We drove deeper and deeper into the arid dry landscape, leaving the towering gorges, snowcapped Atlas peaks, rolling hillsides and Berber villages behind. We spotted a few camels on the horizon and saw fewer and fewer settlements. Then, up ahead, towering like majestic mountain tops, we saw the shadowy deep burnt orange sand dunes of Erg Chebbi.
We were on the edges of the Saharan desert.
We met our camel driver at the edge of the sands, where the modern world stops and the ancient modes of transport work best (eh em, okay so the sandboards are pretty good too!). We had linked up with an American couple, Bert and Evelyn, along the many lunch and photo stops and having soon caught on to the fact that our paths were leading in the same direction, we started up a dialogue and grouped up for our overnight desert adventure.
Our four camels were driven by a man named Ali. He did not own the beasts as we were told they cost some €1,500-€2,000 each to buy. The two men in our party were to sit on the first and last camel, with us ladies on the middle two. Bert opted for the last so Jon was shotgun up front. After Bert climbed onto his camel, it jerkily raised onto its knees then her back legs straightened and she finally swung her weight upright, swinging Bert around in the process. After Evelyn had made it up safely it was my turn so I patted the thick wooly hair at my camels shoulder and flung my leg over her back. Clinging onto the saddle handle (for ‘saddle’ read ‘blankets secured with rope’), I was thrown forward and then back as she jerked to her feet/hooves. And we were up! No problem! Jon soon mounted and we were off. In reality it felt much like sitting on a horse, although I wouldn’t go so far as to describe it as riding! We traced the outlines and curves of the sand dunes and soon the road and few buildings behind us were nothing but a distant memory.
It is said that when a wealthy local family didn’t offer hospitality to a poor woman and her son, God was offended and buried them under the mounds of sand called Erg Chebbi. The shape-shifting dunes reach heights of 160m (the highest in Morocco) and glowed in stunning contrasting of shades of orange, pink and red in the afternoon sunlight.
It was a completely surreal experience swaying back and forth with the rocking walk of the camel as its hooves sunk into the soft sand. Gazing around me at the picture-perfect sand dunes – more reminiscent of a fictional story, filmset or dreamworld than real life – I could hardly believe I was there. All was quiet and serene in the desert – bar the strangest sounds coming from Jon’s lead camel in front of me; a combination of stomach grumblings, low growling, and a noise like bubbles being blown in milkshake through a straw.
We rode our camels for an hour and a half as the sun set and before long we had arrived at the desert camp. The camp consisted of just a frame with many, many carpets thrown over it to form a circle of small rooms, each containing between two and six beds. I say beds, but soon discovered they were more akin to stone slabs – youch!
We swapped the camels for a snowboard which had seen better days and climbed up a nearby dune. After recovering from the exertion of conquering the sandy peak (phew) I recalled my childhood experiences of being the default ‘safety tester’ and sent Jon down first. Having allowed him to prove the best method of using the board, I then secured it to my own feet and shuffled forward to the edge of the dune and I was away! Long after Jon had got bored and given up the exhausting sand dune climbs, I was still whizzing up and down! Brilliant fun! All too soon dinner was ready and we joined the Americans for tagine and mint tea.
Before retiring to bed, Jon and I climbed the nearest dune one last time and lay in the soft red sand gazing up at the bright moon and twinkling array of stars above us. What a night sky! It was simply stunning. Rarely have I seen so many stars in the night. Of course there was only one way down the dune so I sandboarded through the dark back to my tented room and finally fell asleep under the heavy blankets.
The next morning came quickly and at 5.30am we were again mounting the jerking camels. We rode through the darkness to meet the sunrise and watch the colours of the new day play over the twisting, rolling curving dunes of sand.
It was a very long drive back to Marrakesh on our penultimate day and finally we arrived back at our Riad, after the very best of adventures.
Life Well Travelled 