The sorry state of Mt. Apo

Imagine yourself climbing the Philippines' highest peak - Mt. Apo. The grandfather of all Philippine mountains. Just a few tens of meters shy of 3000m. Wouldn't it be great?

I need not imagine anymore. I know it's great because I have done it a few days ago. And I would like to write about the epic adventure I had with my friends. But I couldn't. Something else has to be said.

A few years ago, I told my ex that we should climb Mt. Apo. He snorted. He asked why I would like to climb a mountain that's mostly turned into a banana plantation. And so we didn't. We broke up eventually but my desire to conquer the mountain remained and totally forgot about what he said.

We used the Sta. Cruz Trail for our climb. It's not the easiest. But it's what our organizer assigned to us and it is the shortest. On our way to the jump-off point, we stopped at a place called Kapatagan to buy breakfast and packed lunch. At first I thought the place was a small town. There was a market, a public transportation terminal and a small hospital. There was even a Petron gas station! But apparently, it is just a barangay.

Later on I learned from our guide that just a few years ago, Kapatagan was different. There weren't much people before. The market was a rice field. And what brought those changes are the private businesses; those banana plantations! Yep, bananas dominate the place.

Roy, our guide, thinks it is much better to have those big businesses rather than the kaingin method employed by local farmers in the area. And although I aggree with him, I still don't understand why the government would allow this. (Or maybe I do, because our government simply sucks.) Why declare a place a national park and then use it for farming? It's supposed to be protected and not taken advantage of. For sure, the Philippine eagle wouldn't thrive in bananas. They aren't even trees!

As much as I want to bash the government for this current sorry state of Mt. Apo, we the climbers and the local residents are also to be blamed.

Along the farm trail (which is so called because it was farms everywhere) we passed by to sitios. I have been to many far-flung settlements and it was always the same. There were garbage everywhere. I kind of expected it to be a little cleaner because it is inside the park. And, you know, it is part of the trail. They get visitors regularly and so it is supposed to be presentable. But it isn't. I guess where there's people, there will always be trash nearby.

And since there are people going in and out of the forest, I should have expected how the trail would look like. I thought climbers/trekkers/hikers (whatever) were a different bunch. But we are not. What has happened to the leave-no-trace principle?

At first it was just bits and pieces of plastic wrappers which we could pretend to be accidentally dropped by someone focusing on tackling the very steep trail. But when we reached the base camp, it was evident that people voluntarily leave their trash in the area. I wonder if the kapre that was said to be living near the camp was showing himself to scare disrespectful people off the mountain. I remember Pulag and how strict it is therr because it.is a sacred place for locals who believe that their gods live in that mountain. But do we have to be told about those gods to do things (or not do things) which we are supposed to know even at a young age?

I brought up the issue of cleanliness to our guides. Roy said I should see the mountain during the holy week climb. And I should be a little thankful that we didn't camp near the peak. Because it is much, much worse. He added that clean-up climbs are done yearly. But do we really need those? I mean, you don't (literally) clean up after other people's mess. People don't learn that way. You tell them. How hard is it to carry one's trash down? Roy assured me that their (our) group brings down everything they brought up the mountain.

While at the peak, I picked up a candy wrapper only because it was distracting me from savoring the joy of finally reaching the summit. I would have also done the same to the bottle of Emperador but it was impossible to put it in my pocket. (I seriously wish that whoever left it there bites his/her/their tongue(s) whenever someone gets to read this.) I did enjoy the climb but I was somehow feeling bad that I was contributing to the demise of Mt. Apo.

I'm not saying that we should stop climbing the mountain. I still definitely want to come back to Mt. Apo and witness the sunset and sunrise from the peak. And I don't want to deny this beautiful experience from others. All I'm saying is that let's do it responsibly and respectfully.

the secrets of angkor

Nope. It's not about any anthropological or historical secret that still baffles Angkor scholars. It isn't about nooks unknown to most tourists. It's not even a secret. These are just simple stuff that are good-to-know before and good-to-share after visiting the Angkor Archaeological Park.

Dress code There isn't a strict dress code. It's not as if one would not be allowed to enter the park if he or she is not wearing the proper clothes. But almost everyone we saw were wearing pants and sleeved shirts.

What are prohibited? Self-explanatory.

