Bolivian Altiplano and La Paz

(Previous post: San Pedro to Uyuni)

This post is long overdue - over six months. I just simply couldn't be bothered to write it at the time. However it is interesting to reflect on events after so much time has passed. So I'll start up where I finished off.

Uyuni - Bolivian Altiplano
After a near disaster getting lost in a high altitude desert (see previous post) I hitched a lift to the nearest town, then paid a jeep to take me the rest of the way to Uyuni.

I was both physically and mentally spent by the time I arrived in Uyuni. I was also starting to develop stomach problems. That probably comes as no surprise to some of those who know me. I was pretty excited to see the Bolivian salt plains. It is one of the places that anybody who goes to South America would like to see. A magnificent and awe-inspiring landscape. Well, that's what they tell you.

Truth be told, it is an incredibly beautiful place, but my mind was not in the right place to appreciate it. I chose not to cycle on the salt plains as it was still flooded. During the summer months it essentially turns into the world's largest puddle. I have read accounts of people cycling across it in these conditions, but I decided against it. I wasn't really that confident enough to do it and after taking a wrong turn in the desert on the previous leg of my trip I really couldn't be dealing with any more hiccups.

Uyuni itself is not a particularly interesting place. It is very tourist-centric. It is very expensive by Bolivian standards and all of the restaurants are geared towards selling western food. After spending carnaval partying with a Bolivian family I found my new location very underwhelming. My guts were really not in a good way, so I spent a day moping around, mostly in bed, feeling knackered and decided to sign on to a tour of the salt plains on day two.


I should have been blown away by the landscape, but it was quite the opposite. The ride to the plain was a boneshaker. I was struggling to contain the contents of my stomach and guts. With each bump I really worried that I might vomit or shit my pants. Miraculously my body didn't fail me! I was incredibly relieved to get the hell out of that jeep. It didn't help that I had the most sickening Argentine/Bolivian couple eating each others faces off next to me and a bunch of 17 year old Chilean girls who happened to be selfie addicts sat in the front.

When I finally got over the jeep I ride I got to soak up the views. I just couldn't muster up any enthusiasm. I felt like I was staring out across an infinite white car park that stretched for as far as the eye could see. Clearly I had become jaded by my travels.


Uyuni was chock full of an unbelievable amount of Korean tourists. I had some fun conversations with these girls from Seoul. The Chileans and Bolivians in my jeep were not big fans of the Asians.


I only took a few photos on the Salar de Uyuni. Mostly because in every direction all I could see were people taking selfies and doing poses that make things look out of perspective. We were parked on the salt plains for hours under the most intense sunlight.


It was at Uyuni that I started to feel like I was finished with this trip and it was time to make decisions about when I would return to the UK. What suddenly triggered this? Well first I must must tell you about an encounter I had made a few days before...

When I was cycling out of San Pedro de Atacama up towards the Lagunas I took a break by the side of the road for some snacks and some water. A woman in a giant camper van pulled up a few hundred metres down the road. She emerged from the vehicle followed by her pet dog whom she proceeded to walk in my direction.

I got chatting to the lady who originated from France. Initially I was quite captivated about her story and her life. She had been travelling a long time and explained how San Pedro had changed over the past thirty years. The conversation quickly took a sour turn and she leaped into a diatribe against tourists and tourism in general. While I had a certain understanding of where she was coming from and I was quite sympathetic with what she was saying, I didn't like the overall negative tone of the conversation. This woman clearly thought that she was better than other 'travellers' and because I was on a bicycle she clearly viewed me as being better than other tourists. I was very uncomfortable with this. I am quite happy to label myself as a tourist and despite the fact that tourist hotspots can be dreadful places I hold nothing against other tourists. Ultimately no matter how hard one might think they are different from the crowd, you are a tourist as well.

Yes, she may have got there years before all these tourists around her, but it's quite clear why. She's decades older than them! It is frustrating to see how tourism can potentially contaminate a place, but for westerner to rock up in a country and be frustrated by the tourism which they have created reeks of hypocrisy...

