguna Colorada (Red Lagoon)

17:25

A legend says the Red Lagoon (map) is made of God's blood, but the dazzling colors of the incredibly panoramic lake are due to plankton, algae and minerals.

By any measure, Laguna Colorada sitting at an altitude of 14,035 feet inside geologically active Eduardo Avaroa National Reserve on Andes altiplano is extraordinary. The shallow 3 foot deep salt lake with white borax islands sits in a caldera - a large depression formed when a volcano erupts and collapses. Covering almost 15,000 acres, the colors of its water are a glorious range of deep blue, bright white and deep red.

The red color comes from pigments in certain types of algae (Dunaliella salina) and sediments rich in iron. The white "islands" are deposits of borax (sodium borate), a mineral used in detergents and cosmetics. The lake's position in a volcanic caldera means the ground is still warm in places, influencing the algae growth. For the local indigenous people, such vividly colored lakes are often considered sacred, gateways to other worlds or the blood of earth deities.

Laguna Colorada, the red lagoon of the high Altiplano, Bolivia.

Of the six species of flamingos in the world, three are found abundantly on the Red Lake: Andean, Chilean and the thought-to-be-extinct James' Flamingo.

The James's Flamingo was believed extinct until its rediscovery in 1956 in this very region. The lake's brine shrimp and diatoms are a perfect food source. The flamingos' unique beaks filter the mud to extract this nourishment. Their presence in such a harsh, mineral-rich environment shows nature's adaptability.

Flamingos feeding on Laguna Colorada, Bolivia.

Latitudes Hostal, Huyajara

17:47

Courtyard of Latitudes Hostal near Huyajara, Bolivia - this off-grid accommodation operates completely on solar power with generator backup, providing basic comfort in the remote Altiplano at approximately 14,000 feet elevation

We stayed the night at Latitudes Hostal located just over 3 miles south of southwestern corner of Laguna Colorada, close to the village of Huyajara (map). The hostel is not marked on Google maps at the time of writing and we sent an update request, but the Laguna Colorada Simple Mountain Lodge (GPS coordinates -22.26354751826685, -67.81586925150025) exists on Google maps as right next to it. Or maybe the Simple Mountain Lodge, whose photos look like an under-construction version of Latitudes Hostal, was the same hostel before the pandemic wiped out tourism. We don't know.

Huyajara is a tiny, remote settlement whose existence is tied to the park and the few hardy tourists who venture here. Life here is dictated by the extreme environment - bitterly cold nights, intense solar radiation during the day, and a constant struggle for water and energy.

Reception desk, Latitudes Hostal - the hospitality center in this remote off-grid accommodation serving travelers exploring the Eduardo Avaroa National Park region

Located in the barren mountain desert of the Andes altiplano, Latitudes Hostal operates completely off-grid. Electricity is from battery-backed solar panels during the day and they run a generator in the evenings till 9:30 PM after which the batteries provide some power. We had two rooms with attached bathrooms. There is hot water for showers on request assumedly from an oil or propane water heater. Internet is available for a small fee over satellite, and WiFi continues to work from the solar-charged battery setup after the generator shuts off. There is no heat. The ceilings of the rooms are translucent, letting through a remarkable amount of light from the moon and stars in the most clear air on the planet that Atacama is famous for.

All in all, Latitudes Hostal is surprisingly cosy and comfortable given its location and infrastructure!

The hybrid power setup at a remote altiplano hostel, Bolivia.

Rooms surround a central dining area reachable across a hallway. The kitchen is on the right of the hallway before it opens up to the dining area.

Inside the remote Latitudes hostel on the Altiplano, Bolivia.

December 31, 2022

05:38

We wake up very early when it is still dark, have breakfast and hit Camino Hito Cajon - Laguna Colorada road by first light of dawn. Back inside Eduardo Avaroa National Park, our first destination for the day is the geothermal area of Sol de Mañana which coincidentally translates to "Sun of the Morning".

