Bolivia, Oruro to Uyuni - tales of the most fantastic journey- Part I

We all have within us a little adventurous soul, an avid Indiana Jones on the cabinets of our imagination. We all want to uncover untapped land, jungles with ancient ruins, meet exotic people. Deep inside, we all want to be free from the trap set by daily routines. We want to live different realities from our own. But in this globalized world there are not many places where man has not trampled, or ruins that have not been discovered...

I also sought adventure, I also wanted to reveal virgin lands and exotic people when I invested on this journey, and I have already many stories to tell, enough to write a book, but nothing felt really adventurous or unique, until I experienced the Bolivian Altiplano. For those who dare to live their lives on surprises, challenges and the unexpected, then the Altiplano is the place to go!

About the Altiplano



To understand Bolivia one has to understand it´s Altiplano. A place at first sight arid and desertic, but where 70 percent of the Bolivian population (most of them between Uyuni and Lake Titicaca) lives. Despite being the place with the highest concentration of population it still manages to be desolated and isolated. By the words of the article that came out in National Geographic of July 2008: "... the Altiplano is a land of superlatives: houses the largest and highest navigable lake in the world, the Titicaca, the largest desert of salt, the salt flat of Uyuni, is the second biggest plateau in the world, after the Tibetan, is a landscape of ice, fire, wind and salt that extends from the septentorial regions of Argentina to the plains of Peru. ... Perhaps, no other landscape on this planet reminds us that there were times when humans didn’t live in it." It is an area with great geological activity and so is rich in minerals, some volcanoes are active or semi-active. It is also a land populated by flamingos using the sulfurous lakes and their margins to build their nests, land of vicuñas, llamas, alpacas, suris (ostriches), foxes and other animals. The Altiplano is a single universe where only the bravest or the craziest dare to really unravel.



From Oruro to Sabaya, let the show begin...



Oruro is the last town before reaching Uyuni, there, we bought groceries, checked the equipment and did the final preparations. When talking with the locals about our intentions to cross the two salt flats (of Coipasa and Uyuni), they said that we were crazy, we would die frozen since it was the coldest time of the year, our tires would erode with the salt, we would be swallowed by the “eyes of water” formed in the salt flats, that we would get lost...what people didn’t realise was that those comments gave us even more desire to unravel with our bikes this much feared salt flats.

An "eye of water" in Coipasa Salt Flat

Popóo Lake


We had breakfast at the market - two sandwiches of roast pork, cut right in front of us, and half liters of fruit juice each, we are cyclists and have adventures to live, we need energy.

The Popóo Lake, in the outskirts of Oruro gives us a sample of what is to come: flamingos and waters that mirror the mountains and volcanoes that surround it. In the mid-afternoon we reached Toledo, a small village, where the tarmac road ended.



Despite being large, the dirt road was infested with washboards, something that neither we, nor our bicycles appreciate. In the end, the road becomes so unbearable that we decide to improvise a way through the pampa where we camped at dusk. We were cooking dinner when, from nowhere, appears a couple of farmers, with their flashlights, they were scared of us that they wanted to know what we were doing there, after they realize that we were only two cyclists on the road, they returned to their homes somewhere in the vast pampa. That night the temperature fell to 12 degrees minus.

Camping site in the pampa

Break for lunch


We woke up for another day of cycling, the road continued with washboards, we decided to follow the paths in the pampa. The sandwiches of canned fish were enhanced by the magnificent site where we decided to have lunch: a small salar which was full of water in its center, in the distance we could see the unmistakable pink dots- the flamingos.


The vast pampa

From the smooth pampa starts to erupt the first hills, we set ou tent on top of one of them and experienced the coldest night of the trip, minus 17 degrees. In the following days the ups and downs and the bad state of the road continue. We reach Ancavari and to our surprise there is a brand new paved road that wasn´t signaled in our map, this road would take us to Huachacallas.

Unfortunately the head wind makes its appearance and the bikes now run at a slow pace, it is difficult for us to move forward because the wind feels like an invisible wall, our bike computers show an average speed of 6 to 7 kilometres per hour, despite the road being almost flat and paved.

Again, tarmac road

We went through another village, Opoqueri, where we bought canned food, potatoes, biscuits and coca leaves, which we learnt to chew with the friends we previously known in Oruru, they supposedly help us to overcome the altitude simptoms, hunger and lack of energy . We camped a few kilometres from the village. The vicuñas, wild relatives of the llama, were our guards that night. Another cold and starry night extends its mantle over our tent and bikes.

