South American Rail Journeys - Pt 3 of 3
Almost as soon as we were on our first Bolivian bus, we boarded our second. We needed to drive further south to Ororu to catch a train that I really wanted to try. I knew Steph was going to get tired of south american buses (watch this space). We knew that the luxury liners would be replaced with rickety death boxes that skirted the edge of mountain roads, with your luggage strapped to the top. In Argentina we had somehow managed to substitute long haul road journeys with cargo ships and flights via the edge of the world. This was just one of many justifications I had for insisting we try this Bolivian rail route - one of only two left on the network. Another reason was the price - $14 for the premier seats which included heaters, a snack and a bottle of coca cola brought to you by a bow-tied waitor.
OK yes we are backpackers and need to get over our fussiness in whilst in south america. But that doesn't mean we should stupidly follow the crowd when other options exist. Those who didn't make the effort to go by rail from Ororu were on the overnight bus from La Paz. The road was rocky, the journey long and we even heard the windows iced over. Thank god I read the man in Seat 61's advice for getting the train.
Within minutes we were gliding along tracks that skirted through a huge lake with flamingos on either side. We watched a mirror image sunset through canyon country to the famous salt flats.There was a group of very rambunctious Isreali penioners who were making such a commotion it was impossible to watch any of the films on board. "I can't believe it. Always out of their seats, making such a racket. How inconsiderate!" backpacker Steph snipped. How the tables had really turned It turned... and we had to laugh at how some old people can be more like teenagers when on holiday together.
No matter - we had seen Mama Mia so many times that steph knew all the words and dance routines. Instead we went to the old dining car just like in the films with tables, complete with lamps, curtains, tablecloths and bow-tied waitors of course! I couldn't help but think that we could still order a steak dinner while the rumbling gringo bus was probably just feeling the effects of motion sickness and freezing temperatures.
Soon the train slowed into Uyuni station where Steph and I were happy to board at the hotel Julia right across the street. Uyuni's few avenues were dotted with old industry and train relics from when this town was Bolivia's industrial powerhouse. It was the gateway to the outside world since the train, as it does today, carries on through the night to the Chilean border.
The next day we visited the Railroad graveyard before embarking on our Salt Flat adventure. Steph chuckled as my eyes lit up. I couldn't help it. These old coal trains had just been left to creak and crumble here in canyon country. Now it was just a curiosity for tourists, or grown-up train lover's playground!
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