Sunrise between Laguna Colorada and Sol de Mañana on the Bolivian Andes Altiplano, capturing the first light of dawn illuminating the high-altitude desert at approximately 14,000 feet elevation

Geotermas Sol de Mañana

05:54

https://youtu.be/qlPwVfOiOLo

At an altitude of 16,092 feet in the rugged desert of the Bolivian Andes Altiplano lies the 2,500 acres of Sol de Mañana Geothermal Area (map) with furiously boiling mineral rich mud in scary cracks on the ground, intense jets of vapor and geysers shooting up hot water sometimes to over 160 feet.

This is a high-altitude geothermal field, where magma close to the surface superheats groundwater. The boiling mud pots are caused by steam and gases forcing their way up through clay-rich soil. The sulfurous smell and hissing vents have led to associations with the underworld in many cultures; here, they might be seen as the breath of Pachamama (Earth Mother) or as entrances to the spirit world.

The boiling mud pots and steam vents of Sol de Mañana, Bolivia.

The Laguna Colorada Geothermal Plant under construction at an altitude of 16,305 feet is the world's highest such facility. The 5mW plant will generate enough electricity for over 2,500 people. The plant is a pilot project inside the Reserva de Fauna Andina Eduardo Avaroa in the Campo Sol de Mañana area. Bolivia's Ministry of Economy and Public Finance announced the signing of the contract in March of 2019.

Tapping geothermal energy in such an extreme environment is a major engineering feat. It represents a shift for Bolivia, traditionally reliant on fossil fuels, toward using its volcanic geology for sustainable power. The challenge is to do so without damaging the fragile ecosystem and scenic values of the national park.

Laguna Colorada Geothermal Plant under construction at Campo Sol de Mañana, Bolivia - this 5mW facility at 16,305 feet elevation will be the world's highest geothermal power plant, providing electricity for over 2,500 people

Termas de Polques: Hot Springs on Laguna Chalviri at Salar de Chalviri

06:33

Termas de Polques Hot Springs at Laguna Chalviri, Salar de Chalviri, Bolivia - natural thermal pools at 16,306 feet elevation with water temperatures around 70°F, offering therapeutic relaxation in a spectacular high-altitude setting

The salt flats of Salar de Chalviri (map) at an altitude of 16,306 feet sit not too far southeast of Sol de Mañana. On the western side of Salar de Chalviri, there is a mineral salt lake called Laguna Chalviri. The Aguas termales de Polques - the Polques Hot Springs - is at the western tip of Laguna Chalviri.

These hot springs are a gift of the same geothermal activity that creates the geysers. The water is heated deep underground, rises through fractures, and mixes with cooler surface water to create a comfortable bathing temperature. The minerals dissolved in the water - lithium, sulfur, calcium - are thought to have therapeutic properties. For weary travelers and locals alike, they have been a place of relaxation and healing for generations.

Termas de Polques Hot Springs panoramic view showing the thermal pools with Laguna Chalviri and surrounding volcanic mountains creating a dramatic backdrop at 16,306 feet elevation

Termas de Polques has a reputation for being rejuvenating and therapeutic with water temperatures hovering around a comfortable 70 degrees fahrenheit. The lake with flamingos and the salt flat with surrounding volcanoes provide a spectacular natural backdrop. There are restaurants, cafes and nice parking facilities at the site which looks more touristy than the places we visited so far.

The Polques hot springs beside Laguna Chalviri, Bolivia.

Desierto Salvador Dalí (Valle de Dalí)

07:56

Salvador Dalí's famous 1931 Surrealist Painting "The Persistence of Memory" (fair use)

South of Termas de Polques, the vast expanse of Salvador Dalí Desert at an altitude of 15,289 feet is inside the Eduardo Avaroa Andean Fauna National Reserve.

Salvador Dalí Desert panoramic view showing the surreal, dreamlike desert named after the artist because its colorful, bizarre rock formations resemble his paintings, located at 15,289 feet in the Eduardo Avaroa Andean Fauna National Reserve

The Desierto Salvador Dalí in Bolivia, located on the Andes Altiplano, is a surreal, dreamlike desert named after the famous artist Salvador Dalí because its colorful, bizarre rock formations resemble his paintings.