Nuno buying lunch from a street vendor in Ancaravi

Church in Opequeri

We arrived in Huachacallas the following day, the wind had slowed down and there was a store selling vegetables and some food, but our MSR (stove that works with petrol) was empty and the petrol station in the village too. Bolivía is going through a political, economic and social crisis and despite the government denials, the lack of supply of fuel is already affecting much of the country.

Chipaya buildings at sunset

We went to Chipaya, a village of myths and legends, home to the Chipayas - descendants of the Tihawuanaco culture, one of the first and most advanced civilizations of America. Once we got out of Huachacallas we were forced to cook with firewood, because we could not find fuel anywhere. The pots that Nuno maintained so imaculate, became black from the flames, I couldnt stop noticing some comotion in Nuno’s eyes seing his pots being burnt, but I cooked a good dinner and the sky was full of bright starts so what are two black pot in the scheme of things?

Funerary buildings on the way to Sabaya

On the way to Chipaya we found some peculiar constructions, and I suppose it was my spirit of "Indiana Jones" that made me stop the bike and check what they were. To my surprise, within those odd constructions there were skulls and bones, they were funerary buildings of the former Chipayas. That day also, we had to cross one of the many frozen rivers, I remember this event dearly (despite my feet had almost reached freezing point), as we helped some shepperds to cross a huge herd of sheep who did not want, wisely, to cross the icy cold river waters. I put a few small lambs under my arms, they were frignthened and shaking. After many failed attempts, we finally managed to cross the stuburn herd.

Crossing the cold River Lauca with a herd of sheeps

Chipaya still preserves its traditions - women have their hair with braids, and many men wear a quite distinct poncho. We stayed in the meeting hall of the village, next to the Alcalde’s house. The culture of Chipaya is one of the most interesting of Bolivia, they have a language quite distinct from the Quechua or Aymara (the two indigenous languages most spoken in the country) and they are descendants of the Urus, the people of the floating islands of Lake Titicaca.

Sta. Ana de Chipaya village


In the following morning we went in search of food and gasoline but we didn't have any luck with our serches, we managed to find a little more than a tin of canned fish, some eggs, some biscuits and no petrol, - "perhaps in Sabaya," we were informed. We started to get some grips with the reality: small groceries have increasingly less groceries and vegetables or fruit are unexistent. We look to our panniers and the shelves of the stores with concern, would the food that we have, be enough for our cycling needs? It doesn´t seem so.

Children observing something inside a local school in Chipaya


From Chipaya to Llica - On sand dunes and the crossing of the first salt flat

We asked the locals if there was a direct road between Chipaya and Sabaya without having to go back and cross the frozen river of the previous day. The answers are unanimous: there is a trail through the pampa and it is shorter despite having more sand. It seems doable to us, sand is something that we knew that in one way or another would appear along the way. We are told that it is about 30 to 40 kilometres away, and we estimate that one day would be enough to arrive at Sabaya. An elderly man pointed us to a hill showing that Sabaya was at its base, and also showed us where the river was less deep so we could cross it with our bikes, it is the Lauca river that flows to the salt flat of Coipasa. We cross the freezing river, it was a gray and windy day. We did not know that by crossing that river we had also entered a different world where the unexpected and the bizarre were waiting for us.

Between Chipaya e Sabaya


At the beginning there were many paths where one stood out clearly, but after 5 kilometers, the paths multiplied without much order or direction, we looked the distant hill as a reference point to choose our path. Around us, hundreds of round buildings with blocks made of mud and salt extracted from the soil, challenging the winds, the rain, the sun and the time, they were the original construction of Chipayas and we could see them for miles. They don't seem to be used anymore and there is no sign of human presence, the silence is sharp and the feeling of isolation, the biggest I ever experienced.

From multiple trails the landscape changes into flooded areas of water and salt, we can not ride the bicycles, there is mud and sludge everywhere. We had to remove the panniers and move them one by one so we didn´t get stuck in the mud. From nothing, a little black piglet appeared, it started to follow us as if it was desperate for company, but it couldn't keep up with us. It woudld have been nice to have the little piglet as our pet, but surely belonged to someone, so we had to let it go. The wind lifted with frightening strenght. At 4 PM we decided to seek shelter in one of the circular buildings of the Chipayas so we can spend the night sheltered from the wind.