There were only a few parts of the temples where one must be properly dressed. That is, at least the shoulders and knees must be covered. Of all the temples we visited, only Baphoun and Angkor Wat requires some modesty. Good thing we decided to wear pants before leaving the hostel because I swear I would have really hated my self if I were not able to climb the stepped pyramid of Baphuon Temple. (I saw one girl wearing a skirt who was not allowed to go up.) Even though the climb to the top was exhausting due to the very steep steps, the view was one of the best that I've seen in the park.

The thing about wearing the right clothing isn't exactly about being obedient. It's about respect. After all, the Khmer dress modestly. I didn't see anyone wearing revealing clothing while we were in Cambodia. And besides, the temples are sacred sites of the Hindu. You wouldn't want to offend their gods, would you?

One of my favorite views.

Mode of transportation The tuktuk rules. It's like there were a thousand of these staple vehicles in a single day going around the park. You're lucky if you get a good driver. If not, well, you're in the Angkor Wat. It's a good day.

We visited the park twice. The first time, we got a really good jolly driver who acted as some sort of guide. He spoke good English and gave us some background about the temples. He even included free drinks in his service. The tuktuk rent for 8 hours was 15 dollars. We wanted to be there from sunrise to sunset. It was for more than 13 hours and he charged us 23 dollars. I think we got the better end of the deal.

At the back of the tuktuk

The next day, our driver didn't talk to us. He only asked if we had already paid the rent. (Which we did beforehand at the hostel.)

When to visit the park I was really thankful that we decided to do our Vietnam-Cambodia trip in December. When I was still planning, I realized that it was the only time when my friends would be free for several days as it was the holidays. And so when we got there, we were surprised that the weather wasn't what we expect from a tropical country. Early mornings and evenings were cool. During the day, it was always pleasantly warm. With all the temples that we climbed (six to be exact), we would have been really exhausted if it was the high summer then.

We were glad that we had our jackets and pants on when we left for the park (See dress code) as it was really cold at 5am riding a speedy tuktuk.

Itinerary What itinerary? Leave it to the tuktuk driver.

Well, we were really lucky with our driver as he was the one who decided where to take us. I didn't plan ahead because that's how I am I think if I am traveling with friends. We watched the sunrise at Angkor Wat. We covered the whole of Angkor Thom. We then proceeded to Preah Khan and Pre Roup before having our really late lunch. We then visited Ta Prohm, the 'Tomb Raider Temple' but it was under reconstruction and we weren't able to see the most famous tree. We were supposed to see the sunset at Phnom Bakheng but we ran out of time because we haven't gone inside Angkor Wat yet. We were busy munching breakfast when our driver thought we were going around the temple.

We were really satisfied.

Eating Food inside the park was relatively expensive. But at the kiosks near the temples, the price isn't fixed. We didn't want to pay 1.5 dollars for a can of coke so the vendor said she would give it to us for a dollar. We didn't ask. During breakfast, the lady didn't want to let go of us and sold us the breakfast set for 2.5 dollars each instead of 3.5. Again, we didn't ask.

Chasing the sun We were up really early that day. We left our hostel at around 5am and when we got to the park, there were already hundreds of visitors waiting to see the sun slowly rising behind Angkor Wat. The best place to take photos were already occupied so we had to make do with the space left. But a few shots later, I realized that I would never be able to capture that magical moment even if I was at the perfect spot or I had the most expensive lens. So I hid my camera and just watched nature.

Worth the wait.

We also wanted to witness sunset at Phnom Bakheng since it is where guidebooks tell you to go. But since we haven't explored Angkor Wat yet, we chose the latter.

So we went for another visit to the park. This time, we were there early. We didn't go up the moment we got there since there was a rule that only 300 persons are allowed at the temple at a time. A lot of guards were regulating the entrance so we assumed that one can only be at the top for a limited amount of time to allow other people to visit. We were wrong. When the line grew to a couple of hundreds of visitors, they allowed everyone to enter. There were surely more than 300! Rules are meant to be broken then.

I didn't mind paying another 20usd for this. Priceless experience.

Bonus: Filipino-speaking Khmer There were a lot of them. Really. And the thing is, they knew we were Filipino the moment they laid their eyes upon us. One said that it was because of the way we talk. I'm not sure though. Some already knew even before we opened our mouths to speak.

