So I was in the Salar de Uyuni, well worth the trip--I can't say this enough, and I was enjoying the tour. The tour was a three-day, two-night trip starting in Uyuni. We had visited the train graveyard and were about to see the Isla del Pescado, a monumentous island outcrop, covered in huge cacti and oasising out of the middle of a dead sea of cracked salt hexagons.
We had stopped to take pictures at a DAKAR monument, for about ten minutes, and were wandering along
when we came across a group of nudists. These particular nudists seemed to be in a delirious trance triggered by wild mushrooms or synthetic MDMA and in the middle of an all-night, all-day rave party. The only thing is there was no music. Otherwise we would have seen them sooner. They were just croaking about to the sound of the, i don't know, sun? There wasn't any noise to speak of. Just all of our footsteps. They didn't really notice our approach, or care, and we got within ten feet of these anomalous specimens. There were about nineteen of them, all completely nude, with the exception of a couple bandannas and a pair of socks, and nineteen pairs of sunglasses. They were dancing, an incongruous pace, some with each other some in their own world. Then they noticed us. First, the nearest of them turned to us and began shimmying toward us. Then two others began to move in an elliptical trajectory, orbiting me. They seemed to develop a sort of communicative idea as they danced along and slowly circled us. As we backed up, they hastened, and a girl in our group almost passed out. Then they started dancing harder and began to chant. One by one our group started chanting with them, and from the aerial looks of it we had probably formed and probably appeared to be a half-clothed, half nude tribe of possibly perturbed peoples. But we swayed along. The overtakers then began to approach us further and delicately remove our clothes. Two of us conceded, laughing with the cause. Then the rest joined the ranks and we became one big party. Now, from afar we probably appeared to be initiates in an army of love. We danced with them for about ten minutes to no sound, then added some chant-song-noise to our nonsense. Our guide found us and began laughing hysterically, and taking pictures. After another five minutes we redressed, exited the mob and were off. I still have no idea what was going on.
I made all of this up. Or did I? Photographic evidence may or may not be traceable deep within my quicksand sea of instagram posts.