Geologically, it is part of the Eduardo Avaroa Andean Fauna National Reserve, formed by volcanic activity, erosion, and mineral deposits, creating intense reds, yellows, and whites.

Mineral-streaked rock of the Salvador Dalí Desert, Bolivia.

Historically, the region was shaped by ancient volcanic eruptions and glacial movements.

During the last ice age, glaciers carved and scoured these valleys. When they retreated, they left behind loose sediment that was then sculpted over thousands of years by relentless wind and occasional flash floods. The mineral colors come from oxidized iron (reds and oranges), sulfur (yellows), and other volcanic compounds.

Salvador Dalí Desert showing the vast 27,000-acre expanse of mountain desert with distant volcanic peaks, illustrating the extreme aridity and geological diversity of this high-altitude region

Culturally, it is tied to the indigenous Aymara and Quechua peoples, who have lived in the Andes for millenia, respecting the land as sacred.

Local folklore tells of spirits and deities inhabiting the mountains and deserts, with legends of hidden treasures and mystical beings guarding the harsh terrain.

Stories speak of the Anchanchu or Supay, trickster spirits of the underworld who inhabit caves and strange rock formations. Travelers might leave small offerings like coca leaves to ensure safe passage. The surreal terrain is seen as a physical manifestation of the spiritual world.

Wildlife of the Salvador Dalí Desert, Bolivia.

The area is also home to unique wildlife, like flamingos, vicuñas, and viscachas, adding to its otherworldly charm.

Salvador Dalí Desert panoramic view emphasizing the vast scale and dreamlike quality that led to the area being named after the surrealist artist, despite Dalí never having visited Bolivia

The desert really has nothing to do with the legendary artist who lived in Spain and California having never set foot in Bolivia.

It is named after Salvador Dali because of the extremely dry rugged 27,000 acres of mountain desert vistas that apparently remind people of paintings by the genius of Surrealism.

Erosion patterns and mineral bands of the Salvador Dalí Desert, Bolivia.

Laguna Blanca (White Lagoon) and Laguna Verde (Green Lagoon)

08:36

https://youtu.be/Dnas7nYhJwg

As we get close to Hito Cajon mountain pass at Bolivia's southwestern border with Chile, the Bolivian highlands reveal 14,272 foot Laguna Blanca (White Lagoon) and Laguna Verde (Green Lagoon) next to each other with volcanoes Juriques (18,714 feet) and Licancabur (19,409 feet) behind them (map).

Laguna Blanca is a white salt lake with no outflow. Laguna Verde is emerald green because of arsenic which makes it poisonous. Flamingos avoid it.

The stark difference between the two neighboring lakes shows how small variations in mineral content can create entirely different worlds. Laguna Blanca gets its white color from massive precipitates of borax and other salts. Laguna Verde's green is from copper and arsenic compounds dissolved in the water, leached from the surrounding volcanic rocks. The arsenic levels are toxic to most life, creating a beautiful but dead lake.

Laguna Blanca (White Lagoon) and Laguna Verde (Green Lagoon) panoramic view showing the contrasting white and green lakes at 14,272 feet elevation with volcanoes Juriques and Licancabur towering behind them on the Bolivia-Chile border

Volcán Licancabur: NASA Mars Mission on Earth

Looming behind Laguna Verde, Volcán Licancabur is considered by NASA to be "the best Earth-based analog for conditions on Mars billions of years ago." So compelling are the similarities with ancient Mars that a team of scientists led by Nathalie Cabrol of NASA Ames Research Center arrived at Licancabur volcano "to explore what life is able to exist in such an extreme environment - as well as to test diving and other high-tech equipment like bodysuits that one day might be used to monitor the physiology (breathing rates, heartbeat, etc) of Mars explorers," according to NASA.