We had a chance to chat with one of the ticket inspectors at the park. He said that they knew Filipino words because their English teachers are Filipinos. We're everywhere!

nasca lines

Like most people who visit Nasca, I was only there to see the lines. And basically did nothing else. Other travelers completely skip it, which is a shame, I think. And though seeing the Nasca Lines for the second time around isn't something that I dream of, it was another experience I'm glad I had.

Here's a little bit of history first. The geoglyphs in the Peruvian coastal desert were created by the Nasca culture between 200B.C. and 500A.D. They were built by removing the reddish surface gravels and sand to reveal the lighter layer below giving a strong contrast to its surrounding. The development of this geoglyph-building cultures even started with the Chavin in 500B.C and the Paracas and the geoglyphs were not only created on the desert but also on Andean foothils. But the great majority of these geoglyphs were built by the Nasca culture.

Straight lines stretching for several kilometers.

To see the Nasca geoglyphs, one has to fly over the desert. That was how they were discovered in the early 1920s anyway. Price of tour-operated flights from the Maria Reiche Airport varies between 70-100USD. I paid 85USD which included transport to and from my hotel in the city. The flights, which are only done in the morning, last just for 30 minutes but waiting for my turn took more than an hour. The airport operates like a real passenger airport collecting terminal fee, having baggage and security checks before proceeding to the departure area and passport check. The lady who checked my bag was surprised to see Ngyaw inside my bag, and found him/it cute.

The geoglyphs has two types; the representational figures and the kilometer-long straight lines. Straight lines is kind of redundant but I just have to emphasize that they are really straight. Viewing it from above will make one think how people from that time were able to build these lines, stretching to several hundred meters to kilometers and keep them straight. Some of these lines criss-cross forming geometrical patterns.

12 figures are showcased during the flight. Thanks to the arid environment, they have survived even after thousands of years. Most of these figures are animal representations including a whale, dog, parrot, spider, condor and monkey. The humming bird is the most preserved of all the figures and can easily be spotted. The heron bird is the longest, measuring 300 meters though it was already fading. The tree and the hands, which has a total of nine fingers, are the figures the can be seen from an observation deck along the highway. The astronaut with its big bulging eyes etched along the slope of a hill seem to be waving at us and commanding attention.

The astronaut.

Archeologists believe that the Nasca people made these lines and figures by using only simple tools and surveying equipment. But there is still no concrete explanation as to what these geoglyphs are for. It was first believed that they serve astronomical purposes, with the lines pointing to the spot where celestial bodies are during solstices. More recent studies argue that they are related to rituals for water and fertility. But the most bizarre is from the believers of ancient astronauts, which I would also like to believe. They say that the straight lines are landing strips of an ancient airfield used by extraterrestrials. And that the figures were made by the Nasca people for the ET's mistaken as gods.

The figures are scattered on the desert and to see all of them, our 6-seater plane had to make several turns, making the flight really uncomfortable. But more dizzying was the maneuvers it had to make so that the persons seating on both sides of the planes could see the figures. I missed the spider because I had to close my eyes for a short while to fight the nausea. The 30-minute flight seemed to take forever. And after seeing the astronaut, all I wanted was for the pilot to turn the plane back and land. The co-pilot/tour guide, noticing the look on my face, gave me some liquid to smell but it only worsened what I was feeling. (I wish I had white flower with me that time.) All four of us passengers got dizzy but thank god, no one threw up.

After landing, a thought occurred to me. I knew what the figures are for. They were for us! Some people from thousands of years ago realized that in the future, people will have the capability of flight. And being clever, they knew that weird figures that have no clear purpose will attract people's attention, even those from as far as the other side of the world. And the Nasca people will be laughing really hard from where they are seeing these travelers who, despite knowing beforehand that the flight is nausea-inducing, will still board that aircraft just to see their masterpiece.

The hummingbird.

Just a note. The two other passengers with me received some certificate from their tour operator. Guess taking that flight, and surviving it clean, was really something to brag about, eh. And thanks to them for the candy that calmed my gut.

the long walk to copacabana

Bolivia is notorious when it comes to road travels. Heavy rains in the summer usually cause damage to its roads making them difficult if not impossible to pass through. But even with the perfect weather, locals may hold strikes by barricading the road networks when they are demanding something from the government, impairing transport. At least these are what guidebooks say. After spending three weeks in the country, I had never encountered any of those inconveniences. Until the day when I had to go to Copacabana.