Little piglet in the vast pampa




The following day we looked at Chipaya in the distance, and decided to move forward because we did not want to cross those frozen rivers and swamps again. Surely the path would improve, or so we expected. The soil cycled by our bicycles began to become sandy, we spent the next 20 kilometres pushing the bikes through sand, which given the weight of its panniers was an extremely slow and painful exercise.

Nuno pushing his bike through sand dunes


We weren´t certain that we were on the right track, and the mountain in the distance was our only point of reference. We had lunch, a tin of canned fish, but to my shock, what I see inside is a brown paste that looks like cat food. We drank a cup of coffee each and packed our things. I turned around and I hear a Baaannng!!! A dry sound in the sand - I think Nuno´s bike had fallen and was about to say something when I turn around and realise that it wasn´t Nuno´s bike that was lying unconscious on the floor, but Nuno! I thought, "what a great place to faint, at least it was sand and not rough ground." I ran to him, and try to look as less worried as possible, when he finally awakens in my arms. - "What happened?", he asks me. - "You fainted!, I said. And while Nuno vocalized the reasons why he might have fainted, in my head, the plans of what would be if his condition got worse were taking shape: I would set the tent up where, I would leave him, I would warm the hot water bottles and cook, and would go by foot to Sabaya to look for help.

Sand and more sand


Nuno decided to continue after recovering from the fright. The sand was getting more intense and we made turns to head the way so that the one following behind had to do less effort pushing the bike. The wind was very strong, and this not only made difficult the already difficult task of pushing the bikes, but also was painfull and did not allow us to breathe properly. It was real torture!

...and yet more sand!

I was concerned about Nuno, I felt he was weak, but we had to keep moving, we had no choice. To my dismay a huge dune rose up in our path. We pushed the bikes, one at a time, and after we overcome that big dune we continued our saga through the altiplanic sand. The wind was strong, and the night was falling, we were determined to reach Sabaya that day, but reality stroke back - not one but an infinity of dunes extended right in front of our eyes.

Dunes standing in our way to Sabaya

It was madness to continue. From the top of the dunes in the distance we could see the tower of the church, but we would have to leave the crossing of that sea of sand for the next day, the wind and cold was getting too strong. We looked at our supplies, there wasn’t much left and water was little more than enough to cook something for dinner and breakfast. We thought that the following day would be even worse baring in mind the amount of sand dunes that we had ahead of us. It was obvious that the concept of path to the locals was quite a different one from the one that we had.



The following day were still visible the tracks left by two locals who also dragged their bikes in the evening to Sabaya. We followed the paths that led us to Sabaya in less than three hours, avoiding the larger dunes. We decided that we would take that day to rest our tired bodies and bones. We went to buy vegetables but were unable to find them anywhere, in the end we had to convince the owner of a restaurant to sell us some carrots, potatoes and onions. We also managed to find some gasoline.

Tracks from the bikes the previous night


Crossing an icy cold river (ice on the banks are visible)

Sabaya village


We headed to Villa Vitallina to cycle in our first major salt flat - Coipasa.

Arrival at Villa Vitallina


After we cycled about some 10 kilometres in the salt flat, we reached the island that is located in its center, the real crossing would be made the following day. Some people warned us that the salt flat still had water, we did not know very well what to think of that, nor if that meant that we could not cross it.

Sunset in Coipasa island


The next day we were back in the salt flat and everything around us was pure white, there was no water to be seen, we ventured the crossing. All I could hear was the sound of our tires crushing the salt under it. The sky was blue and the air crystalline, the hills on the horizon silent. We followed the marcs left by car tires but they became less marked and started to disappear, we saw land, but it was impossible to calculate the distance, and at the end of the day, the unexpected happened - water, water everywhere and we did not know how many kilometres and how deep it was. We cycled back where the salt flat was dry. The night fell and we did not want to freeze trying to cross the salt flat. We would camp in it and we would reevaluate our options the following day.

Blue sky in Coipasa Salt Flat




Surrounded by water in Coipasa Salt Flat

We set the tent in the rough ground of the salt flat. We felt the cold coming from the ground, but the night temperatures were not as low as we expected.The sunset was glorious,one of the most beautiful I had ever experienced in my life. The following day, we decided to cross the water, because we did not want to go back. Pedaling the mirror like landscape was just one of the most amazing things I ever done. The water was reflecting everything around it as if it was as a clear echo of the mountains and the the sky. It was like being in a surrealistic painting.

