We joined the masses at Uyuni for what the Bolivians considered their welcome to the international stage. It was their first time in hosting the Dakar Rally since its permanent move to South America. It's the pinnacle motorbike, quadbike and rally car off-road endurance race in the world which was raced from Paris to Dakar in Senegal through the Sahara for three decades but due to security threats to competitors in Mauritania, the rally is now hosted by South America. Typically it takes place in the deserts and open terrains through Argentina and Chile and this year, parts of Southern Bolivia.
Uyuni, the town famed for being nearby the largest salt flats in the world, Salar de Uyuni, put on a brilliant show for this highly anticipated event. It was hard to understand the hype as the sport is not very popular and more suited to television rather than as spectator viewing but Bolivians of all ages were drawn here to embrace and celebrate a festive few days.
The salt flats in January
Jenn arrived by bus and I took the newly paved highway from Potosi through the desert valleys and shallow canyons on a fantastic day of riding to arrive a couple days before the bikes passed through. I was waved down on the way by a young family who were stopped by the highway and had ran out of petrol, begging me to return to the last village to fetch them some more. With all the little stores stopped for lunch I backtracked quite a way before having six litres filled into plastic bottles which I carried back. We then push started the little car and was offered two litres of yoghurt for my trouble. On arrival, the setting up of the music stages, tents, marquees and food stalls promised a lot of excitement. We somehow managed to find a hotel for the first night but were then forced to sleep in my cosy one man tent when the hotel prices quadrupled in prices due to unprecedented demand.
I had been looking forward to experiencing the salt flats for a long time, it seemed to be a highlight of many travelers I'd met recently. As the rainy season just hit, the perimeter of the flat was more like a lake and unfortunately prevented me from taking Sixto in and getting lost on the white oasis.
We had to settle for the shores and spent an hour chatting to locals in town for the Rally who were keen to take bad family shots with the three of us.
Although there was a lack of travelers here we partied the nights away in the marquees set up by government departments and vineyards offering local wines. The fantastic folk music and endless offerings of wine from the locals gave me a new fondness for the Bolivians and their welcome.
We managed to get ourselves interviewed on some state television and dance the night away
The following day with dirty hangovers we hear on the grapevine of a good place to catch the riders coming through so we followed a long convoy of four-wheel drives along the dusty tracks through the desert to finally reach the Dakar track. While waiting for the race to pass us we spend time with others here on motorbikes, a group of Irish guys and this couple from the U.S.
The race finally comes through
Trying to get back to Uyuni but stuck in the mud, some locals come to the rescue to get me out
Video - To avoid more mud or taking the same route back to town and possibly getting lost, the four of us decided on riding part of the track as the riders seemed to have passed. The Bolivians loved it, cheering us on and waving their flags. A cop eventually stops me and gets angry, forcing us to get off the track.
The following morning the race continues out of Uyuni towards Chile. As we're camped on a basketball court by the track we're woken at sunrise to the vehicles passing and take in the last of the rally.
Jenn hanging out at the nearby train cemetery