Licancabur is a nearly perfect stratovolcone, sacred to the Atacameño people, who called it "Licancabur" meaning "mountain of the people" in the Kunza language. Its summit crater contains one of the highest lakes in the world, a tiny body of water that survives despite UV radiation and freezing temperatures - conditions similar to ancient Martian lakes. Studying microbes there helps scientists understand the limits of life.

Laguna Verde and Laguna Blanca below Volcán Licancabur, at the Bolivia–Chile border.

Hito Cajón (Portezuelo del Cajón) Mountain Pass

Hito Cajón sits at over 4,700 metres on the southeastern flank of Juriques, the volcano paired with Licancabur on the frontier. Chile built a proper border complex right here in 2017, a 750-square-metre post with a vehicle-inspection bay, staffed year-round by the PDI, Customs, SAG and Carabineros, replacing the old arrangement that had sent travellers 43 kilometres down to San Pedro de Atacama to be processed. We cleared Chilean immigration and customs at this building, our passports stamped and the vehicle checked before the long descent on Ruta 27 toward San Pedro.

Bolivia - Chile International Border Crossing

Bolivian Customs / Immigration

09:09

Bolivia-Chile International Land Border Crossing at Hito Cajón mountain pass panoramic view showing the 14,700-foot high border crossing facilities with Volcán Juriques in the background

The 14,700 foot Hito Cajon mountain pass (map) is among the highest international land border crossings in the world, and the highest land border crossing in our travels so far. It is located at the base of Volcán Juriques.

This border was finalized after the War of the Pacific (1879-1884), a conflict that left Bolivia landlocked. The "hito" is a border marker. Crossing here is also a passage through a deep historical wound for Bolivia, which lost its Pacific coastline to Chile.

There are three controls (bureaucratic check points) that we have to go through to exit Bolivia.

1. The Bolivia - Chile border here is also the border of Bolivia's Eduardo Avaroa Andean Fauna National Reserve. The first control is the exit gate of the National Park where we get exit stamps on our tickets and are repeatedly reminded to retain the tickets.
2. The second control before Hito Cajone is a building where we fill out immigration / customs exit forms and stand in a queue. The officer there checks our canceled Park tickets, verifies our exit forms for correct passport numbers and lets us go.
3. Migración Bolivia: Bolivian Immigration Control at land border at Hito Cajone pass.

Arriving at Hito Cajón from the Bolivian side, there is some sort of a covered booth with traffic lanes with an adjacent largish building, all with red roofs, under construction before the trailer that currently serves as the immigration office.

Approaching the Hito Cajón border crossing from Bolivia.

The current Oficina Migración is a tiny derelict looking building with a satellite dish and pole antennas sticking out from the sides.

Bolivian immigration formalities at Hito Cajón.

The Bolivian immigration officer inside was professional and friendly. After checking our passports and visas, he stamped our passports and that was it. We had heard rumors of an unofficial 15 Boliviano fees payable in cash to get the exit stamps, but there was no such thing asked for.

This is where the Bolivian part of our 4x4 expedition ended. Transfer to Chile is on white minibuses waiting right across the Bolivian Immigration office.

Transfer minibuses waiting at Hito Cajón border crossing to transport travelers from Bolivian immigration to Chilean immigration facilities

We said goodbye to our driver and guide who had driven us across epic country for three days. Our luggage was already transferred to a white minibus. Off we went officially into Chile across the lonely "República de Chile" sign right behind the Bolivian office.

Crossing into Chile at the Hito Cajón frontier.

After at least four days of rough offroading, we celebrated being back on an excellent paved road. And we were on our way to the Chile Immigration and Customs office and then San Pedro de Atacama!

Chilean paved highway after crossing Hito Cajón border, showcasing the improved infrastructure on the Chilean side compared to the rough Bolivian tracks

Chile Customs / Immigration

Complejo Fronterizo Hito Cajón - the modern Chilean border control complex at 14,925 feet elevation that began operation in August 2017 (Photo credit: Unidad de Pasos Fronterizos, Gobierno de Chile)

On the Chilean side of the Hito Cajon land border, a new Border Control Complex "Complejo Fronterizo Hito Cajón" at an altitude of 14,925 feet is in operation since August of 2017. It is just over 4 miles south on Chile Route 27 (Ruta CH-27), connected by southbound Ruta B-243 from the Bolivian control.

