Uyuni is probably one of the most famous places in Bolivia. Uyuni itself may look like a dusty little desert town today, but it was once one of the most important railway hubs in all of South America. In the early 1900s, British engineers built a massive rail network here to transport minerals from Bolivia’s highlands to the Pacific coast. When the mining boom collapsed, the trains were simply abandoned.
Nowdays when people hear "Uyuni" they think of those perfect mirror‑photos where sky and earth melt into one endless horizon. We did too. Unfortunately, we arrived in the middle of the rainy season - the one time of year when the Salar de Uyuni decides to turn into a giant lake and ruin everyone’s Social Media plans.
Normally, the salt flats are a hard, white desert you can ride across for hours. But during the rains, the Salar becomes a massive sheet of water with deep puddles hiding soft, muddy salt. The tracks are completely impassable and guides shaking their heads at anyone foolish enough to try riding a motorcycle onto it. Riding across it? No chance. Even the 4x4 tour jeeps were getting stuck.
And the famous mirror photos? Forget it. The only reflection we would’ve captured was our own disappointment floating in brownish saltwater.
Since the Salar was off‑limits, we visited the next best thing: the Train Cemetery just outside Uyuni.
It’s a surreal place - a graveyard of rusted steam locomotives, broken wagons, twisted metal, graffiti and the ghosts of Bolivia’s old mining railway
The whole scene looks like a post‑apocalyptic movie set. Perfect for some fun photos, and perfect for hiding from the next raincloud.
The weather kept getting worse, but we thought: “Let’s ride to Tahua. How bad can it be? Maybe the weather is better at this place, we can visit vulcano Tunupa and with some luck we might be able to shoot the famous Uyuni-Mirror photos there?“
Foolishly, we decided to take a shortcut and ended up in Bolivia’s Premium Mud‑Slide Experience. The dirt roads turned into slippery brown clay, deep ruts and unpredictable mud traps. Every meter felt like riding on soap. One wrong move and the bike would slide sideways like a drunken penguin. Obviously both of us took some refreshing mud dips.
Then came a river. A roaring, muddy torrent. And above it… a “bridge”. Narrow made of questionable building material (at least for motorcycles) and absolutely no railing. We crossed it anyway. Slowly. Heart pounding...but hey - riding the whole way back was not an option and these are the adventures we’re looking for anyway, aren’t they?
When we finally reached Tahua, the sky opened up again. Not rain. A full‑on vertical ocean.
We found a small field behind a stone wall and pitched our tent. Three hours later the ground was a swamp, the tent was floating, our sleeping bags were soaked and we were lying in a puddle, laughing at the absurdity of it all.
And then, as if Bolivia felt guilty, the next morning was perfect. The rain stopped. The clouds lifted. And the Tunupa volcano stood before us- huge, colorful, majestic.
Near Tahua the Salar was also flooded, but the ground was a bit harder and, because there were no tourists at all, the water was completely clear. The perfect natural mirror.
So finally we got them. The iconic mirror photos, the floating motorcycles, the endless horizon and the the sky that merges with the lake – a sight truly out of this world!
It was messy, exhausting, hilarious and unforgettable. Exactly the kind of adventure you only get when you travel by motorcycle.
