Veintitres.

Take away from Uyuni 3 main streets and 2 bitty squares for whity - and it becomes clear that we have been dealing with one more dog's piece of shit in Great South Wastelands. Luckily, ten minutes after arriving I've met Mike and Miguel there (two junkies from La Paz). Mike is a really indie-musician, likes Sonic Youth, always takes with him his acoustic guitar (and always play it), but how many guys you know, that hanging around the streets and trying to buy any and all high stuff in poor and far away countries at nineteen? He should have been finishing his education, but he preferred to have a wild fun. He's a real, that's ok. Because of visa formalities I had to visit Chile, so all the next day I was at bitchy and close-bodied bus. The start was at 5 a.m., fucking night desert freeze and bus without heating system tried to kill me, but suddenly was saved by a Chilean girl´s coverlet, that she offered. When I came back to Uyuni, nothing changed. Dust, poverty, political propaganda. We're tried to buy some hash that night, but pusher not to know enough to come in out of the rain. Time to stop it. A yah, senora Accelina - first well-tasted coffee since I started my trip. Next point was a Moon - famous salt lake near the town.