Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia (3-day tour)

On 09.01., our 3-day tour by jeep through the desert began. We were six people plus our guide. Of course, he was not as cool as our guide in Peru during the Salkantay Trek. Neither were the other people. But that didn't matter. First, we stopped at the train cemetery. Then at a salt factory. Afterwards, we continued into the real salt desert, where everything was white. Wow. That was really amazing. We passed by water puddles with holes from which water bubbled out of the ground. We took the famous pictures with the dinosaur. Then we passed by huge cacti and llamas and soon reached Basecamp Nr. 1, a salt hotel. Mega beautiful. I felt totally exhausted and my eyes were burning. The salt desert was also super bright, so sunscreen and sunglasses were important again because of the altitude. After eating, I immediately went to bed. I could already feel that something was not right. The next morning, my fever had risen immensely. Moni informed the guide and he said we would drive to the hospital. The 'hospital' was more like a house with one room, and the 'doctor' had a fever thermometer as the only examination tool. Since the doctor didn't speak English, our guide helped with the translation. I then received a hefty antibiotic injection. The longest injection of my life. The remaining contents of the syringe were disposed of in an empty Fanta bottle. I also received a bunch of medications, and then we continued. I lay on the back seat of the jeep the whole day and slept while we drove from one highlight to the next and the others got out and took photos. Sometimes I woke up and briefly got out. We passed by a smoking volcano, beautiful lagoons with flamingos, and once when I woke up, there was smoke coming out of the ground everywhere around us. In the evening at the next accommodation, I immediately went to bed. We were now in the middle of the desert and hours away from any hospitals. Luckily, I could feel that the fever had subsided. But I also felt that it was getting harder and harder for me to breathe. Okay, this was probably the worst place to have trouble breathing, so I tried to breathe as slowly and deeply as possible, but I noticed that it wasn't working properly. Eventually, I fell asleep. The next morning, my fever was gone, but I still couldn't breathe properly. We set off towards Chile, with two more stops at lagoons. Before reaching Chile, we had to change to a small bus. We had to fill out some forms before the border, wait for an hour, and then walk across the border with all our luggage. Our luggage was opened and checked. Stamps were put in our passports and we got back on the bus. It didn't take long until we reached San Pedro de Chile, and there we first looked for the bus station because we had to continue to Calama in Chile as we had booked a flight to Lima in the evening. We found the bus station and bought tickets in advance. Since I still couldn't breathe properly, we looked for a hospital. Of course, you can't compare them to the hospitals in Europe. They consisted of a small waiting room and two treatment rooms with beds separated by curtains. Shortly before it was my turn, an emergency arrived, a small crying boy with a cloth in his mouth. He was probably being stitched on his tongue. I heard him cry his eyes out for about half an hour. Another patient from Argentina who spoke a little English translated what was wrong with me and the background story to the nurse. Then I was allowed to sit on one of the beds, my blood pressure, fever, and pulse were measured, and I was listened to. I also had to hand over my passport. Then I was asked a few questions, and I also showed the slip of paper with the antibiotics. I was allowed to lie down and received oxygen through a hose in my nose. I lay like that for about an hour. Then the doctor came, looked at the slip of paper with my antibiotic mix again, and said surprised 'what a bomb'. He said I shouldn't take it anymore, it was good for the stomach but not good for the lungs. He wrote me more medication for emergencies, and then I received the bill of 25,000 Chilean...hmm...currency...since we had just arrived, we didn't have any money in Chilean currency yet and didn't know the exchange rate either. So we withdrew the money and I paid my hospital bill. 25,000 Chilean pesos correspond to about 32.50 euros, as I later found out. So a relatively cheap hospital stay. I still couldn't eat, after every bite I tried, I had to quickly go to the baños (toilets). In the evening, we took the bus to Calama, where we arrived after two and a half hours. I still didn't feel good, tried to eat a few cookies, and visited the airport toilet about 11 times before the departure. The number is not an exaggeration, it is the sum. I was also afraid that the fever would return now that I had stopped taking the antibiotics. But I was lucky. We successfully landed in Lima with a transfer in Santiago de Chile. In Santiago, I could eat something proper again for the first time, without having to run directly to the next toilet, and in Lima, I could breathe properly again. I had finally made it. Phew...what exciting days.