When thinking of the Sahara, pictures of sand dunes, sharp sun rays and heat flood the mind. Some are fully aware that heat quickly evaporates from the dunes and nights cool rapidly. My first experience in the Sahara ruined my digital camera when the powder sand restricted the moving parts. I later learnt to protect my electronic equipment by covering them with effective plastic zip-lock bags. Mounted high on a 'dromedaire' or single humped camel, me and my family ventured into the vast Sahara snapping photos every other minute. The experience was great, but I needed more, so I arranged a night in the Sahara with a few friends.
Mounting grumbling camels, shrieks of surprise and delight accompanied uneven jostling as our 4-legged transport lurched to cushioned feet from awkward kneeling positions. Bedouin guides can speak camel. My funny friends mimicked camel tongue to their surprise. Camel Tongue is a gifted ringing r-roll with a middle-high note for effect. Never try it while mounting your camel... Contact me for specifics.
90 minutes later, we arrived at our destination that looked no different than the rest of the Sahara. A dune expanse of various sizes surrounded us with imposing, audible silence. My mobile phone was silent too since modern cell-phone range did not make it 90 minutes into the Sahara yet. Once we climbed to the highest sand dune, we could see the faint silhouette of a water tower in the distance. Simon and Garfunkel's 'Sound of Silence' blew through my mind as we eyed the expanse and marvelled at how small we felt. Our camels, with tied front legs hopped away from their demanding masters in search of feigned freedom and the rare juicy bush of green.
The sun settled bright orange, yellow and red over the dunes. Cameras were out again and 100s of pictures snapped. As darkness fell a cooler very light breeze lifted the dust slightly. Racing like children down the dunes, we fell, rolled and choked with laughter that echoed into the distance. Such abandonment, such freedom, we were in a playground without fences, fear or concern of the worlds we come from.
Returning to our campsite, a genuine Bedouin tent was erected and a friendly inviting fire alive with flying embers welcomed us. Our Bedouin guides waved at me (I can speak some Arabic) to announce that dinner cooked over the open fire would be served within 10 minutes. Settling into our Bedouin tent was quick and easy. Then before us was a table spread in the desert. The soup, couscous and bread tasted like heaven. A light fruit dessert followed while our guides entertained with traditional music. I had dance, just had to dance. The soft silky Sahara sand makes dancing harder but so much more fun. My friends joined like no one was watching as our music and laughter disturbed the silence. Zillions of stars of the clear black night made us wonder how huge the universe really is and how privileged we are to enjoy the work of the Creator.
Morning came all too soon. All of us felt the camel ride of the day before and wondered if walking was possible after the return trip.
Mounting grumbling camels, shrieks of surprise and delight accompanied uneven jostling as our 4-legged transport lurched to cushioned feet from awkward kneeling positions. Bedouin guides can speak camel. My funny friends mimicked camel tongue to their surprise. Camel Tongue is a gifted ringing r-roll with a middle-high note for effect. Never try it while mounting your camel... Contact me for specifics.
90 minutes later, we arrived at our destination that looked no different than the rest of the Sahara. A dune expanse of various sizes surrounded us with imposing, audible silence. My mobile phone was silent too since modern cell-phone range did not make it 90 minutes into the Sahara yet. Once we climbed to the highest sand dune, we could see the faint silhouette of a water tower in the distance. Simon and Garfunkel's 'Sound of Silence' blew through my mind as we eyed the expanse and marvelled at how small we felt. Our camels, with tied front legs hopped away from their demanding masters in search of feigned freedom and the rare juicy bush of green.
The sun settled bright orange, yellow and red over the dunes. Cameras were out again and 100s of pictures snapped. As darkness fell a cooler very light breeze lifted the dust slightly. Racing like children down the dunes, we fell, rolled and choked with laughter that echoed into the distance. Such abandonment, such freedom, we were in a playground without fences, fear or concern of the worlds we come from.
Returning to our campsite, a genuine Bedouin tent was erected and a friendly inviting fire alive with flying embers welcomed us. Our Bedouin guides waved at me (I can speak some Arabic) to announce that dinner cooked over the open fire would be served within 10 minutes. Settling into our Bedouin tent was quick and easy. Then before us was a table spread in the desert. The soup, couscous and bread tasted like heaven. A light fruit dessert followed while our guides entertained with traditional music. I had dance, just had to dance. The soft silky Sahara sand makes dancing harder but so much more fun. My friends joined like no one was watching as our music and laughter disturbed the silence. Zillions of stars of the clear black night made us wonder how huge the universe really is and how privileged we are to enjoy the work of the Creator.
Morning came all too soon. All of us felt the camel ride of the day before and wondered if walking was possible after the return trip.