Salar de Uyuni, the world's largest salt flat is incredibly beautful. It's a surrealistic landscape, it's like being on another planet.

Despite its beauty, in Uyuni it's extremely cold so I'd like to leave as quickly as possible for a warmer place. My next stop will be Tupiza, a pleasant town in southern Bolivia. Together with Christin, from Germany, I decide to take the 8 pm bus. Only a six-hour drive separates us from an appealing warmth compared to the deep-freezer Uyuni is like. After an incredibly running dinner and race towards the bus stop we make it just in time. 'Is this our bus? ' Christin notably questions, as it doesn't seem that luxury (which is an understatement). But yeah, this is it and although almost empty it suprisingly departs on time. This is against all South- American standards! Leaving Uyuni the most bumpy six-hours of my live begin. Just imagine yourself riding a supermarket trolley on a cabblestone road for six hours. No light. Freezing cold. That's about the feeling we experience for six hours. Something you should experience at least once in your lifetime. Frozen but safely we arrive in Tupiza.

In Tupiza I relax a bit and on the national Bolivian independence day with a lot of fiesta I embark on a roundtrip to see the beautiful surroundings. Jeep driving, horseback riding and mountainbiking are all included. The huge variety in colours and vegetation in the landscape are breathtaking.

I meet two Danish people and they explain me the possibility of catching a taxi that will pick us up and bring us all the way to the border with Argentina. It sounds attractive for the price given and for the fact they'll leave earlier than scheduled bus services so together with them and with Christin we're four people and make a good deal with the guy. He promises to pick us up at our hostel at 6:00 a.m. so we'll be able to catch a connecting at the border around 8:00 a.m. We pay him 50% upfront.

The next morning we're all packed and ready, waiting in front of our hostel, but after 6:15 we're starting to get a little nervous. No driver, no car. Because I lost the little note with his phone number I decide to walk to the office, two blocks ahead, to inquire but no-one is here to answer my questions and I walk back to the hostel where the other three are still waiting more or less having accepted the situationand considering other options. On that moment a car stops and here he is: our driver. Visibly exhausted he starts to upload our bags. Because there's another girl in the car, our bags have to go on top of the car, but there are no ropes to fixthem. While arguing with him I start asking him questions and while asking these it becomes clear he must have drunk a lot last night, like everybody, being the cause for his delay. I suggest to go to his house to pick up some ropes so we can secure the bags and finally leave.

In about five minutes we arrive at his house and collect the required ropes. Togeth er with him we climb onto the roof of the car to fix our baggage. However, one of the ropes breaks so the whole process takes forever. When we finally leave Tupiza it's already past 7:00 and I start complaining that we're never going to catch our next bus, but the driver assures me that everything is going to be all right. Smoothly we drive onto the road under construction: most parts are well paved. Normally this would have pleased me but in this case I'm noticing our fellow driver has a hard time not falling asleep so I'd have preferred a bumpy road instead. The whole situation now really begins to stress me out and all I want is to arrive safely at the border and not crash because of this stupid and irresponsible guy. In order to keep him awake I just start talking to him and make him drink half of my bottle of coke which I luckily brought with me. This gives him a new boost as his eyes seem wide-opened now. After 45 minutes he stops again to spray some fresh water and we move on quickly. After five minutes, however, we stop again as the tire has gotten flat. I question the whole situation and suggest to replace the tire, but our fellow driver tells me doesnt have a spare tire and I now realize why: he has already been driving on his spare tire for the whole journey! He assures me that we're close to our destination and that we'll just continue carefully so he gets back in the car and keeps on driving. But after a few minutes we hear a loud bang from the exploding tire and we're stuck in the middle of nowhere. Can you call someone?' I suggest to him. 'No sir, there's no signal'. So stuck in the middle of nowhere I inquire about the possibility of walking. He says it would be 3 or 4 kilometers but considering his state of mind we don't really believe this.

All we can do is wait for another car with a spare tire. Luckily we don't have to wait very long before a taxi driver stops. He doesn't have a spare tire either but I ask him if he could take us to the border which he's willing to do for 15 bolivianos per person. Our reliable driver comes in between and suggests we pay him the remaining 50% of his fee and he will negotiate a price, but I immediately wave him off saying we're not going to pay him anything and order my friends to grab their bags and move them into our rescue vehicle. We drive for about twenty minutes and considering the velocity it must be at least another 25 kilometers before we arrive at the border crossing which is fairly easy and brings me into Argentina!

Argentina brings me a European feeling as it is so much more developed than all countries I traveled through before. Buses are luxury and pricy. For the first time in eight months I'm driving on a real highway with several lanes, guardrails, exits and so on. I'm leaving behind Bolivia, South America's highest but poorest. Bolivia that has so many beautiful things to see and to offer but at the same time lacks significant development. Bolivia the landlocked state that is governed by a corrupt regime. Bolivia: it was not always easy, but it was a pleasure.

Crossing the bridge with my backpack on my shoulders I'm looking back, back upon my trip and back into time. Not just one hour as the clock tells me, but decades separate Bolivia from Argentina. Ahead I see a different world. I'm touched by these two worlds so close together in place yet so far apart in time. Crossing the bridge I gratefully say goodbye and look back once again on this marvel of nature. Chao Bolivia!