Word Of Mouse

So, finally we made it to the desert. As we got off the minibus another pulled up and our new Japanese friends jumped out. It seemed we were about the only guests at Auberge Camping Sahara, which didn't altogether surprise me given the gauntlet we had had to run to get there. It would have been a bit awkward if they'd been full!
Our room was simple but clean and comfortable, the only fault I could find was with the bed's construction (nails seem to dominate here - the idea of jointed wood or screws has not caught on).
Inspite of our beautiful surroundings I found it hard to feel relaxed that first evening. I kept half expecting one of the Rissani hustlers to appear. Apart from feeling a little vulnerable out at the end of the road in the desert (not a good place to make enemies, if indeed there is a good place)I was once again thinking about the complexities of it all and the injustices that exist in the world. It's hard to know what to conclude. Apart from anything else, I felt infuriated to have been branded a muslim-hater. The thing is none of the things they said added up anyway so I shouldn´t have let myself feel so hurt - one minute all the English were kind and gentle except for me and teh next all us bloody Enlish were the same and we should F off to Iraq. If it was my fault about the Japanese couple I can´t tell, I think they just wanted somebody to blame. In talking with the Japanese woman latyer it turned out she was an experienced tour guide, so i don´t think anybody was about to persuade her of anything she didn´t want. She seemed surprised taht I´d apologised to the hustlers!

Also, the desert also was not quite as peaceful as we imagined. We set off on a short stroll into the dunes and had not even left the hostal before we had offers of fossils to buy and a rather nasty selection of poorly made ticky-tacky things. The fossils we postponed til the next day - more of that to follow - and the felt camels and cloth scarves we managed to resist inspite of the charming smiles of the young girls acting as their vendors. If only the scarves had been embroidered with the same skill as good as of the sales pitch stories we were becoming increasingly accustomed to...

Dinner was unremarkable (more vegetable cous cous for Malc), but served in a calm setting and with the prospects of desert adventures ahead, for once it was not at the top of our agenda. After eating we were presented with our choice of camel excursions. They ranged from quick sunrise experiences to three day treks 'sleeping with nomads'. Still felling a bit ropey (Malc had the dodgy gut thing by now) and also wanting to suss things out a bit, we decided to take a a short sunrise trip the next morning and to take it from there. We were both keen to spend a night out under the stars however.

For once we almost beat the Muezzin out of bed, and by 5.30 we were kitted up and reaady to watch the sun rise. Frankly it was a dissapointment. Yousef, the fossil seller of the previous day turned up with his Tuareg nomad costume on over the top of his jeans and fleece, we were bundled on to two strung-together-camels like sacks of potatoes and led by Yousef on foot. This was a far cry from the camel riding we did with Brahim and I felt like a fat, rich tourist-whale passively 'enjoying' my authentic Berber desert experience. Indeed the mini outcrop of dunes in Morocco feels at times a little like Sahara-Disney.

We got to our dune and left the camels while we scrambled up the last bit. Here we had a perfect view of the dunes ahead and the blue and black carrier bags littering the sand at our feet. We could hear the shrieks of the other tourists on a neighbouring dune. Malc did a litter pick and by the time he returned we had been joined by about 15 other tourists, most of whom had to be heaved up the dune. We looked at each other and sighed. To top it all the sunrise was hidden by clouds. Grrr. But despair not, for there are tales of desert joy to follow.

First a little on the fossil buying. We no sooner dismounted than Tuareg camel leader became fossil seller. We thought we were prepared but, well ahem let's just say Malc and I are not suited to a culture of tall stories and hard bargaining. We managed to cut him down precisely nothing in a deft linguistis dance including such skillful manouvres as the 'I really like that one' price doubler. Still, 'what the hell' we thought we did really like what we ended up with and It was only £15 afterall!

Needless to say we decided not to do any more camel rides. Apart from anything else, how many more tagines could we eat? and how many more fossil shops might spring out of the desert? However, the best of our desert experinces were yet to come.

We had a fabulous walk that day (before the sandstorm kicked in big style)and climbed the biggest dune in site. It gave us a fabulous view, probably over to Algeria, and we finaly had some of the solitude we were after, until a big noisy 4x4 came and practiced its high-speed, sand-assisted handbrake turns. It was a truly stunning landscape and quite unlike anything else we had ever seen.

We rose early the next moring to make our own dawn expedition on foot. The storm had settled and the clear sky was a perfect inky blue-black. The stars were magically bright and the slim crescent moon hung romantically over a small cluster of pine trees. As we went into the depths of the dunes one by one the stars faded. We reached a perfect viewpoint and settled down to await the sun. Today, there were no camel riders - we think the previous night's storm had put them off. Apart from two walkers on the high peak the only sign of other life was the trail of fox leading off into the distance, oh and the odd beetle track.

The sunrise was magnificant. The dunes changed from dark brown to red to gold and the rising light defined the smooth curves and sharp edges carved in sand beautifully. We stood in wonder. This was what we had come for! To top it our pics came out better than we could have imagined. Watch this space for a preview.