First camp site in the salt flat of Coipasa


We reached land without sinking the bicycles. The brakes, changes and chain were a little stiff from all the salt and water.



We reached water at the end of the day

Mirror reflections in Coipasa Salt Flat

Winter fall fashion for salt flats crossings



In the small village of Tres Cruces we bought a few more canned food and potatoes filled the bottles with water. We asked a local for the best way to reach Challacollo. A motorcycle passes by and the guy says: " - easy just follow the marks left by that motorcycle." This was what we did. Another mistake, the motorcycle took in fact the shortest way, but also the sandiest. We had to push the heavy bikes through the sandy roads all morning, we didn´t managed to advance more than 5 kilometres, until we decided to make a detour and take the bicycle to the edge of the salt flat, which was a sandy but cyclable road.

That road brought us to Challacollo in the afternoon, and I asked another local if we were still far from Llica. He said that it was only 12 kilometres away and gave me directions. Of course, once again these directions were wrong and we found some more sandy paths where we had to push our bikes through. We camped at the end of the day feeling completely lost, it just didn´t make sense. A farmer riding a bicycle with his small daughter in the back, confirmed, what we suspected, we were in the wrong direction. We had to go back to next junction and get the correct road to Llica.

Llica to Uyuni, the crossing of the biggest salt flat in the world





Llica has one of the main entrances to Uyuni´s salt flat in its north part. There, we found food accommodation and even Internet to communicate to the world that we were well and alive. We left the day after for the very expected crossing. The Coipasa salt flat has only 64 kilometres, which compared with the 180 that we would cycle in Uyuni, are insignificant. The Uyuni salt flat is the most visited and therefore the sense of isolation is not as great as in Coipasa, every now and then, a Jeep loaded with less adventurous tourists passes by.

There are several islands in the salt flat, they are the remains of ancient volcanoes. These islands are full of fossils of corals, signs of the times when they were covered by sea. We camped on the island of “Pescado”, the biggest and least visited. In the distance we could see Tunupa, a volcano that is semi-active. The sunsets in the Altiplano, particularly in the salt flats are truly unique: shades of pink and blue sky contrasting with the white of the salt and the silhouette of the surrounding mountains and volcanoes.



On the second day of crossing we sighted in the midst of a vast white surface a ciclotourist – Herve from Switzerland. We set our tents and in the cold night we shared information, adventures and ingredients, preparing pasta with tomato sauce and vegetables - a classic amongst cyclists. We got on pretty well because Herve had the same philosophy of traveling – just taking it easy and enjoying the moment. He was working in Africa as a Safari guide for a few months and was travelling the remaining months around the world, what a dream!

Camp site with Herve


At half past seven at night we were forced to withdraw to our tents, it was too cold even to allow the thoughts to come out and become sentences. I got myself inside my sleeping bag and felt something wet inside it. Panic, red lights flashing inside my brain, my sleeping bag was wet and it was a really cold night, I thought I would die frozen... I put my hands inside the sleeping bag to access what had happened and realise that my hot water bottle had bursted, my sleeping bag could not be used. I look at Nuno and said – “ I think we are going to have to share your sleeping bag!”. We try to get inside it but it was just too narrow, it was obvious that we wouldn't be able to close the zip to the top. We had a laughter attack, trying to move inside it, as we were coordinating our movements. In the end we managed to fall asleep, but it was a really cold night, I think we would have frozen if it wasn´t for the warmth of each others bodies.



The next day, we said goodbye to our friend and left in opposite directions. The white and the silence seemed to be endless. We finished to cross the slat flat at Colchani, there, we spent the night in a hotel made with blocks of salt.



We cycled up to 20 kilometres to Uyuni the following day in more sandy and wasboard roads. Uyuni is a small and disappointing city as the point of arrival for the adventures we had lived the last weeks. In Uyuni there´s a graveyard of locomotives, about 80 agencies, tours and a lots of cold.

Salt hotel in Colchani


Antonio Queiros, a Portuguese motorcyclist was there waiting for us, we is heading North, to Alaska, and it was really nice to catch up with another Poirtuguese adventurer, which seems to be rare these days.

Nuno and António Queirós in Uyuni


In Uyuni we updated websites and prepared the next adventure towards the highest road in the world that goes up to 5800 meters, but that is another story not to be missed.



Check also Nuno’s site on http://ontheroad.eu.com/ for a different view on my stories.

Antonio Queirós adventures are available on http://viajardemoto.blogspot.com/