The talking point of my four day April voyage into the Sahara was the palatial lightweight tent, handmade by Adel’s mother, Cessia, and hired out to me at 20TND a day. Her waterproof (I hope!) work of art was the complete opposite of the last straw that broke the camel’s back. Labiar, the tent carrying camel, was in seventh heaven – the featherweight structure loaded onto each side of his fluffy hump put a spring in his step. Never again, we hope, will he be asked to bear the traditional one woven out of camel and goat hair, which although beautiful to look at, is horrendously heavy for all to handle, man and beast alike, doubling in weight after a night in the rain.
I wondered when I first saw the tent spreadeagled on the sand outside Adel’s house, whether, once erected, it would ever stand up to the wind. I need not have worried. A prevailing easterly blew day and night, whipping up the dunes. There was no respite from the stinging sand, except, and yes you’ve guessed it, at night time in the comfort of my magnificent billowing abode, secured firmly to the ground with cords and guy ropes. I slept soundly, waking at dawn to see Zeydoun tethered opposite where I lay, and Ali in the distance gathering wood for the fire. The thing I love most about travelling with the Bedouin is being out in the open twenty-four hours a day, relishing nights spent in a gloriously airy tent.
After daily conversations over the campfire, I established that Ali’s dear old tent has just about come to the end of its days, and much to my relief, he was as keen as I was on the replacement. So I had three options: to rent Cessia’s each time I venture into the desert; to purchase it from her outright; or, to commission Adel and Najet to make a new one for me, to exactly the same design. I opted for the latter, which will come into its own this October when my dear friends Abdul and Josephine will be joining me, Inshallah!
Both me and my beloved camel Zeydoun are just beginning to feel our age, so as and when we decide to take life a bit easier, we will seek out a delightful spot in the dunes, abundant with succulent herbs, nutritious grasses, and a well nearby. There, with the help of Adel and Ali who guide us and feed us, we will pitch the tent, and there we will stay, for as long as we choose!
I can hardly believe that I will soon have dual residency: a flat in Pimlico, and a portable home in the Tunisian Sahara. What more could an eccentric bohemian lady of a certain age possibly wish for?
