Let me click my red heels together

I'm squeezed in the back of an old, rickety Land Cruiser, navigating through the countryside of Bolivia via gravel roads. There's a 20-something year old traveler from Southern California crammed in the back next to me. With every bump in the road, he seems to inch closer to me and I'm on the brink of vomiting from the putrid smell of the stale beers he drank last night. Surely he couldn't have brushed his teeth today. 

The monstrous ruts in the road created an unpleasant space in the back of the truck. The inexperienced 18 year-old Bolivian driver angered me with his risky driving. He obviously did not value his life or the life of his passengers. I repeatedly asked him to slow down, but to no avail. He swerved around llamas and drove at break-neck speeds, passing vehicles without a clear view of oncoming traffic. 

Get out of the way!

I wondered how we would ever make it back alive. With each bone-jarring bump, dirt seeped in through the cracks of the worn vehicle that had seen better days. I covered my mouth and nose with my scarf, keeping out the dust and bad breath spewing out of my neighbor that's nearly sitting on my lap by now. A headache develops and gets progressively excruciating. I have 8 more hours of this hell to endure. 
God, how did I get myself into this incredibly uncomfortable situation? 
Can I click the heels of my sparkly red shoes and go home now?
I was at the tail end of a 3 day/2 night typical gringo trail through Bolivia. 
Everything was going great, until now. 

Let's rewind.
The group I had been traveling with was dropped off at the Chilean border and I had to hitch a ride with another sub par tour company back to Uyuni. 
I had the pleasure of traveling with 3 other lovely people. A cute couple from Chile and a girl from The Netherlands, whom I met on a bus in Peru that was headed in the same direction as I was. 

Our guide/driver was Spanish speaking, so once again, my Spanish skills improved drastically in only a few short days. It's amazing how much you learn when you're forced to speak a language. 

Our guide

Our accommodations were not the Ritz-Carlton by any means. There were no showers available and the nights got bone chillingly cold. But, nobody minded if they stunk and there were always plenty of blankets to stack on top of us. 
Let me just say, if you are a prissy girl, I would not advise you to take this tour. Or even go to Bolivia. Period. 

This is what a typical tour is like:
Starting in Uyuni, a guide shuttles you to the salt flats, the "Salar de Uyuni", the biggest salt flats in the world, coming in at a whopping 4,000 square miles!
Whoa. 
The pictures looked so amazing! The brilliantly white ground and the reflection it made were enough to lure in any curious traveler. 
Then for the rest of the tour. 

Our Land Cruiser

The mystical lakes of reds, greens, and blues mesmerized me and earned Bolivia a space on my travel list. 
The views did not let me down. 
Bolivia is terribly undeveloped and frustrating to travel through, but it's topography makes up for it all.

The favorite part of the tour for me was frolicking in the salt flats. 
It's like another planet. An inch of water covered the salty surface of the flats. The horizon is nowhere to be found. The view leaves you silent, your brain is too busy soaking in the sights to speak. 
I ran like a gazelle through the white plains. With each jump, the salty water splashed my black leggings. 

I tasted the white crystals encrusted on my pants. Yep, it tasted like pure salt, as expected. 
There is something very special about this place. It was one of my favorite places in South America. 

After a few shenanigans and photo ops, we relaxed with a nice lunch prepared by our driver. 

We were at the mercy of the driver for our meals, there was no other food to buy in the desert. Bolivians are true blue carnivores and do not understand what vegetarians need to eat in order to meet an adequate daily protein intake. You will not consume enough protein on this tour if you are vegetarian. 
Just sayin'.
After we were done eating, it was off to explore unknown lands. 
We made frequent stops and were allowed ample time to marvel at the beauty that Bolivia beholds. 

Many of the stops included bright pink flamingos. I gazed at the beautiful creatures as they stepped so elegantly through the marshy wetlands with their spectacular pink feathered body perched on top of stick-thin legs. 

There were hundreds of flamingos at some of the stops. I floated quietly on the grass so I wouldn't disturb them. Listening to them talk, they made a very peculiar sound I've never heard before.  It's a cute little noise, like a cross between a gurgle and a chirp. They seemed entirely at peace wading in the water, picking at the brine and algae with their beaks. Their exotic S-shaped necks speckled the entire lake. Some flamingos were more vibrantly pink than others. I learn that it depends on their diet. The carotenoids. 
Another mystery solved. 

You wouldn't believe the color of the water at some of these lakes. 

It sure was breath-taking out there in the desert. Too bad Bolivia is so poor and lacks knowledge when it comes to tourism. 
I'm glad I saw it, but I have to say, I will probably never return.
The living conditions for a backpacker are horrendous, even with the most expensive tour company. 

At the end of the 8 hour highway-to-hell back to Uyuni, I peeled myself out of the back of the Land Cruiser. My clothes and backpack were covered with dust. I felt violated. It's extremely frustrating being completely out of control of your personal comfort. I had no choice but to grin and bear the uncomfortable ride back. After such a nice 2 days, it was a shame that the last day had to be so horrific.

I survived and it had made me stronger. 
It was definitely a turning point of my trip. I decided I had had enough of this third world business. I had big aspirations to travel to Chile, Easter Island, Uruguay and Brazil. But after Bolivia, I decided it was best to go straight to Antarctica, then home. 
6 months is a long time to be on the road. Sometimes you just need to go home and regroup, because it gets to a point where it's just not enjoyable anymore.
So I clicked my red heels and found myself in Argentina......