a self-supported bicycle tour through South America

29^th September to 2^nd October: Salinas – Incahuasi (74km) – Uyuni (96km)

With 16 kilos of water loaded onto the bikes, we started out early the following day. Neither of us had slept well - we are not sure if it was because of the too soft beds at the hostel or the excitement of finally getting on the Salar de Uyuni. Nevertheless, we made great ground back on the salt with the wind behind us before we hit the mountain pass which required mostly pushing over boulders and uphill. Yay!

But at the top was our reward; our first view of the fabled Salar de Uyuni, the largest salt lake in the world. We couldn’t wait to get onto it, so with GPS to hand we started our crossing to our first port of call, Isla de Incahuasi, a mere 42km away.

We were really excited about being on the salt lake as it was a part of the trip that we had very much been looking forward to and had heard so much about. It was everything and more than we had expected, but was nevertheless a completely surreal experience. After days of washboard and sandy roads, it was so lovely to be able to pick up speed. The salt was hard and crunchy and even with the wind in front of us and extra weight we were having fun.

The contrast of the white salt and blue, blue sky made for a spectacular scene. We had never experienced anything like it in our lives and have both commented that it was probably the best thing we have ever done…ever! We had read that the Salar was busy with Toyota Land cruiser traffic, but guessing it was because of the remote direction we had come from we seemed to have the Lake to ourselves; an absolute pleasure.

We could see vehicles in the far distance though but they merely seemed like ink blots on paper as they shimmered in the Salar heat. As the kilometers were being eaten up, our destination slowly came into view and we were very much looking forward to the delicious cooked meal that we had read about in other cyclists’ journals. As we got closer and closer, we could make out figures in the salt that turned out to be tourists and Toyotas, and then there were more; tourists and Toyotas everywhere!

After spending the last week pretty much in our own company, apart from the odd Emu, Alpaca and Vicuna, this sight was somewhat daunting. We rolled onto the shores of the island to be faced with the throng of tourists on Salar tours having picnics and wondering around taking photos. They were fascinated by us and we felt very proud to have arrived there on our own steam. Literally!

Starving hungry and dying for a cold softie we quickly made a bee line for the fabled restaurant, Mungo’s, to discover that yes it was open, the cook was letting his mates get drunk in the back room, the drinks weren’t cold and the food was crap! Disappointed and somewhat deflated partly because of the food and partly due to the indifference of the locals to tourists we headed around the corner to set up camp for the night as we watched the cook, and his eight mates jump into a Corolla and speed off across the Lake. Where is the breatho when you need it?

Glad to be out of site of the billion Toyota’s we set up camp. Simon couldn’t get over having to hammer the tent pegs into the salt with pieces of coral – I was supervising and taking photos. It looked like ice, crunched like gravel but was dry, white and chalky. We were rewarded by a beautiful sunset, however, and even took a joyride across the salt by moonlight. Definitely something to write home about!

The next morning, fed up with having to cook porridge and wash up afterwards, we thought we would risk Mungo’s again for breakfast. Bad move. The restaurant was closed but the little café was open so we parked up and ate stale bread caramel spread; mmm, very satisfying breakfast for the intrepid cyclist. I don’t think so!

As we sat down, an elderly man raced off and brought back journals for us to sign. Perplexed, we remembered that we had been told that anyone who arrives on the Island by their own means are entitled to stay in a lodge free of charge that is run by an elderly couple who keep journals for people to sign. Apart from the fact that we parked our bikes right outside the restaurant the day before, the locals weren’t offering up any information even when we asked about a hotel. This morning, however they seemed so friendly…….until I knocked my tea over the table cloth and the wife of the elderly man shouted and tut tutted at me. A speedy exit was required! Simon thinks that they probably tore our entry out as soon as we were gone; that wouldn´t surprise me.

With GPS in hand, and the wind behind us with our destination the Salt Hotel, we made the most of our isolation and took some time out for photos. The Mountain Goat took great pleasure in stripping down to his birthday suit and cycling freestyle for a while. Mum you will be pleased to know that I didn´t take part although the temptation was there, but sunburn can be a killer!

After several 10km breaks we spotted two other cyclists coming in the opposite direction so headed across to the salt to say g´day and compare notes. Right on our tale were another couple of cyclists who we had met briefly the night before and so became the meeting of the cycle tourists smack bang in the middle of the Salar! This little meeting accounted for more cyclists than we had seen the whole trip.

We then pushed on to the Salt Hotel for lunch - two minute noodles cooked by Master Chef Mountain Goat - where we became the tourist attraction again. Tourists from the jeep tours were crowding around wanting autographs and their photos taken with us. We were once again sooooooooooo glad that we weren´t touring by Jeep. After lunch we stocked up on necessities from the Hotel´s shop (and the finest selection we had seen for a very long time I might add) - Milka chocolate, Pringles, M&M´s , Coke and Snickers - and made tracks for the edge of the Salar and the bumpy road into Uyuni.

With such wonderful tail winds all day, Uyuni and a hot shower were too tempting to pass up, but as the Belgium’s had reached the hotel before us we arrived to find that there was but a mere trickle of hot water left. I have been braving the cold showers every day, but the Mountain Goat is up to day 3 without washing. Not a good thing when we are about to hit the road again!

So, we have reluctantly spent the last 3 days whiling away our time in Uyuni waiting for the train to Argentina. We ran into our Spanish companion again and shared his night time Salar crossing over cold Coronas. We also introduced him to the Belgium boys and all three have now joined forces to climb some volcano at 6000m south west of here with bikes in tow; completely “bonkers” as the Mountain Goat would say.

We are looking forward to Argentina now and are finding this time off a little stir crazy. The internet access here is terrible and the food not much better, so only another 7 hours till the night train and we are off.[Jen]