I was informed beforehand about the road block and that it may not be possible to travel to Copacabana. But my hardheadedness prevailed and I still went to the bus station. Sure enough, there were no trips that day. And for the next? No one was sure when the strike would be over. The only option was to cross the border in Desguadero (to Peru) and walk 8km to the town upon reaching the next border in Yunguyo/Kasani. I held out for two more days in La Paz, hoping that the issue would be resolved by that time. And besides, I was also able to find someone I could tag along with in case we still had to walk.

Holding a strike and putting road blocks is the common way for Bolivian locals for their complaints to be addressed by and to negotiate their demands from the government. That time, they were raising their protest against the increase of the ferry crossing price (from 1.5Bs to 2Bs) on the Tiquina Strait along the road from La Paz to Copacabana. Without reaching an agreement, the protesters upped their demands and wanted a bridge crossing the strait instead. A bridge had already been proposed by the government a few years ago but the ferry operators opposed it simply because they would lose their business. So I was guessing that it would just go on and on and on with one party doing another strike if the results of the discussion was not favorable to them.

Two days later, I found myself walking solo on an almost-deserted road (there was another road though not really a short-cut), cursing my heavy pack and trying to retain my sanity. As it turned out, the person I was supposed to walk with was in different bus which left later so I also didn't see him at the immigration. I would have been really disappointed that day if I didn't get to meet two other Filipina in the bus. They were supposed to go to Copacabana the day before but because of the strike, they went to La Paz instead, spent the night there and were on their way to Puno that day. The three of us were surprised. Who would have thought we will meet a fellow traveling Filipino (although both of them already migrated to Canada) in that part of the world? They were very nice and even gave me their energy bars knowing that I must take a long walk to get to my destination.

If not for the rocks, lumps of soil and tree stumps blocking the road (and the fact that we had to walk) it wouldn't seem like there was a strike (at least it was unlike here in the Philippines). The place was serene and I didn't feel any kind of tension at all. I even saw a soccer game held in one of the small villages. Travel guides advise tourists not to try to cross these road blocks. But the many groups of locals holding the strike whom I saw along the road didn't mind us. An old man even walked and chatted with me.

The atmosphere of Copacabana was dead. Although hotels and restaurants were business-as-usual, almost all other establishments were close. The boats going to Isla del Sol were also not in operation. Before the strike, it was hard to find a place to stay because all the accommodations were fully booked. But when I took a stroll one night, there were only few rooms with light in all of the hotels across the lake. It was the holy week and the town was supposed to be packed with all the tourists and pilgrims coming from nearby towns. It was supposed to be a good time for businesses to gain a large profit but it was impossible in that situation.

The act of holding the strike showed unity among its townspeople. And that they were willing to make sacrifices for the government to hear their demands. But I still wondered if everyone in town supported this strike. If I were one of the business owners, I would have wanted to take advantage of the high season and hold the strike after the holy week instead. Or as a normal townsfolk, I wouldn't be using the ferry service everyday anyway so the 0.5Bs fare increase would hardly affect me. I guess it would be hard for me to understand this kind of thing. I guess strikes and road blocks are simply part of the Bolivian culture..

i saw a penguin in islas ballestas

Islas Ballestas is a cluster of islands about 20km off the coast of Paracas in Peru. Dubbed as the Peruvian Galapagos, the concentration of wildlife in these islands is just overwhelming. It is also known as the poor-man's Galapagos because for just a small fraction of the cost to get to the latter, one will see literally thousands of birds perched on the islands or flying above, a colony of sea lions and penguins. (I paid 107 Soles for a combined trip with Paracas Reserve from Ica and for the entrance fees.)

The boat tour to the islands took approximately two hours. There were about 40 people in the boat and our guide spoke Spanish, French and English. He explained everything in those three languages and probably only two people needed the English translation. Ehem. All throughout the trip, we were wearing uncomfortable over-sized life vests. Er, better safe than sorry.

The Candelabra of the Paracas culture.

Before heading to the islands, we first saw the Candelabra which is a geoglyph etched on a slope of a hill in the desert. It was so called because of its shape although most believe that it is in the image of the weapon held by Viracocha, a South American god. Similar to the Nasca lines, the people of the Paracas culture made this by removing the surface materials and digging up to two feet deep. It's rather amazing how it was able to withstand the elements for more than two thousand years and still be clearly seen from afar.

