Chillin’ in the Sahara

Sunday. It’s sunrise, we stand on a small dune outside our tent facing east. Bashir brings us chairs and coffee as the sun slowly crests the horizon.

We wander down to the dining tent where breakfast is available. Spicy omelet, yogurt, assortment of Moroccan breads and jams, fruit, coffee, orange juice. All served. No buffet for this luxury outfit. 

Truly this place has 5 star service. Whatever you want, you got it. Erg Chigaga Luxury Desert Camp. Bashir and his staff are everywhere and with you the moment you think you might want something.

We sit for a spell outside our tent and listen to the camels being prepared for our short trek. Snorting away. Bashir comes to fetch us. We wait for the French family. All assembled, Grubb is led to the most skiddish and orniest camel. Right? The guide asks Grubb to talk only in a hushed voice so as not to spook the camel. Ha! After a few attempts and a little help, Grubb manages to swing his leg over (like getting on a horse onLy the camel is seated). Are you picturing this? The camels legs are released and up the camel goes with a rocking heave forward and then back. “Hold on, hold on!” The guide says. The process is repeated for each of us and we are off. 

Grubb is on the lead camel. I follow. My camel is mischievous and likes to nudge the rear end of Grubb’s ride. But i am gripping the iron bar on the saddle and can’t let go to take a picture. We mosey into the dunes. And I do mean mosey. Camels go as slow as possible when being led. And if you don’t keep hold of them, they will bolt.  I have visions of Lawrence of Arabia. Endless dunes that continually shift shape and size.

The Saharan desert is huge. 8% of the earth’s land area. Inconceivable. And quiet. An occasional bird chirps. All else is hidden. There are scorpions, snakes, sand fish, beetles, gazelles, wild camels and wild donkeys. None visible.

The camel trek is a mere hour but I am okay with that. Riding on a camel “saddle” is not the most comfortable. We take a breather and then Bashir rounds us up for a drive (about 20 minutes) to a nomad’s home. It’s spartan by any standards, but cleverly arranged. There is a solar panel, a well, a garden. We are treated to a demonstration of how to bake sand bread. A large flat round of dough is set on hot ashes and then covered with more hot ashes. In about 10 minutes, it is baked. The ashes are cleared away and scraped off, the bread sliced and each of us is offered a piece of fresh-out-of-the-ashes bread. 

Back to camp for a lovely lunch. We had thought to chill, catch up the blog but ended up talking to a family from Boston for the next few hours. The daughter works for a start-up digital dentistry company. They can use scanner wands to create impressions for various dental appliances. Using 3D modeling they fabricate the appliance from the scan, fabricate and voila…you didn’t have to sit with your mouth encased with gunk.  

And then the hammocks beckon. Swaying in a warm gentle breeze. Until, well, it’s almost time to climb the dune again for sunset. I stroll down to the bar tent to socialize. I think Grubb will describe the honeymooners so I’ll leave that one alone.

We make it up the right dune. Enjoy another sunset and glass of wine. Back down again. I decide I’ll try for a bucket shower before dinner. The hot water tap gives only lukewarm water. I find Bashir and he’s immediately back with me. He says, takes a few minutes, then grabs the bucket and 5 minutes later, a young staffer brings a bucket half full of steaming hot water. I mix in some cold. Then scoop bowlfuls over myself. It is amazingly effective and water efficient. I wash my hair and feel fresh as a daisy.

Dinner. Excellent. Bread, a Moroccan soup, tajine, couscous, spicy olives, heaps of vegetables, scrumptious desert with sliced kiwis and bananas drizzled with chocolate. Lots of conversation with the Boston family and the honeymooners. Then we are called to the fire area where there are scattered cushions to sit on. We are entertained by 4 of the staff and our driver Ali. Drumming and singing traditional Bedouin songs. The bar tent is still open (well, it’s always open), wine flows freely.

It’s a clear evening, lots of stars.Then to bed. Did I mention the silence? The tranquility? How comfortable the king sized bed is? The chill is the air? Burrowing under the comforter? Peace.