Eventually we set out and soon see the truly amazing heart of the Salar. The horizon disappears. It's an absolutely gorgeous day for admiring the beautiful whiteness—the sky couldn't be bluer or more clear. Sunglasses are a necessity here, as the reflection is blinding.

Mercedes poses with our jeep

Salt piles outside the Salt Hotel

Ojos de Salar

The salt crust is such a strange phenomenon. The rest of the morning is basically various photo op stops, marveling at the whiteness, at the thickness, at the strength to withstand so many cars and people year after year. How does the salt maintain itself?

We stop by what is apparently the "official" Hotel de Sel, which couldn't possibly have been the one we tried to book because it's too deep into the Salar. This place is DEFINITELY completely made of salt. Hemmy and I buy very cute llama-shaped salt figurines. Other stops are the Ojos de Salar, a cool spot where the crust breaks and water bubbles up underneath, and the Montagnes de Sel, which are basically piles of salt being collected for processing. We learn nothing about the actual process however...I think that's a separate tour.

We bid farewell to the beautiful Salar and enter the tiny town of Colchani, which seems to exist mainly as a salt souvenir outpost. We are dismayed to see that salt llamas are half the price of those at the Hotel. The difference is only 60 cents, but it's hard to avoid some buyer's remose—I mean, half price, right? There is apparently a small museum in Colchani as well, but we don't visit it...we get distracted by a shop's pet baby vicuna and pet baby llama instead. So freaking cute!

Mercedes provides a feast for lunch, but since it was prepared ahead of time while we waited for Gilles and Sonia, much of it is cold and soggy by now. I opt out of the pasta and salads, and content myself with makeshift salchipapas...still haven't regained much appetite.

Polish Anya unwittingly feeds the baby her lunch

We finally get a longer chat with Angel and Mercedes, who'd we'd suspected from their near-constant bickering were married. But they are most definitely not....in fact, Mercedes owns the car and thus, is Angel's boss! Angel is in his 50s, and thinks of all of us as his children. What a sweetheart...if only he'd been a better guide. Angel has only been working for Tupiza Tours for a few months, and actually used to be a bus driver for Juarez on none other than the Tarija-Tupiza route! Funny coincidence.

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