Twenty four hours out in the open air under the ever-changing skies is my idea of bliss, even though it can mean adjusting to four seasons in one day. It happened to be the time of the new moon, Hilal in Arabic, and in one month from now, this same heavenly crescent will herald the start of Ramadan.

We travelled at a leisurely pace, allowing the dromedaries to graze as we went.  It was important for them to benefit from the nourishing wild herbs before bracing themselves for the ups and downs of the precariously steep dunes, fetlock deep in sinking sand.  The frequent stretches of vegetation we encountered along the way were home to giant green caterpillars, appropriately camouflaged on their made to match homes of bright green stalks.

 

Zeydoun has a smart new saddle, woven by Adel’s sister-in-law. Thanks to my Pilates classes which I began last January, I was able to do it justice by getting on and off my camel without requiring any assistance from Ali whose knee used to be the best possible substitute for a mounting block.

On the fourth morning of our five-day voyage, we awoke to blue sky and warm sunshine.  We set off after breakfast in perfect conditions – not too hot, the odd fluffy cloud, and the gentlest of breezes.  After a hearty lunch of thick, spicy vegetable soup cooked over the campfire, accompanied by Ali’s legendary freshly baked unleavened bread – ideal for dunking – the weather did an about turn.
Within minutes, we were exposed to the full force of a fierce sandstorm.  Adel was anxious to reach a sheltered spot for our overnight camp, so there was nothing for it but to battle through la tempête, heads bowed and tightly scarved against the relentless cascades of stinging sand.   After a two and a half hour ride of non-existent visibility, I was mightily relieved to see my tent being pitched in a shallow valley of established broom bushes.  There was only one drawback – the network of roots supporting these shrubs, so I was told, are a haven for scorpions, but thankfully, because it was a chilly night, these land-loving crustaceans were not tempted to venture beyond the comfort of their own burrows.

A rather more enlightening morsel of information I gleaned from Adel and Ali was that 2018 has been the best season in years for the desert truffle, known as Terfes, which are highly valued for their culinary and medicinal qualities. Adel’s Bedouin mother seeks them out in the Sahara, usually in March, but I gather these delicacies are much in demand from chefs across the globe.  Tataouine is one of the main regions for this lucrative trade.

Our final day was as calm and still as the previous one had been stormy and turbulent.  We enjoyed our elevenses under the tamarisk trees, within sight of Sabria, where a warm welcome from Adel’s and Ali’s families awaited our safe return.  It was lovely to have an hour or so to play with the children, whose latest game is to take it in turns to blow a feather high into the air, and see who’s the cleverest at stopping its downward spiral……..endless fun to be had by all, and a fairytale ending to my April camel voyage.

When I got back to the Hotel Sahara Douz, Geoffrey too had a happy tale to tell. Belgacem, our entrepreneurial driver and very dear friend, had introduced him to Khalifa, a former maths teacher originally from Gabes. Khalifa now runs his own newly constructed school in nearby El Goula, a flourishing town built on high ground, the Tunisian equivalent of Hampstead! Here, around one hundred boys and girls, aged between eight and fourteen, attend English and French Language evening classes.  Khalifa asked Geoffrey if he would agree to come and speak to his students in English.  To receive such a unique and unexpected request was an honour.  The two evenings Geoffrey spent engaging these enthusiastic young people in English conversation was a rewarding experience and one that he will unhesitatingly repeat during our next visit to Douz.