A village appears for a moment, bathed in dim moonlight.

Not a single light burns in the cluster of dark houses and dead alleys. The village falls back behind us, we hurry on, fast, faster, with only the monotonous hum of the engine in the ears, toward the invisible horizon, the full moon as a silent guardian above us.

The tired mind dreams

The tired mind imagines a soundless movement, more a gliding or flying, as if on wings, along the lonely plains, where the silhouettes of solitary trees shimmer in the moonlight. It doesn't see trees, but an army of mute, dead soldiers, standing in rank and file, motionless, the tree tops stabbing the sky like spears.

It hears nocturnal voices whispering, it feels the wind gently stroking skin and face ...

Perhaps it is the weariness, the moment before falling asleep, the lulling sound of the engine, the quiet movements of fellow passengers in their sleep creating such thoughts. Uyuni is long behind us, it has become quiet in the bus.

Slowly the cold creeps up my legs from the floor, I am glad for the blanket and cuddle up. A wonderfully comforting feeling of coziness surrounds me like an extra warm blanket.

But there is a long night and over 550 kilometers ahead of us. I've been assigned a single seat, a cama as they say here, so it's a very comfortable way to spend the ride. But my stupid knee still finds that there is no position in which it really feels comfortable, so back and forth and back again and bend again ...

Eventually, despite everything, I fall asleep.

A boring backpacker dump

It's been a long day in Uyuni.

Actually, I hate those days when you have to check out at eleven, but the bus doesn't leave until eight in the evening. There are places where you nevertheless have a great time, in Sucre for example, with thousands of new places to discover in one day.

Not in Uyuni. Basically, it's a barren, boring village at the proverbial ass of the world, with only the nearby Salt Lake and Railway Cemetery adding any significance. There are few sights, if one can speak of sights at all.

Uyuni

uyuni 2

uyuni 3

uyuni 4

I am meandering through the alleys, bored, looking for anything interesting, and actually come across a highlight of rare artlessness. It is a monument for some war heroes, of course in warlike pose, but made of light green material.

A light green monument? I am at a loss for words.

GreenMonument

Later, I end up at the abandoned train station, whose last visitors might have been some of the rusting trains in the cemetery. The emptiness is frightening and sad. Are these more witnesses to an inevitable decline? The only hope is that the salt lake will not dry up for a few more years (which cannot be ruled out in view of climate change).

deserted railway station in Uyuni deserted railway station in Uyuni 2

One of the last railroad carriages has been assigned a special place, making it worse. One imagines the past, the hustle and bustle at the station, the wonderful sounds of the trains arriving. As a great railroad aficionado, my heart almost breaks.

The history of the railroads in South America is a particular tragedy. Whereas just a few years ago hundreds, thousands of kilometers of rail network were in operation, today there are only a few pitiful lines left. Instead, buses now run on all routes, and the bus stations are larger than airports. A shame and a disgrace, if one thinks about the future of the climate, which is also leaving the first evil traces in South America.

old train carriage in Uyuni

The Indio women - dignified and lovable

While roaming the alleys, one eventually comes across the local Indio ladies. They are a feast for the eyes after all the dull places and even duller sights. Their dresses are very special, anything but our idea of fashion. But worthy of admiration in spite of, or because of, that. I especially like their hats and the stockings under the wide skirts. Wonderful ...

Alley in UyuniIndian women in Uyuni Indian Women in Uyuni 2Indian Women in Uyuni 3

Mass Tourism

As mentioned, it is a typical backpacker village.

When this species shows up in large numbers in the same place, it quickly becomes tedious, just as with mass tourism (which comes a bit later). Like everywhere else in the world, there are a thousand traveler hangouts, all offering the same 0815 dishes such as pizza, falaffel, sandwiches and the like.

The food is generally bad, the service unfriendly (even in countries where friendliness and respect are part of the national character), and if there is one place where you can get a ruined stomach, it is here.

The hostels are overpriced, in poor condition and the staff doesn't give a damn about their guests (this also applies to the hotels, as I may say from my own painful experience). There are always new tourists visiting anyway, so why bother.

This is - or rather was - Uyuni. In a sea of wonderful experiences it's the toxic stain of oel floating on the water ...

Mileage: unknown

Matching Song:   Freur - Riders in the Night

And here the trip continues ... in La Paz

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