The Sahara Desert: My Giant Potty
Trip Start
Nov 01, 2006
1
8
15
Trip End
Nov 21, 2006
Sahara Desert,
Morocco
Thursday, November 9, 2006
We spent a lazy morning around our auberge waiting for our camel trek into the desert to spend a night out in the sandy expanse. Lured by a free lunch, we went to the local craftsman co-op-i.e. carpet store for tourists. The Berber carpets were beautiful and inexpensive, but we simply enjoyed our lunch of medfouna, a humungous Moroccan pita-like sandwich made with chunks of beef, onions and hardboiled egg, and watched as our companions bought it up
Front of Our Auberge
.We have had many opportunities to ride camels, but this Sahara trek had the most stunning desert sights yet. The rolling golden waves of sand spread out in front of us, unbroken and endless, until they disappeared over the horizon. Trekking in the middle of this enormous space gave us an unshakable feeling of solitude and isolation-like being explorers on another planet.
After a half day's camel trek, we arrived at our very basic campsite. Our guides prepared a good dinner of tagine which we ate in the dying desert light. The campsite was simple: traditional tents pitched into the sand, and no facilities, water, electricity or fire at all. In contrast to the relatively well appointed camp we stayed at in Wadi Rum in Jordan, this one had no frills. To relieve yourself, you went out into the desert with a roll of toilet paper and a lighter with which to burn the used TP. The key was to go far enough so that you got some privacy, but not too far that you got disoriented and lost. Hamid told us that his worst experience as a guide was when one of his group members went too far to heed nature's call and got lost. Apparently, once you lose your bearing in the dunes you are hooped. Hamid guides spent a sleepless night searching in vain for his wayward charge who, in the morning, miraculously turned up many kilometres away at a different camp
Backyard of Our Auberge
. Days in the desert are hot, nights are cold with whipping winds that tear across the dunes. Mel needed her warmth so she slept under one of the tents. Paul bundled himself up in his sleeping bag and slept outside under the stars and awoke to the braying of our camels and a frozen face. In the early morning, we climbed the steep sides of a nearby sand dune to watch the sunrise over the Sahara. The sun rose and the sky caught fire in varying shades of orange and red-a fire that poured out over the endless sandy vastness.
For Paul, the lurching motion of a camel plus his poor riding ability always equals painful chafing, so for the return trek he walked beside Mel's camel buddy. We arrived back at our auberge dusty but happy.