...and that's why I started to question my journey. I had started to see elements of that woman in myself. Here I was at the Salar de Uyuni, a truly magnificent landscape incomparable to anything I have ever had the good grace of seeing and I'm comparing it to a car park. Something had clearly gone wrong. I put it down to a combination of things. It could have been from being so exhausted having cycled at such high altitude on such unforgiving terrain. It could have been that I had seen so many amazing things that I had simply raised the bar too high. Or it could have be the fact that I was so used to my own company and interaction with local people that tourists were simply getting on my nerves. Either way, I didn't like what I saw in myself. I decided that I would cycle to La Paz and make a decision from there.

Uyuni to Rio Mulato (approx 100 km)

I can't remember the exact distance I covered that day, but it was slightly over 100km. After the incredibly tough ride up from San Pedro, I thought that this ride would be much easier as it was alongside the altiplano. It was actually way tougher than I could have imagined. Uyuni is about 3,700 metres in altitude. The road was initially a horrendous washboard texture. I spent my time either juddering up and down, or my wheels would be swimming around in the sand. The effort was knackering.


After a few kilometres I spotted that the were building a new highway. Cars weren't allowed on it as it was not finished. Eventually it will be a seal road all the way to Oruro. It goes with out saying that I was straight up there the moment that I saw it. In the photo above you can see the crappy old road to the right. It was a massive relief to be riding on a smooth surface again.


My guts were feeling a lot better but I still had to stop for an explosive dump on the side of the road. Fortunately I was able to get out of sight unlike my experiences in the Atacama. Maybe my bowels are allergic to the desert?


Somehow I had managed to avoid any real problems with dogs on this trip. I had heard nothing but bad things about dogs in South America. Well that was about to change. I saw a handful of people working out here in this desert landscape, and this one woman's dog was not all that keen on my bicycle. At first it seemed quite playful, despite its bark. I came up with the idea of using my water to spray the dog. Initially it seemed to work, but he continued to chase after me when he realised that the water was harmless. I pedalled faster, but the faster I seemed to move the more agitated and aggressive the dog became. I squirted more of my water at the dog, but this had little effect (it was also a terrible idea to waste any water in this environment - but my immediate concern was to not get mauled by a fierce canine). I had only one option left. Pedal like a crazy man.

I spent every last bit of energy trying to out-cycle the dog and eventually got away from it. It seemed that there was a correlation between the speed of my bike and the ferocity of the dogs snarl. He was gnashing away, getting ever so close to my ankles. Once I was far away and in complete safety I stopped to gather my breath. I was crippled with exhaustion - my tank completely empty.

Later on I came across another angry dog. This time I changed tactics. I stopped cycling and got off the bike. The dog quickly lost interest and I walked my bike until I was well out of its range of curiosity. So that's my top tip. Don't try to out-cycle a crazy dog. Worst case scenario, it's time to throw stones.


Shortly before sunset I rolled up into Rio Mulato. I couldn't be bothered to cycle any further beyond here, so I headed to the station to find out about trains to Oruro. As I approached there was a full band playing. Carnaval celebrations were still in full swing! I got forced to pose in photos with a host of locals.


It turned out that there were no trains for a few days - shit - but there were buses to Oruro around midnight. I had a lot of time to kill until then. I got chatting to an engineer who was working on the new highway and his wife. Somehow we managed to have a relatively coherent conversation in spite of my broken Spanish. They offered to buy me dinner and I gratefully accepted the offer. My belly welcomed the fried chicken feast.

The bus to Oruro was three hours of total hell. When it arrived there was a huge frenzy as dozen as people battled to get on the bus. I was panicking trying to get my kit loaded under the bus. In the end I settled for a seat on the back of the bus. This turned out to be a serious error. I experienced what was easily the most reckless driving in existence. I think the driver thought he was in the Dakar rally. The roads were seriously bumpy and I frequently found myself thrown about a foot out of my seat. I had to endure an entire hour of that bullshit before we got onto sealed roads, then I managed to get some sleep.

I spent the night in Oruro in a stinky hotel by the bus station. The sheets smelled unwashed like old saliva. Have you ever smelled the end of a pen that someone has chewed on? Yeah, that was the smell. In the morning I decided that I couldn't be bothered to cycle to La Paz, so I took the bus... and guess what?

