Greetings from the land of Butch Cassidy and Sundace Kid!! Well, from place of the last big job of this infamous Desperado’s career. But once again I'm rushing too much. Let me start with our last day in Uyuni and our journey south.

Because the night train was promising to be an uncanny experience we slept almost until midday but even that didn't help Jan's digestive tract to deal with yesterday's cup of local coffee with milk (it was actually milk with a bit of coffee, they call it Cafe con Leche). Kicked out of a hotel and weakened by lactose of uncertain quality we spent most of the afternoon laying on benches of local square and took turns with Rossio in stuffing Mort with medication and water and taking short walks. By late afternoon he got slightly better so we went to last unexplored bit of the town. After an hour of uneventful walking Mort gave up so I decided to wander half empty streets on my own for a while and Rossio took Mort back to wait for me in some pub on the main square. After a couple of minutes I bumped into a bunch of kids kicking the well known round nonsense and I couldn't not embarrass myself in front of the locals :)

This time it was a bit harder because just one member of team reached my waist (and it was a girl). You know sometimes you need to raise your confidence and then it falls on the small and weak... :) 'Course I'm kidding, you wouldn't believe how much fun it is to let them get the ball of you or to make fun of yourself some other way. Uyuni is a bit lower so breathing wasn't as difficult as last time but the surface of our choreball pitch (dusty road) and the temperature best described by interjection "brrrr" didn't allow me to use my full physical potential yet again so after half an hour I traded the ball for my camera. Luckily my new friends were not the kind of parent's trained pinchers of gringo's pockets and my newly hard-earned trust (embarrassing myself) helped me to freely shoot around me like a madman. Necessity was a well tried routine of shoot-and-show leading to a huge entertainment of crowds. The camera remained in my hands most of the time but at one moment it got into pawns of the oldest boy of our group (on his own request) and I have to appreciate Pedro's first little steps towards his great photographer's future. Even with my tiny skills in Spanish lingo we managed to have fun until dusk. With the thinning light I realized I'm a centre of attention of an older audience and after some examination I found out that it's in a good sense. I choose one smiling mum with a minishop, quickly found a word "caramelos", gave her a tenner and pointed on the bunch of kids behind me. Before I packed my things they were already back to say goodbye with their mouth stuffed with giant lollypops. I shook their sticky paws and went to meet up with Rossio and Mort.

After dinner in our favorite inn (Rossio with Mort managed to get a gas heater from somewhere) our train was already waiting for us at the station and after boarding we were amazed to find out that Bolivian middle class (salon) abound with more space between seats than twice more expensive first class (ejechutivo). TV had the same DVD on and the only difference was therefore lack of old bun with an egg (no salt, blah) and 187ml of Coke. I thought I'll get some sleep but this role was happily taken by weakened Mort. After one hour of shuffling in my seat I gave up, lifted the blinds and my jaw dropped from the view behind my window. I took out my iPod, found some melancholic tunes and for next four hours I was staring on dramatically changing scenery and the stars above. It's been just few days after full moon and shades of soft light were illuminating canyons, plains, lonely buildings or incredibly vast graveyards. Unfortunately there wasn't enough light to capture this amazing sight and by describing it I would waste the whole blog. So in two words "heavenly magnificent"

We were lucky with finding our housing and most of the day was spent by sleeping and getting our "necessities" as well as making plans for next few days... Mort was in full strength again so we decided to book a trip in the saddles of Argentinean stallions... Our day started well and by noon we saddled our new mates. Rossio got a mare called Julia, Mort jumped on a grey stallion Rosalyn and I won young and restless Bronco. None of us had any real experience with horse riding but that didn't stop our guide from leaving us to find out how to ride a horse on our own. Somehow we found the throttle and break (thanks to hours of watching western movies), got some confidence and before we knew it we went from trot to full gallop leaving Rossio and our guide far behind. Adrenalinelooooveeeee!!! We slowed down so they could catch up with us and started to whistle the best western tunes. At that moment it seemed like all we needed to do was meet Vinnetou and greet him the old Indian way (isawyosistainashowa), but Fate had something else ready for us.

fter several hours on the baking sun Rossio started to feel sick so we sat down in a shade and started pouring water into her hoping she'll get better soon. unfortunately her state went the other way and after half hour she threw up few times and eventually stopped talking. We saw that this isn't going to be better and begun to look for a way to get her to hospital ASAP. With a bit of luck we found a taxi and soon its driver as well and that was a time to split up. Mort took Rossio to hospital and I shared the two empty horses with our guide making our way back to Tupiza through a river bed. I have to say I had plenty of respect for Bronco at the beginning. My shy commands were utterly ignored by this 4 year old rough and his behavior looked like he regarded me as a newly grown spot on his back and nothing more. That changed once it was just me and Ferdinando (our guide). With a vision of us arriving back to town sometime next week he decided it's a good idea to teach me some tricks and with my camera as a great teaching aid he was able to teach me a bit of techniques (he camera hanging around my neck cased sharp pain to my back, chin or other sensitive places whenever I was out of sync with Bronco).

The toughest moment came when Bronco got into deep mud and couldn't carry on with me on his back. I jumped down and next 50 meters waded knee deep in dark black not of roses smelling matter dragging my sunken stallion behind me. But even so after 30 km of all-type terrain we managed to finish last 45 minutes bit in 15 so as you can see, if I had my Winchester gun and a lasso you won't be able to tell me from a Marlboro Man.

With soggy shoes I got back to our night hotel and listened to Mort's part of afternoon. As they got to a local A&E Mort was told that it is sunstroke combined with anemia. he got prescription for glucose and B-complex so he grabbed a cab to the centre (where was the only opened pharmacy) and rushed back so they could inject it into poor Rossio. After half hour rest they loaded her in another cab and Mort took her on our hotel. And that's where our Snowwhite sleeps until now. Keep fingers crossed please so she'll get better soon and we can carry on with our adventures

P.S.: Sorry for such a novel, I'll try to keep it down a bit next time  :) ...

- translated by Mort