The Chiguana Desert, Rock Trees and Lagoons

On the second morning of our trip from Uyuni, we awoke with sore backs and cold toes after having spent the night in a salt hotel. The place was built entirely from the stuff: salt tables, salt floors, salt walls. Instead of sleeping, I spent the night licking my bed. But we loaded our tired bodies dutifully into the jeep and, within no time, had reached the desert of Chiguana. Shrubs, sand and the occasional llama were our only companions as we cut southwest through one of Bolivia's most underdeveloped corners.

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The Train Cemetery of Uyuni

Desolate, dusty Uyuni in the sparsely populated southwest of Bolivia feels like a town abandoned to the march of history. Founded in 1889, it was once a bustling railway hub connecting Bolivia's mines with the world beyond the Pacific. But the mines eventually dried up, and the trains stopped running. Rather than decommissioning and selling them as scrap, depressed Uyuni left the useless locomotives to rot in a fascinating "train cemetery" just a few kilometers outside the city.

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The Road to Uyuni – Pictures

At 6am, we were out on Sucre's streets, desperately searching for a taxi to take us to the station for our bus to Uyuni. But there were no taxis. There wasn't even any traffic. The streets were dead calm, except for our cursing and complaining. A morning dash to the far-away bus station wasn't the best way to start this trip.

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Goodbye to Chuquisaca

After a month in Bolivia's constitutional capital, the time had come to move on. Sucre was an incredible temporary home, but Bolivia is huge and diverse, and we didn't want to miss out on the treasures of its other regions. So, after a detour through the Salar de Uyuni and Bolivia's barren southwest, we relocated to La Paz for a few weeks.

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The Faces of Bolivia

We've lived in quite a few countries, but I don't think we've ever encountered such compelling faces as in Bolivia. The people here, while often shy about getting their picture taken, are almost always courteous and happy to talk. Here's another random batch of images we've taken in Sucre during last few weeks.

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K’alaphurka – A Potosino Specialty

Henry, the guide for our 3-day hike around Sucre, was originally from Potosí. We told him that we had plans to visit his hometown, and he enthusiastically rattled off a number of recommendations. Churches, neighborhoods, shops... "But no matter what", he said, suddenly turning serious, "make sure to get a bowl of k'alaphurka". We were speaking Spanish, and I'd had a few beers. I could have sworn he said Cara Puta. "Really, Henry? You want me to go into a restaurant and order a steaming hot bowl of "Whore's Face"?!"

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Potosí’s Convent of Santa Teresa

Disillusioned by the horrors of Cerro Rico's mines and the callous greed of their families, a number of Potosí's young women renounced the world by entering into the Convent of Santa Teresa. They would never again step outside its walls. We were pressed for time, and told our guide that we wanted just a quick tour. But the convent's history was simply too fascinating, and we ended up spending about two hours inside. Santa Teresa was established in 1685, providing a home to a sisterhood of Carmelite nuns. It's still active today, but its numbers have dwindled significantly, and most of the immense complex is now a museum.

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Drinking with the Devil in Potosí’s Mines

By far the most popular tourist activity in Potosí is a visit to the mines of Cerro Rico. They're still active, so a tour entails walking past soot-covered miners hard at work in conditions that could be straight out of the 18th century. We weren't especially excited about taking a tour, since gawking at people working in such a dangerous profession is more than a bit unseemly. Between accidents and the inevitable lung diseases, it's still rare for a Potosí miner to reach the age of 50. But we couldn't skip out on the city's most famous experience.

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