Guano (the white stuff) covered Balleestas Islands and sea stacks.

Islas Ballestas is a sight to behold with its impressive sea stacks and sea arches that were slowly formed by the crashing of the waves on the islands' cliffs. The smell though was something one wouldn't look forward to. The whole island is practically covered with guano produced by the seabirds inhabiting it including cormorants, pelicans and boobies. People are not allowed to step on the island except for those who mine the guano that has accumulated on it. There are some structures built on the island which are used every after several years when it's time to collect the guano.

Structure for mining guano. And a sea arch.

When we got close to the island, a group of birds flew above us and I saw stuff dropping on the water. Good thing the birds didn't aim for us. The smell was bearable, but please, not that stuff on my hair. Our guide introduced the animals we saw as we went around and explained that these creatures flock the island because of the abundance of anchovies in the surrounding waters. He also added that they (the people) don't eat the anchovies, only the animals do. Hey, I kind of like anchovies...

Peruvian pelican.

Peruvian booby. Monogamous bird, accompanying the mate it chooses for the rest of its life.

I found one species of bird in the island very peculiar and interesting. The zarcillo or Inca tern has a very distinct color and plummage. Their red-orange beaks and feet made it easy for me to identify them. The zarcillo also tend to live in a very large community. And by large, I mean really large.

The black patch on the left of the island is a community of zarcillo.

A group of zarcillo.

The island is also home to Humboldt penguins, named after the water current they swim in and which breed in the coast of Peru and Chile. One of the reasons why I signed up for a tour to Islas Ballestas was to see a penguin. Unfortunately, there weren't much of them that time. In fact, I only saw one and I would have missed it if the guy behind me didn't shout 'pinguino!'

Hey penguin, where are your buddies?

But what made this trip more worth it was seeing sea lions. I was busy taking pictures of pelicans when our guide told us to pay attention to our left. And there they were, five lazy brown bodies propped on rocks, basking in the sun. They didn't seem to mind that we were very close to them and just went on with what they were doing, which was basically nothing except for scratching their necks once in a while.

At first we only saw a few of them in separate groups, some of them swimming. And then I heard this eerie sound that seemed to come from someone who was being choked to death, grasping for air, begging for help. It was an agonizing sound and it became louder and louder until I saw this large group of sea lions on a beach; adults and babies. The sound they were making, which was a call of the mothers to theirs pups, was deafening.

Sea lions.

The sight of these hundreds of creatures amazed me and moved me in a way I couldn't express. Perhaps it was because I didn't have much expectations when I stepped on the boat to the island. Or the fact that it was my first time to see these creatures and they overwhelmed my senses with their sheer number. If I wanted to, I could have seen them in an amusement park in another place, doing tricks to entertain people. But I'd rather see them there in the wild, doing what they wanted to do, freely roaming the waters and fending for themselves.

Hundreds of sea lions on a beach in the island. The adults are orange-brown while the pups are black.

rediscovering quezon: cagbalete island

I grew up in the province of Quezon and spent all my years there before I left for the university. And although I had been to many of its towns, they were limited to schools where academic competitions I joined were held. Honestly, I haven't seen any of the province's famous beaches, until now.

A close friend of mine, Jen, and I went to Cagbalete Island to celebrate our birthday in advance. (Yes, birthday. We were born on the same date.) We took the 2am bus bound for Lucena in Buendia and before 5am, we were already at the Grand Central Terminal. It was a good thing that mini-buses bound for Mauban start their trips so early. I haven't been to that terminal for a long time and I was a little surprised seeing the renovated area for east-bound public vehicles. There were also lots of carinderia so we were able to grab a very early breakfast.

The mini-bus was full of other beach weekenders so goodbye to my fantasy of a really quiet beach. Since most of us were going straight to Mauban, there were only a few stops on the road for loading and unloading passengers so the trip only took about an hour. We went around the market first from the terminal to buy some more food and water before heading to the pier by tricycle which costs 10Php per person.

We were early. Way too early. We knew beforehand that the public boat leaves at 11am but we didn't expect that getting there will be fast. There were already many people at the pier but they were in large groups and renting smaller boats to take them to island so they could leave at any time. So after paying 70Php for terminal and environmental fees, we just waited until we could get into the boat. The boat left when it was already full, and that was an hour before the scheduled departure time.