I left my passport at the hotel in Oruro. Bollocks.

La Paz
I spent the next day on the bus because I had to go and fetch my passport. After that false start I booked my flights back to London which left me with a week to kill in La Paz. I had heard bad things about La Paz, but I thought that it was in fact a really fun city with the most incredibly cityscape you could possibly see.


The house of democracy is in a state of disrepair.


This is Kurt. He was touring as well. He spotted me in the street, so we arranged to cycle out of town for the day.


It was a long uphill cycle (about 500 metres elevation) on the autopista before we got up El Alto.


Epically contrasting clouds. Somehow we avoided a soaking.


I had the theme tune to Airwolf stuck in my head after seeing this bus. It was the perfect tune to have in my head on the descent back down into La Paz.


This ride was possibly my favourite descent ever, despite the traffic and the near misses.



I may have ended my trip much earlier than anticipated, but I genuinely didn't see the point in continuing for the sake of it. Enjoyment was my primary motive, so once that had disappeared there was no reason to go further.  I don't really understand the point of pushing yourself through misery if it is going to have such a negative impact on the way you view things. It effectively taints your interaction with the culture and your surroundings. Travelling is supposed to be an uplifting thing. I do enjoy pushing myself with cycling. I love challenges, especially cycling in the mountains. I quite enjoy suffering on the bike, but after three months, it was time for a break.

I hope to return to Bolivia. I would even like to have another go at riding across the altiplano and through the Lagunas again, but not at the end of a three month trip and I would certainly prefer to do that with another cyclist for motivation. Sometimes it's good to ride solo. Other times it's the worst!

(Previous post: San Pedro to Uyuni)

San Pedro to Uyuni

(next page: Uyuni to La Paz)

I had a choice of two routes to head into Bolivia. The easier option would involve backtracking to Calama then heading into Bolivia via Ollague. The more difficult option would be to head straight into Bolivia from San Pedro via Las Lagunas (Laguna Blanca, Verde and Colorada). Neither option would be easy.

In the end I chose to try and go via Las Lagunas. I say "try" because I knew that it would be bloody difficult and I was never certain that I would complete the route, which is mostly dirt, sand, rocks and gravel, with passes of up to around 4,900 metres above sea level. I had read a lot about people having to push their bicycles for hours on end. Despite sounding like a bloody nightmare from start to finish, I thought I would give it a shot. I do like a challenge and I love cycling over mountain passes.


The day before leaving San Pedro I hiked up to this Mirador and caught a glimpse of the pass that I had to cross on day one. The pass is 4,600 metres above sea level and involved an ascent of around 2,200 metres or so. It doesn´t look so intimidating from here. Think again.

Day One - San Pedro to Laguna Blanca (55km)

I set off very early. I was at Chilean immigration at 8am to get my departure stamp in my passport. Foolishly I stayed out late the night before as good things were going on in San Pedro. It was a fun night but a major schoolboy error. It was pretty much flat for about 13km heading towards the pass.


On this route you pass some minefields - remants of conflicts past between Chile and Bolivia.


The beginning of the climb really was not that bad. It really started to get tough about half way up. That is when the altitude really started to affect me.


All through the climb you get amazing views of Volcan Licancabur.


I took a nap about halfway up after having some lunch and awoke to a bunch of wild donkeys behind me.


Somebody had written the altitude on some of the barriers en route. This is the first time that I had ever cycled above 4,000 metres. A few days before I took a tour up to The Tatio Geysers, which were about 4,200 metres, but hitting these heights on a bicycle is a serious punisher. I hadn´t really suffered from any altitude sickness, but at this point I felt immense fatigue. I don´t think the night out before helped in anyway shape or form. Usually I love to finght a hangover with a tough ride. It would work wonders. This does not apply at high altitude. Even mellow ascent take your breath and leave you completely shattered.


I ended up pushing for quite a few hours up this road. Despite being paved and not all that steep by low altitude standards, it completely dominated me. A few people stopped to see if I was okay during my regular roadside breaks. I was fine, just completely knackered and was wondering when the hell the top of the pass would come. Most people´s estimates were large, so I was really surprised and ecstatic to see this sign for the turn off into Bolivia. The pain was almost over!


