I spent three out of the next four nights on overnight buses, getting down to my final stop in Bolivia, Salar De Uyuni, or the Salt Flats. The three-day tours weren’t running because the roads to the other lagoons you usually go see after the salt flats were closed due to bad weather. I didn’t have a problem because I was only planning on doing the one-day anyways, but the fact that it wasn’t even possible helped appease my omnipresent FOMO. (Fear Of Missing Out, for the less hip)

My bus arrived just in time to make my tour at 10:30 and I hopped into my jeep with a couple tall cans and a huevo y tomate sandwich, excited to meet my fellow tour-mates. I had been lucky thus far in having mostly English speakers in my groups, but my luck had run out here in Uyuni when I discovered my group consisted of two Japanese couples and two older German guys, who I’m still not sure were father and son or partners. None of them spoke very much English at all and neither did our driver/guide, so I had to play translator between the driver and the other six in the jeep, which consisted of more hand signals and nods than words.

As soon as we drove onto the terrain that eventually became the salt flats, it became apparent that any language barrier was insignificant. I could have been with aliens, Eskimos, zombies or kangaroos and it would not have made a difference because the chilling feeling you get when you see something this breathtaking and the ensuing open-mouthed, wide-eyed expression your face takes is the same in every language. The beauty of Salar De Uyuni cannot be understated. It is truly out of this world. I don’t know what it is like year round, but when I was there in late February during the peak of the rainy season, there was a thin layer of water that rested atop of the seemingly endless plains of salt that served as a mirror for the blue sky and dramatic clouds whose puffy white matched perfectly with the ground that day.

The result was a jaw-dropping spectacle in which the earth and the sky seemed to blend into one blue and white heavenly image that left me dumbfounded and unsure if I was still on the third planet from the sun. The most common question I am asked by people is some version of “what has your favorite place been?” While warranted, this is still a frustrating and impossible question to answer because each day and week reveals new stunning scenery, an amazing group of friends, a hilarious evening or an awesome excursion, each unique in its own. However, I can answer one version of that question with conviction. Some will ask, “What is the most beautiful thing you’ve seen? I will tell them Salar De Uyuni.

(Many people have inquired about this picture, let me explain. I simply did a big push-up, launched myself as high as I could off the ground and my Japanese friend was skillful enough to get a decent shot. The thing hanging below me is the scarf I was wearing that has been recurring in a lot of my pictures.)

After a few hours taking pictures and admiring one of our world’s true marvels, it was time to head back to catch my overnight bus to the Argentinean border. Our driver, however, was nowhere to be found and we were now the last group out with no clue where he was. An hour later he came stumbling out of the little “salt hotel” some people opt to stay at, blatantly hammered. Every one of my guides in Bolivia had gotten drunk at some point, so this was nothing out of the ordinary, except that this time the guide was also the driver. Seeing as though we didn’t really have a choice besides freezing to death we all hopped in and buckled our belts, hoping he could pull it together for the thirty minutes we had ahead of us. Sure enough, he thought it would be fun to go off-roading and one of the German guys actually had to shake him awake at one point. I eventually made it to my bus and after four amazing weeks capped off with Salar and that jeep ride, I felt good and ready to leave Bolivia.

Sleepy time