Low tide.

There were no docks in Cagbalete so we had to transfer to a smaller boat to get to the shore. The water was crystal clear but that was the part where the village is. Most of the resorts are on the other side of the island and there were many boatmen offering visitors to take them there. We opted to walk. Once we got passed the village and reached the grassy fields, the trails diverged. Although there were directions for different resorts, there wasn't any sign for Villa Cleofas. Some kids were following us and offering to take us to the resort (for a fee of course) but we decided to find it on our own. The island was small. The chance of getting lost was nil. Thankfully, we were following the right trail and we end up in Villa Cleofas. We paid 400Php for a tent on the beach and 50Php each as entrance fee to the resort. By the time we got there, it was almost noon and the water was so far away. Those who took the boats also had to walk.

Mini island that emerges during low tide a few hundred meters from the beach.

There are kayaks for rent in the resort but the water was so far so we just went for a walk to the small island. It was so hot and not long after, we were already back in our tent. I only wanted to take a short nap but to my surprise, the sun was already low when I opened my eyes. Because I wanted to take a photo of the sunset, we hurriedly walked to the southern tip of the island. It was a mistake leaving our slippers behind. Although there were parts along the way with very fine sand, the pebbly areas made my feet hurt.

Unfortunately, thick, dark clouds covered the sun. So yay, no colorful sky for us. We went for a quick dip but there were little creatures biting our legs. It was also getting dark and it was still a long walk to the resort so we just went back. That night, it rained so hard but we were both knocked out that we couldn't be bothered even though there was water getting inside our tent.

Sunset.

At 5am, we were already awake. The place felt so calm. I thought of the many beautiful mornings I miss by waking up late. It was still early but the horizon was already getting light. Everyone was amazed watching as the sun rose and how the sky changed its color. It was nature's perfect way of apologizing to me for not giving us the sunset I waited for. (Har.)

At 5:20 AM.

I prefer sunset over sunrise but this one really amazed me.

journey to the salt flats: day 3

What is something that I will miss in the Andes? The cold despite the intense sun. And the clear blue sky. And what did I learn? Sometimes things look better naked. (And by that I mean the landscape with sparse vegetation.)

Day 3: The never-ending lakes and the salt hotel

I had some trouble sleeping the night before (most likely) because the altitude made me gasping for air the whole time. And the pillow in our room, which was close to non-existent didn't help at all. (Now I know that I should bring an inflatable pillow the next time I go on a trip) But the clear-blue Andes sky seemed to promise another epic day despite the cold. It was time to head north to the salar.

We exited the Eduardo Avaroa Reserve after the guard checked that we have our passes as proof that we already paid the entrance fee. (Yes, visitors must keep that piece of paper they give after payment. Losing it means another 150Bs from your pocket just to exit the reserve.) We drove through the dusty desert to get to Arbol de Piedra in the Desierto Siloli. There were lots of rock formations scattered in the area but this one takes the highlight because of its tree-like shape.

Showcasing the power of wind, Arbol de Piedra. No climbing, please.

As I walked between the rock formations, I kept thinking of water. It wasn't until a few days that I realized we were in a desert where water is scarce; ergo, wind. The place was shaped by eolian processes! I would have had a woah!-moment if only I had realized it earlier. It is simply mind-blowing. Okay, I know it by theory. But if I could live eternally, I'll probably spend some thousands of years watching how the elements of nature slowly creates these majestic landscapes.

We hopped into our vehicle and continued driving until we reached our first lake for the day. Everyone was at awe. The tranquil (shallow) Laguna Honda created a perfect reflection of the distant snow-peaked mountains. We stayed there for some time, going around, snapping pictures and me making some shoe prints on the borax precipitates around the lake.

Laguna Honda.

There were too many lakes in southwest Bolivia. We skipped at least two smaller lakes, white- and yellow-colored, along the way and headed straight to Laguna I'm-not-so-sure-about-its-name where there were some facilities. Thank god for the toilet though it costed me 10Bs. There were lots of feeding flamingos in that lake and it was time again to take photos of them.

James's flamingo.