Turning off towards Bolivia the dirt roads started. Suddenly I had to be so much more aware of my steering so I didnçt wipe out.

I eventually got into Bolivia and arrived at a refugio by Laguna Blanca around 7pm. I had only travelled around 55km, but it took all day and a whole lot of pushing. I hate pushing bicycles. If I enjoyed that I would get a job at a supermarket pushing trollies. The winds got stronger and the temperature dropped rapidly.

Day Two - Rest day
I was so exhausted after day one that I took a rest day and spent two nights at the refugio by Laguna Blanca. I thought it would also be a good idea for acclimatisation to the altitude. There were a couple of older German men that were on vacation climbing some mountains. They were going to climb Licancabur the next day.

I spent most of the day resting up and eating. Nobody was around. The winds started howling around midday. I started to suffer from a crisis of confidence. I had no belief that I could get through the whole way to Uyuni on bicycle. I kept staring at my map, a pdf that had been compiled by many cyclist that had done the route. In the end I decided to stop thinking about the long term goal. The next day I would just focus on getting to Salar de Chalviri.

Later on that day four young Austrian lads turned up in a tourist jeep and spent the night at the refugio. It was nice to have some company. Regretfully I kept referring to Germany, to which they constantly reminded me that they were Austrian. Whoops! Way to go Alasdair! They fed me some of their left over spaghetti bolognese. Their cook made way too much for the four of them.

Day Three - Laguna Blanca to Salar de Chalviri (44km)
I awoke at around 6am as the sun rose. I was dying to get going. All of my negative thoughts from the day before had evaporated. I packed up all of my stuff and got ready to set off. I was really excited. But, alas, I had somehow suffered a puncture. So I fixed it, pumped it up only for it to deflate immediately. I checked it for a second time. The inner tube had got pinched, so I had a snakebite puncture to deal with. Eventually I set off at around 8 am.

Flamingos at Laguna Blanca. It was amazing to be all alone in this magnificent landscape watching these birds. Nobody else was around. They were quite skittish. As I walked closer to take these snaps they took flight. It made for some nice photos though!


Laguna Verde. Yes, it is supposed to be bright green, but arrived very early, so it didn´t look so spectacular. If only I had shown up an hour later! I was trying to make early progress to avoid the winds.


The roads were really shitty, but not as bad as I had imagined. On day two I managed to cycle almost the entire way with the exception of about 200 metres or so at the steepest part of that day´s pass. I must admit though, I did wipe out on the gravel in the first twenty minutes of cycling.


Utter joy! Not so far from the top! Despite being completely out of breath almost the entire ride, it felt unbelievable to be in this place. It did not feel like being on earth at all. Once over the pass and I had caught my breath back I was able to relax and really soak everything in. This sky high desert is so beautiful, if not stark and bleak. It was definitely one of my happiest moments and I was sad not to be able to share it with a friend. I know so many people that would have loved to have come on this trip with me, but timing dictates everything.


The joy riding downhill. I quickly forgot about all the suffering and my attention focussed on trying to keep the bicycle upright on this mixture of washboard and gravel.


Looking back at the "Desierto del Dali" as I headed towards Salar de Chalviri.


There was a restaurant, hostel and hot springs at Salar de Chalviri. Despite being only 1pm when I arrived I decided to spend the night. I didn´t feel like tackling another pass that day. None of the refugios have showers so it was nice to soak in the hot springs after three days without washing. I managed to get sunburned shoulder while bathing.

The hostel had no room so I camped outside in my tent. It got pretty cold that night, but it didn´t feel too bad.


Llamas grazing by the hot springs.


It was carnival, so the locals covered me and my bike in streamers. See how my bike is placed beneath the window? A chinese man got really sick during the night and vomited all over my bicycle. He was so apologetic the next morning, but I found it hilarious. He washed the bike of course. That was probably the cleanest my bike has been on this entire trip!


After the tourist jeeps disappeared I was invited to join the party with a local family. I got thoroughly fed and filled to the brim with beer. I spent the whole afternoon and evening partying with them. It was a lot of fun and really boosted my spirits!