Our white minibus pulls into the building through a roll-up door. All luggage is unloaded. There are examination tables for luggage next to the stopped bus for Chile Customs officers to check. Everyone in the minibus queue up their luggage on the tables and headed to the Immigration counters at the right corner inside the building.

Given our experience entering Bolivia at Santa Cruz Viru Viru airport, we stood in the Chile immigration queue with a bit of apprehension. It turned out Chile immigration is a breeze just like entering a EU or Schengen or any other country with visa-free entry for Americans. The officer at the counter stamped our passports. "Welcome to Chile", he smiled.

We went back out where Customs officers were checking luggage. A perfunctory check was performed on what we had, and we walked out of the door on the other side of the building pulling our luggage to wait for our minibus to be cleared and pick us up.

Exiting Complejo Fronterizo Hito Cajón after completing Chilean immigration and customs procedures, ready to continue the journey to San Pedro de Atacama

The Wild Donkeys of Atacama Desert

11:53

The Spanish marauders had brought donkeys with them to carry loads when they reached the Atacama desert. But the donkeys failed in the rugged terrain and thin air of high altitudes. So the Spaniards simply let go of their donkeys in the wild and switched to llamas.

The liberated Spanish donkeys did not die off. Their descendents still roam the high deserts happily munching on whatever is available.

Fortuitously the first animals we saw in Chile from our minibus were wild donkeys!

These donkeys, known as "burros" in Spanish, are a living legacy of the colonial era. They are a feral population, having adapted to the extreme desert over centuries. They compete for scarce resources with native wildlife like vicuñas, but they have also become a part of the local ecological and cultural fabric, often seen as charming, hardy survivors.

Wild donkeys of the Atacama Desert, Chile.

San Pedro de Atacama, Chile

12:30

https://youtu.be/x7NmoO5RuUs

San Pedro de Atacama is a tourist town of around 2,000 permanent residents at an altitude of 8,000 feet. It is approximately 40 minutes west of Chile's Hito Cajon immigration complex on Ruta 27 (map).

San Pedro sits in the lap of Volcán Licancabur persisting with vistas of Atacama desert, salt flats, volcanoes, geysers, hot springs and lakes from across the political border. The Los Flamencos National Reserve to its east is essentially a southern expansion of Bolivia's Eduardo Avaroa Andean Fauna National Reserve. The nearby Valle de la Luna (Valley of the Moon) is popular for its unusual rock formations, a huge sand dune and pink-streaked mountains.

The ancient town is continuously inhabited since prehistoric times. It is a candidate for UNESCO world heritage site status. "Subsequential groups left circular tombs, adobe houses with conical roofs, a ceremonial center of the Atacama people (under the influence of the Tiwanaku empire), defensive and industrial works by the Inca and the colonial local church", say UNESCO. The R. P. Gustavo Le Paige Archaeological Museum holds ancient cultures of the Atacama. More recently, San Pedro was a major town on the Inca empire's 19,000 mile Qhapaq Ñan road network that connected Argentina, Bolivia, Chile, Colombia, Ecuador and Peru.

San Pedro has special importance for modern astronomical science. The Atacama desert is the driest place in the world with no precipitation for decades in some places. The high-altitude pollution-free dry and calm air results in the clearest night skies seen from Earth. A host of telescopes and observatories have been looking at the heavens from around San Pedro, including ALMA (Atacama Large Millimeter/submillimeter Array) observatory that is part of the Event Horizon Telescope which recently took the first photographs of the supermassive black hole in the center of our galaxy. ALMA is currently the largest astronomical project in existence.

Other than telescopes, San Pedro's Museo del Meteorito three blocks from city center features a fascinating collection of meteorites combined with the story of life on Earth, our solar system and the cosmos.

