You have to be lucky

I am currently in Pucon, a place recommended to me by Violetta, one of the 4 companions in the current story.

The place is located on the route south and was perfectly situated for me until 2 days ago. The area is Chile's lake district and is also called the Chilean Switzerland. Here it almost looks like the Alps. There are vibrant blue lakes, forests, and lots of greenery, but instead of mountains, there are snow-covered volcanoes, and the ibises don't fit in with the cows, which also strongly remind me of home. Likewise, the gray-black lava sand of the lake is not what I'm used to, and in the harbor, tourists are offered rides on replica galleons while the Dutch are accused of piracy. Yesterday I had a ride through this beautiful landscape, otherwise I sip coffee and am entertained by the countless tourists bustling around.

Today is the end of procrastination, I think to myself, and then everything becomes more urgent than putting the omitted text into words.

For example, the young man whose upper half of his face consists only of forehead. His eyes, nose, mouth, and chin all come together at the bottom. When he stands up to order, it becomes clear that Mother Nature chose these proportions again and made him a giant in the seat. Long upper body, legs that are far too short.
Or the mention of this person. Or the formulation of the description. Everything seems to require my attention, and I willingly give it.

After a toast with avocado and scrambled eggs, including a very elaborate ordering process:

But now!
Almost back to the beginning. San Pedro de Atacama. The Frenchman had enthusiastically recommended "Salar de Uyuni!" and a week later I booked it. 2 nights, three days, with the option to continue to La Paz. The Moon Valley was my crowning conclusion, and I was already fed up with San Pedro anyway. Literally. There was no reason to come back here.

In the minibus we went to the border. There would be a maximum of 6 of us. There were five of us including me. A young couple from Amsterdam, two friends, one from Madrid, the other living in Santiago de Chile.
This time I was the first to be picked up and sat in the front row. A circumstance that probably earned me the front row, namely the passenger seat, again when changing buses. It was the best thing that could happen to me, and I would gladly put my lips to this chance and kiss it.

After breakfast at the folding table and an hour standing at the border crossing at cold and windy altitude, the vehicles were changed, and we met Alfi, our guide and driver for the next few days. A handsome Bolivian with a wide smile, calm movements, and skilled hand gestures directed the move and us.
Backpacks were hoisted onto the roof, and whenever one of us wanted to do something premature, his calm and deep voice admonished us to refrain from doing so. I liked him immediately.

Among ourselves, we tourists agreed to alternate seats, and I was chosen to sit in the front first, and off we went.
A short distance after the border, the road sloped down. After 15-20 minutes, drowsiness set in from the second row. Eyes closed, heads leaned, bodies tilted.
Although I was not a communication material because I don't speak Spanish, I served as the DJ, and so it happened that my playlist played in the car, and at least Violetta, who had taken a seat in the back, momentarily came alive again.

My eyes scanned the landscape, and I quickly realized that I'm currently living my dream.
We are the only vehicle for miles around. I have a 180-degree view. The sun is shining, and in the distance, small fluffy clouds adorn the otherwise blue sky.
My favorite music is playing in the car, and I am enjoying a 4x4 ride that satisfies my need for freedom and my adventurous heart.
I immerse myself in an abundance that I did not expect and that surprises me from all sides. A landscape that is unbelievably beautiful and impresses with its simplicity and colors.
Volcanoes that scattered their peaks in all directions ages ago now polished and colorful, line the road. Blue boulders, as big and round as sheep, are scattered in the golden sand of the desert. There is a mountain ahead, whose colors fan out from ochre to rusty red, shining in the sun and becoming bigger with every passing minute.
Alfi chooses his path far from the other vehicles, and it sometimes seems as if the terrain is completely untraveled and only the dust that billows up behind us reveals our presence for a while. The view ahead remains flawless, and I can hardly breathe because I am so happy right now.
I wake up the others and offer to swap seats with them, feeling slightly guilty that I was given this view. But no one else seems to be so delighted, and so I stay here for a while longer to sit and marvel.

It seems that this spot is only so desirable for me in the following days as well. It is likely because the sun shines directly into it, making it quite hot. Or because 3 of the passengers are experiencing symptoms of altitude sickness. Or maybe I just got lucky and it was my turn to have such a beautiful time. And I did. We slept in a salt hotel, made stops at sulfur pits that were steaming and bubbling in a gray-blue color, shared what we brought, laughed, marveled, and it felt as if I had been here for several weeks, experiencing so many beautiful things in the company of cozy people.

On the last day, we drove on the Uyuni Salt Flat. We set off early in the morning and joined the stream of onlookers. We first climbed an island covered in tall and thick cacti, dutifully took our photos, and had breakfast in the open air.
This was followed by a race for the best spot on the salt flat because there, under clear instructions from Alfi, we had collective fun during a photo shoot, playing with perspectives and using our leg muscles. The video can be found here. 

https://youtu.be/yHabVpwaTL0, the race here https://youtu.be/6kkWyATxjGg 

With a heavy heart, I said goodbye to the group. What luck when everything just fits!

They encountered snow on their way back, and I had new excursion ideas waiting for me in La Paz.
That will be for another time.

Tomorrow I will continue a little further south, then I will unfortunately have to turn around and return to Santiago because sometimes you also have bad luck.
Originally, I wanted to take the ferry through the Chilean fjords to Patagonia. In that case, I would have really traveled from top to bottom of Chile. Unfortunately, this trip was canceled for safety reasons, which apparently had to do with bad weather. Christian had described the trip to me so beautifully (yes, his eyes were sparkling), and it was therefore one of the few fixed points of this trip. But it wasn't meant to be. So I'm flying to Puerto Natales, and I have a little more time for that. And a little voice inside me whispers, "It will be good for something!" and in about 3 weeks I will know what it was good for. And you will too ;D

See you soon and warm regards

Petra