Vicuña at dusk on the Salar de Uyuni

That's not water, it's salt. At dusk the blinding glare of the white salt plain softened. The sun left the salar and briefly lit distant mountains and clouds. Three vicuña settled down on the plain a long way out from the shore. I guess they were as safe there as anywhere — nothing could sneak up on them there.


[23 October 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 300 mm, ISO 100, 1/30 at f8]


All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

On the train from Oruro to Uyuni

I have no idea how people survive in places where water seems like a fiction, something old people tell stories about. "When I was a chica, it rained here," she says, but her granddaughter doesn't understand.

The thunderclouds always seemed to rise somewhere else, behind mountains, over someone else's shrivelled crops.

[Read more on Pohanginapete]


[22 October 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 14–45 mm at 34 mm, ISO 200, 1/1250 at f8]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Dog on the Salar

Not all the wildlife was wild—some of the domestic wildlife was just as appealing. This little guy lived where we stayed on our first night on the Salar de Uyuni.


[24 October 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 14–45 mm at 45 mm, ISO 200, 1/100 at f11]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

James's (puna) flamingo

At somewhere around 5000 metres, the ability of anything to live seems astonishing. Yet the saline lakes of Bolivia's altiplano were home to hundreds of birds, including many of these James's (puna) flamingos (Phoenicoparrus jamesi). I never tired of seeing them.


[25 October 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 300 mm, ISO 200, 1/2000 at f8]

All content © 2012 Pete McGregor

Sunrise on the Salar de Uyuni

A 4:30 a.m. start followed by a steep climb up the flanks of the volcano wasn't easy, but we arrived on time as the first sunlight touched the summit. We watched while the warm light crept down the mountain and thought ourselves lucky to have a guide like José, who knew how to persuade us to rise before dawn, knew how to time our arrival perfectly, and knew we'd appreciate the effort.

That's neither cloud nor water down there — it's salt.

[23 October 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 100 mm, ISO 400, 1/320 at f8]

All content © 2011 Pete McGregor

Evening on the edge of the Salar

On the second evening we stayed on the edge of the Salar in a quiet little village where, José told us, the young people had left to seek more advanced education. I walked through the empty lanes at dusk to the edge of town where ribbons of tattered plastic hung from a single strand of loosely strung barbed wire — the boundary of a roughly ploughed, dusty field. A breeze fluttered the plastic and tugged at my hair; the sky darkened; a bird sang.

Eventually I turned and walked back to the salt hotel where the window of the dining room burned yellow in the dusk.

[24 October 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 100–300 mm at 193 mm, ISO 400, 1/125 at f8]

All content © 2011 Pete McGregor

Near Oruro, from the train

As the train left Oruro, the first hints of the salar appeared. On the other side of the train, the wetlands retained a layer of water that supported hundreds of birds, of which flamingoes were the most obvious, but on my side only occasional small ponds supported apparent life.

[New post up on Pohanginapete: Leaving Huaraz]

[22 October 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 14–45 mm at 40 mm, ISO 200, 1/1600 at f8]

All content © 2011 Pete McGregor

Bolivian altiplano

At roughly 4700 metres, the the highest point of our traverse of the altiplano (a.k.a. puna) between the Salar de Uyuni and Eduardo Avaroa Andean National Fauna Reserve on the third day of the tour felt like the roof of the world. For some, this might be one of the bleakest landscapes on earth; for all of us, it felt exhilarating.

[25 October 2011, Panasonic Lumix GH1, 14–45 mm at 14 mm, ISO 200, 1/500 at f16]

All content © 2011 Pete McGregor

Uyuni street scene

A typical scene from Uyuni, which is geared up for running tours of the Salar (salt lake). Apparently, over 70 operators compete for the constant stream of tourists. We eventually settled on Quechua Connection, and with José as our guide, driver and cook, I can't imagine having a better tour. I was lucky, too, with my excellent companions from Italy and France.



All content © 2011 Pete McGregor

From the train to Uyuni

Filippo, Davide and I took a bus from La Paz to Oruro, then the train to Uyuni — the only train journey of these travels. The landscape from the train captivated me completely, but over the next four or five days I almost ran out of words to describe the spectacular lands through which we travelled.



All content © 2011 Pete McGregor

The Salar de Uyuni

The enormous salt flats near Uyuni in Bolivia make up a landscape unlike any I've ever been in.I spent four wonderful days with Filippo and Davide (Italy), Jean-Baptiste and Eugenie and Vincent (France), and our guide/driver/cook José, who spoke excellent English and looked after us superbly. This is one of the reasons for the hiatus in posting recently, but I trust I'll make up for it over the next few days.


All content © 2011 Pete McGregor

From the Muela del Diablo

My Italian friends, Davide and Filippo, and I hired a taxi in La Paz and visited several nearby places including the remarkable, savagely rain-eroded landscape around the Muela del Diablo. We saw no other tourists and only a couple of local people. We climbed as high as was safe on the Muela itself and were treated to fantastic (in several senses) views, including this, when the late sun highlighted one of the area's remarkable features.

Apologies for the lack of recent posting. I've been travelling away from Internet access, and even when it again became possible, it wasn't easy. I'm now in Salta in Argentina, scared by the expense of the place (especially after the cheap and wonderful Bolivia) and rushing to get to Patagonia where, among other things, I trust I'll be able to stop bleeding money by camping :^(



All content © 2011 Pete McGregor

Lake Titicaca

From Copacabana the boat journey to the Isla del Sol takes roughly an hour and a half. I found the trip enjoyable and relaxing — something about the continuous roar of an outboard motor seems strangely meditative to me.

Once again my journey south has been delayed by protests. The road out of Copacabana has been blockaded, apparently in protest at some judicial decision. Apparently, though, it's possible to take a minibus to the blockade, walk through and take another minibus to the straits of Tiquina where the ferry crosses to where I can catch yet another minibus to La Paz. I'll try early tomorrow morning, but I'm lucky — Copacabana's not a bad place in which to be stuck, even if not quite as appealing as the wonderful Huaraz in Peru, where I was last delayed by similar action. Still, I'm keen to keep moving south so I'm not short of time in Patagonia.




[17 October 2011 [Ecuador], Panasonic Lumix GH1, 14–45 mm at 17 mm, ISO 200, 1/320 at f16]

All content © 2011 Pete McGregor