The Bolivia to Chile Transfer Minibus makes two stops in San Pedro. The first stop is at the Terminal de Buses (map) where some folks got off to connect with other buses. We disembarked at the second stop at Plaza TourisTour at intersection of Ignacio Carrera Pinto and Caracoles (map). From there it was a six-minute walk up Caracoles and left into Tocopilla to our Hotel La Cochera.

The adobe streets of San Pedro de Atacama, Chile.

We had many great conversations with Carlos who was managing La Cochera at the time. Of the many interesting stories we heard from Carlos, he has hitch-hiked his way across the legendary Carretera Austral, Chile's trans-Patagonia Route 7. We have a deal with him: when we return to Chile drive the Austral, Carlos is coming with us!

San Pedro de Atacama courtyard showing traditional architectural elements including adobe walls, wooden beams, and desert-adapted vegetation

After checking in, we headed out to find some lunch, ending up in a pretty restaurant named Casa de Piedra Atacameña. We were led across the fiery grills and up the stairs to the 2nd floor with a straw roof (rain is not an issue here) and distinct Atacameño ambience. The food was delicious!

The Atacameño culture, also known as Lickan Antay, is one of the oldest continuous cultures in the Americas, with a history stretching back over 11,000 years. Their traditional cuisine uses local ingredients like quinoa, llama meat, corn, and potatoes, often cooked in earthen ovens. Eating here was a taste of this deep cultural heritage.

A traditional Atacameño restaurant in San Pedro de Atacama, Chile.

We then strolled around a bit at random, picking up some essentials, a traditional llama wool scarf and simple souvenirs. Interestingly a local money exchanger agreed to exchange our remaining Boliviano to Chilean Pesos, probably at a pretty bad exchange rate but we were happy to swap out the little unused Boliviano we had.

Llama and alpaca wool has been used in the Andes for thousands of years. The scarves are not just souvenirs; they represent a traditional craft. The intricate patterns and colors often have specific meanings, denoting community, marital status, or spiritual beliefs.

The craft market and shops of San Pedro de Atacama, Chile.

There is something about sowing machines in shops on the altiplano. A classic singer machine was displayed in a minimarket, perhaps for sale.

Singer sewing machines turn up even in remote corners of the world. They represent self-sufficiency and the ability to repair and create clothing - a vital skill in isolated communities where ready-made goods are expensive or unavailable. Seeing one here is a reminder of the practical, everyday life that continues amidst the tourist facade.

Classic Singer sewing machine displayed in a San Pedro de Atacama store, representing self-sufficiency and traditional craftsmanship in this remote desert community

We headed back to our hotel at dusk to get some dinner and be ready for the famous Atacama astronomical tour.

San Pedro de Atacama at dusk showing the transition to evening as the town prepares for its famous astronomical tours under some of the world's clearest night skies

Astronomical Tour at San Pedro de Atacama

21:37

We had no prior reservation for an astronomical tour. It was a challenge to find one operating on the night of New Year's Eve with only a few hours left before nightfall. With great effort and a lot of convincing ("We are coming from Washington, DC to tour with you, so please please ..."), Tour Astronómico por Sol Andino (Astronomical Tour by Sol Andino) agreed to take us. We walked to the pick-up point of Sol Andino Expediciones office at Caracoles 362 at 9 PM. The tour guide and assistant met the four of us there along with just one other couple, and we walked together to Plaza TourisTour (where we had gotten off the Bolivia-Chile Transfer minibus earlier in the day) to board their van.

Astronomical tour meeting point in San Pedro de Atacama showing the gathering of visitors for nighttime stargazing under the world's clearest skies

We were driven a some distance out of town into near-total darkness. Our guide then walked us to a compound from where we looked up to see the clearest night sky we have ever seen!

We met Laika the Dog on our way. Apparently this Laika of San Pedro de Atacama hangs around every night to welcome stargazers like us. Laika is, of course, named after the legendary Soviet space dog - a stray mongrel from the streets of Moscow who became the first animal to orbit planet Earth and sadly gave her life in pursuit of the science of astronomy. Years later, on the Silk Road, we would meet another Laika — a stray asleep beneath a Soyuz rocket at Baikonur Cosmodrome in Kazakhstan, the very place the first Laika's journey began.