Getting wild!


Sunset over Salar de Chalviri.


Llamas by the hot springs at sunrise over Salar de Chalviri.

Day Four - Salar de Chalviri to Sol de Manana.
I rose early again and got on the road my about 7am. I was aiming to cycle about 50km to Laguna Colorada. I was feeling pretty good, but decided that I should take it day by day, so I would make a decision as to what to do next when I got to Laguna Colorada.


Flamingos in Salar de Chalviri.


More Vicuna.


The day started off nicely for about 7km, but as soon as the climb got started it wasn´t long before I was pushing again. I pushed my bicycles for hours. The landscape didn´t change at all. I had to stop so frequently to catch my breath. I was quite a sight, stood up, slumped over my handle bars. After several hours I reached a junction. Foolishly, I turned right, because that was where all the vehicles were going. Little did I know that they were heading directly back to Uyuni, not to Laguna Colorada.


Looking back towards Salar de Chalviri. This hill looks like nothing, but it defeated me.


It was moments after taking this photo that Bolivian men in a pick up truck stopped to ask me where I was going. They informed me about my wrong turn. I began to panic. I had just ridden several kilometres downhill and had no desire to go back up. I consulted my map to see if there was any information on this route. There wasn´t. Did I want to carry on down this route, or go back? Was I having any fun cycling the Lagunas route? Despite the amazing surroundings, the answer was "no". I decided that I really couldn´t be bother to ride this route any further. I wanted to ride my bike, not push it. I asked the two Bolivian men if they could give me a lift. They obliged and drove me to Villa Mar. It was a long drive and their was nothing inbetween there and where they had picked me up.

I was so relieved to be off my bicyle and sat in the pick up truck as we drove at break neck speed down a nasty road. Bolivian tunes blasting out of the stereo, I was having so much more fun that being sat on my saddle listening to the sound of the wind and my heart pounding in my throat.


I got dropped off in Villa Mar, a pretty little village with some amazing rock cliffs with a desert back drop. A river runs through it, so it is incredibly lush. You can see llamas grazing everywhere.

From Villa Mar I managed to negotiate a lift to Uyuni in a tourist jeep. They strapped my bicycle and kit to the roof and I sat in the back next to two young Koreans. There were also two Ecuadorians and Germans in the vehicle.


Valle de Rocas. I love this moss like plants. I have no idea what their name is. Answers on a postcard please!

So I´m sat here in an internet cafe in Uyuni. Bolivia is a world apart from Chile. There is such a huge difference. This town is much more raw that San Pedro, but it is completely geared towards tourism. I have also never seen so many Korean and Japanese tourists in my life! They are everywhere! I am going to do a full day and sunset tour of the Salar de Uyuni tomorrow. I think all of the other passengers are Korean.

I would have loved to have cycled across the Salar, but it is flooded. I think it would be really difficult to navigate in these conditions, although it definitely has been done before. Personally, I like my bicycle too much to ride it through a gigantic salt lake. The salt would totally screw the bike up. It is steel as well.

So my next step is to head north on dirt roads up towards Oruro and then La Paz. Paved roads should start again in about 180km. The altitude on the altiplano is around 3,750 meters, but being a plain I won´t have to deal with any mountain passes for quite some time, thank god. Wind is probably going to be the biggest obstacle along with the road conditions.

Despìte bailing out on the Lagunas route and taking a lift to Uyuni, I´m glad I gave it a try. Through trial and error I have learned that high altitude mountain passes are not for me! My body really doesn´t like them, I won´t make that mistake again... at least for a while. Later on, this trip will take me back up to 4,000 metres as I head towards La Paz, but it won´t be nearly as bad as the 4,700 metres dirt road passes I just encountered. I had some amazing moments on this leg of the trip, especially spending carnival with the Bolivian family at Salar de Chalviri. However I´m not sure if I would recommend it to anyone. Even the tourist that did the journey in jeeps complained of the monotony of the landscape and how slowly it changed. It´s a lot slower on a bicycle!

(next page: Uyuni to La Paz)