Veintiquatro.

Road to Colchani was absolutely crappy, hillocks and sand, sand again, and hillocks in the sand. I've seen a colony of llamas there, well. Think it's time to say smth about this type of animals - in boliviano altiplano they're everywhere, herds and herds like a herd of sheep, but more fearful. These dingy creatures have only one mindbending little thing - black eyes. Black in full. About salt lake - it's fine. I drunk some beer, pitched a tent, fixed luggage rack of my bicycle by some road rocks at the third time, and went to sleep. At night I froze my ass. Sad but true. On the way back to Uyuni I've seen two hotels for richy whity, it made by salt only. There is a little square for flags from around the world, thought about leave the flag of NBP-party there (Aleksandr Gelyevich Dugin surely dreamed about a place smth like that, when invented his ideas about national-bolsheviks and Hyperborea), but I didn't do it. Every flag must be captured or burned, there are no any ways.