Laika the Dog at San Pedro de Atacama astronomical tour - this friendly local dog named after the famous Soviet space dog welcomes stargazers to nighttime astronomy sessions

Our guide then pulled out a laser pointer and we listened to him awestruck as he pointed out clusters, superclusters, nebulae, planets and constellations. It was like we were in a real-life planetarium show.

The clarity is due to multiple factors: high altitude, low humidity, lack of light pollution, and stable air above the desert. Ancient Andean cultures were also expert astronomers, building alignments into their architecture and using the stars to guide agriculture and ceremonies. The Milky Way, known as "Mayu" (river) in Quechua, was seen as a celestial river mirroring those on Earth.

A stargazing tour under the clear skies of San Pedro de Atacama, Chile.

We then went to another dark compound with just a dull red lamp for a little light when needed. There were three telescopes in the compound, including a particularly big one.

It was a mesmerizing couple of hours as our guide and his assistant then pointed the telescopes to different objects and we put our eye on the eyepieces of wonder. Distant gaseous nebulae and galactic clusters to the rings of Saturn revealed themselves with a clarity only possible from the Atacama.

Telescopes set up for the astronomy tour, San Pedro de Atacama, Chile.

Laika the (Chilean) Dog loves to sit below telescopes!

The tour's resident dog beneath the telescopes, San Pedro de Atacama, Chile.

We ended the outstanding tour with complimentary snacks and wine in a room behind the telescopes and headed back to the hotel.

Post-tour refreshments after stargazing, San Pedro de Atacama, Chile.

January 1, 2023

San Pedro de Atacama Main Plaza

08:42

After an excellent breakfast at La Cochera, we walked down a few blocks to the town center Plaza de San Pedro de Atacama. It is a pretty square with Spanish architecture. Imposing administrative buildings, including Carabineros de Chile Police Commissioner, an arts, crafts and handicrafts market, the Municipal Office building, the Parish House and Sernatur (Chile's department of tourism) office, line Gustavo Le Paige street across Iglesia San Pedro church. A gorgeous decorated Christmas tree was on display at the center of the Plaza.

The plaza is the heart of the community, a mix of colonial history and modern tourism. The Christmas tree, a northern hemisphere tradition, stands somewhat surreal in the dry summer heat of January in the Southern Hemisphere, a symbol of the global culture that now intersects with this ancient town.

The main plaza of San Pedro de Atacama, Chile.

The historic 17th century adobe (built of mud and cactus wood) Iglesia San Pedro de Atacama (Church of San Pedro de Atacama) is the second oldest in Chile. It was built using traditional Andes altiplano construction techniques. Painted white in and out, the walls, roof, and main door are built of algarrobo wood and cardón (cactus wood) bound together by llama leather. It has an arched stone lintel and beamed ceiling, with the roof made of large rafters of algarrobo wood overlaid with slices of cactus logs. (Ref: Wikipedia)

This church is a fusion of Catholic faith and indigenous technology. The use of local materials like cactus wood (cardón) and llama leather bindings shows how Spanish missionaries adapted to the environment, incorporating native knowledge to create a durable structure in a land with no traditional European building materials.

The 17th-century adobe church of San Pedro de Atacama, Chile.

Church of San Pedro de Atacama is known for its elegant simplicity. Carved and painted altarpieces inside feature statues of St. Mary and St. Joseph with fluorescent lighting.

Interior view of Iglesia San Pedro de Atacama showing the simple yet elegant design with carved altarpieces and traditional religious artwork

The Feria Artesanal San Pedro de Atacama (San Pedro de Atacama Craft Fair) across the church was empty when we were there, possibly due to pandemic-induced evaporation of tourism. This place is usually a busy bazaar of indigenous Andean art and craft where visitors spend a great time shopping artefacts of llama wool, stone carvings, cactus, leather and more.