Here's something worth-noting. Out of the six species of flamingos in the world, three are found in the southwest Bolivia. Andean flamingo is the largest of the three with pink plumage, yellow legs and black-and-pale yellow bills. Chilean flamingo has salmon-colored plumage, grey legs with pink/red joints and white-and-black bills. James's flamingo is the smallest of the three species, with pink plumage, red legs, yellow-and-black bills and red skin near the eyes.

Of the three species, I think I only saw the James's flamingo. I scoured my photos to find the two other species but failed. They were probably on the farther side of the lake. Wish I had a camera with 50x optical zoom. It would have been perfect for spying....flamingos. Haha!

We were supposed to stop at another blue lake but everyone preferred to stay inside the vehicle. I just asked someone else to take a photo for me. Don't get me wrong. The scenery was very lovely; if only we hadn't seen so many lakes prior to that one. Or at least if we had seen it on another day. I guess there comes a point when one gets tired of beauty when it has nothing else to offer. In our case, a lake is still a lake, unless the feeding flamingos start dancing. Variety was something that we needed to spike our interest.

So it was actually a good decision to ditch Laguna Negra. It wasn't part of the itinerary anyway. Our drivers told us on the first night that Laguna Verde (which was supposed to be really beautiful) wasn't green that time. For some reasons, it had turned brown. And since we were only going there to witness its green color, we agreed on seeing the black lake instead. But on the second night, the drivers changed our agreed itinerary again and said that if we see the black lake, we will end up near the town of Uyuni and not be able to sleep in a salt hotel. Of course we preferred the other option so off we went to the salt hotel.

Inclined horizon. To break the monotony. (Photo taken by David.)

It was a very long drive to get to the salt hotel. We stopped for lunch in another strange-looking place. The rocks were just lava flows but they looked more interesting after weathering and erosion. And because of those moss-like plants that fooled me.

I was looking for a good spot to sit while eating with the group. There was only one I liked and there was this plant that looked like a moss. I told myself it was just moss. Haha! But when I looked at it closer (while sitting on it) I realized it wasn't moss at all and it wasn't just enveloping rocks. The whole mound was made of the plant and it was unbelievably as hard as a rock. It turns out to be a yareta, a flowering plant that grows only in Bolivia, Peru, Argentina and Chile at altitudes of 3200 to 4500m. (So I can't grow it in my garden?) The yareta is extremely compact so that it will keep as much heat from escaping as possible for the really cold nights in the Andes. The plant was used by local people as fuel for cooking but it is now prohibited to gather it for fear that they will soon get extinct.

Yareta. The 'dead' part (without leaves) looked like corals. Promise.

It took us more than three hours to get to the salt hotel where we would spend the night. We drove through vast empty lands occasionally passing through some small villages growing quinoa. Interestingly, the rows of quinoa in the farms were planted in such a way that as they grow, their colors resemble the Bolivian flag. (I was busy finding a place to pee I didn't take a picture but here's a link to my friend's photo.) We also crossed a railway in god-knows-where whose main purpose is for transporting minerals from Bolivia to Chile. It looked like a place where even ghosts wouldn't bother reside.

The salt hotel.

Some groups have reached the salt hotel before us and when we got there, they told us that we were the first ones to wander on that side of the salar for the year. (Some bragging rights then?) Rains during the summer season flood the salt flats making it difficult, if not impossible to cross to Uyuni from there. It was just nearing the end of summer so in way we were risking getting trapped in that place in case the waters were still too high for the 4x4 to cross. The salt hotel staff probably didn't anticipate our coming because they were still cleaning and preparing the rooms when we got there. And that may be the reason why there was some cat poop in our room. Ugh!

The hotel was almost entirely made of salt. From the floor, to the walls, the bed (nothing to worry, there's mattress), tables and chairs. They even have decors hanging from the ceiling made of salt. The shower was the only exception. And yes! there was shower. I was finally able to get a hot bath after three days albeit hurried because there was only one shower and hot water was just until 9 in the evening.

After having dinner, the drivers came to give us the bad news and the good news. Good news: there was just enough water to see the reflection of the sky and safely cross the salt flats. Bad news: it was too far to go out that night so no star-gazing (look both up and down to see the stars) for us. No problem, it wasn't part of the original itinerary anyway. And we were supposed to leave very early the next day to see the sunrise in the salar and I'd rather our drivers be well-rested after driving on what seemed to be endless roads to the hotel. I just went out for a few minutes to look at the stars. It was cloudy. It was time to sleep.