Feria Artesanal San Pedro de Atacama - the traditional craft market usually filled with indigenous artwork and textiles, shown here empty due to reduced tourism during the pandemic period

More Andean adobe construction is seen in the Casa Parroquial San Pedro de Atacama (Parish House), Municipalidad San Pedro de Atacama (San Pedro de Atacama Municipality) and Carabineros de Chile - Prefectura El Loa - 2a Comisaría San Pedro de Atacama (Chile Police - El Loa Prefecture - 2nd Commissioner) buildings.

The adobe parish house of San Pedro de Atacama, Chile.

The Municipalidad San Pedro de Atacama Municipality office, established November 25, 1980, serves the public between 8:30 AM and 1:30 PM on working days according to the posted signs.

Civic buildings of San Pedro de Atacama, Chile.

There was a contraption hanging from the electric meter on the boundary wall of the church. It appears to be some sort of a cell phone charging station for public use.

This improvised charging station is a great example of practical innovation in a remote area. It provides a vital service for locals and tourists alike who may need to power devices, blending modern needs with the historic setting.

Improvised cell phone charging station on the boundary wall of Iglesia San Pedro de Atacama, demonstrating practical innovation in this remote desert community

The streets around the central plaza were deserted. And every Chilean street dog we saw was huge and insanely beautiful!

Street dogs are a common sight across Chile. They are often well-fed and friendly, part of the community. Many are mixed breeds that have adapted to the climate. Their presence adds to the laid-back, organic feel of towns like San Pedro.

Quiet morning streets of San Pedro de Atacama, Chile.

We returned to the hotel, packed up, checked out and headed to Calama.

Calama, Chile - Driving the Ruta del Desierto

13:30

Driving Chile Route 23: Ruta del Desierto (Desert Route) On Atacama
San Pedro de Atacama to Calama
https://youtu.be/qe6RzhbTquI

Chile's Carreteras CH-23 Ruta del Desierto (Desert Road) connects Calama to San Pedro de Atacama and continues east to the 13,386 foot Paso de Sico (Sico Pass mountain border crossing) into Argentina's Ruta Nacional 51. Our drive on westbound Ruta 23 from San Pedro to Calama was one of the finest drives we have experienced.

The road descends from the altiplano into the Atacama Basin, passing through country shaped by wind, water (long ago), and tectonic forces. You can see alluvial fans spreading from mountain canyons, salt crusts, and distant mining operations. Calama is a mining city, home to Chuquicamata, one of the world's largest open-pit copper mines. The road is a lifeline for this industry.

The desert drive along Ruta 23 from San Pedro de Atacama to Calama, Chile.

We checked in to Hotel Agua del Desierto, Calama for the night.

Restaurant inside Hotel Agua del Desierto in Calama, Chile, providing comfortable accommodation in this mining town before early morning flights

The first of our long series of flights back home (Calama - Santiago on SKY, Santiago - Panama City, Panama - Washington Dulles on Copa) was very early the next morning.

That crossing at Hito Cajón closed the Bolivian chapter of a longer loop through the Andes. If you want the whole arc in one place, Peru, Bolivia and Chile strung along the Laguna Route across the Altiplano, we pulled it together in our South America overland summary. And the road did not stop at the Atacama: a couple of months later we traded salt for sand entirely, driving Egypt's Western Desert to the Red Sea. Different continent, same restlessness.

Acknowledgements

We owe the Bolivia part of our trip to a couple of outstanding people and their businesses. We are not affiliated with these businesses and this is independent opinion.

Pukina Travel logo - the La Paz-based tour company that helped organize the Bolivian portion of this Andean adventure

My friend Juan Carlos Cardenas is the boss of Pukina Travel based in La Paz: pukinatravel.com

Mammut Expeditions logo - the Uyuni-based tour operator that provided expert guidance through the Bolivian Altiplano

Juan's friends Luz and Nelson are now our friends too. They run Mammut Expeditions from Uyuni.

The End