A great time was had by all.  Josephine passed her first experience of the nomadic way of life with flying colours, Abdul succeeded in photographing the Milky Way, and I rejoiced in sharing these six long sunny Saharan days with two of my very dearest friends. 

The new lightweight tent for four, handmade for me by Adel, withstood the wind, and Lasfar, the sweet camel from Zaafrane that Ali had hired to carry it, did so with graceful charm.  Ali is thinking of buying him, and I really hope he makes this investment  – 2019 has proved to be a popular year for lengthy camel safaris – heartwarming news for the Bedouin, and long may this trend continue.  Labiar, who used to carry the tent, has been upgraded to carrying tourists – Ali assigned him to Abdul, and the tried and trusted Lahajah to Josephine. Both riders got on splendidly with their mounts but sometimes preferred to walk.  I am ashamed to say, I left it to Zeydoun to transport me across the sandy terrain, but as always, he took it in his long, loping stride, never putting a foot wrong.

A week or so earlier, Zeydoun had officiated at the wedding of Adel’s handsome cousin, Hedi.  A tradition of the Bedouin marriage ceremony is that a camel carries the bride to the house of her groom, and so it was for Hedi’s wife to be. How romantic, and how appropriate that my dearly beloved  Zeydoun be given this honour, and the recent nuptials  in Sabria explained the intricate henna patterns adorning the hands and feet of the Bedouin ladies. 

On our second evening, we had our one and only crisis.  Josephine is never one for idly standing around, neither is Abdul, always offering a helping hand to our guides whenever needed.  But having exceeded three score years and ten, I’m afraid I’ve done a deal with myself not to feel too guilty when taking it easy.  So there was Abdul gathering wood for the camp fire, Josephine assisting Ali in erecting the tent, and Diana not doing very much at all.  It only took one second for this pastoral scene to change dramatically:  One of the wooden struts supporting the side of the tent had ricocheted into Josephine’s right eye, causing her to cry out with pain, followed by panic.  A  Bedouin reaction is immediate.  Ali examined the eye.  The white was scarily bloodshot, but the pupil untouched, her vision unimpaired. 

As so often happens in the remotest areas of the desert, someone, or something turns up from nowhere.  In this case, it was something in Ali’s luggage: two plastic ampoules of eyewash. Josephine lay down, and he gently poured the liquid into her eye.  She then took two paracetamol, and we made a unanimous decision there and then that on no account was she to frighten herself by looking in a mirror. It was up to us to decide if a drastic decision had to be taken, at worst flying her prematurely back to the UK, or at best, getting her to the Hotel Sahara Douz where she could see a doctor, rest up and Geoffrey would look after her.  Happily, and under the practical but calming influence of the Bedouin, who followed up with a second administration of eyewash the very next morning, Josephine completed the circuit, her eye injury improving all the while.  We thanked our lucky stars above for the absence of sandstorms! 

There was only one day when we saw heavy rain in the near distance and decided to stay put rather than risk riding into it.  We were content to watch the weather move around us.  By the late afternoon, the sun had come out, and we went for a gentle ride sans saddlebags.  The skies were magnificent, crisscrossed by clouds of all colours, shapes and sizes.  Fortunately, our first night had been crystal clear, as was the last one.  Abdul was satisfied with his star-studded photographs. A crescent moon was the exquisitely beautiful subject of his final evening in the Sahara. 

The camp fire entertainment ranged from haunting melodies on the flute to the throbbing beat of a drum, the skin having first been warmed over the flames.  Josephine’s contribution was the romantic playlist from her iPhone, which fascinated Ali, leaving him in a trance!  Adel danced solo, and I shook Ali out of his dreamlike state by asking him to dance with me, which he did!  What lovely fun……  And of course, no desert voyage would be complete without Adel’s impressive display of exercises, standing on his head being the grand finale!

We loved the simplicity of Adel’s cooking and Ali’s bread.  Josephine, a great cook herself, gave our desert chefs five stars.   But she was something of a star herself – travelling like a Bedouin taking the minimum of clothing, sleeping in what she had been wearing all day, no makeup and no fuss about not being able to shower etc.  I’ve often teased her that she resembles the portrait of the Mona Lisa, which in my opinion she never fails to live up to, even outside her preferred comfort zone of the city…………

It was Abdul’s fourth desert trek under the guidance of Adel – his passion for the silence of the Sahara living up to the oft-repeated Bedouin phrase “Le Sahara est la pharmacie pour la tête”.  He thrives on it, and the vast open spaces provide an eye-watering challenge for his photography skills!

Returning to the Hôtel Sahara Douz was a shock to the system, but a welcome one.  Josephine swam in the warm waters of the Hôtel Spa, before spending hours of luxurious pampering in the Hammam.  Abdul relished hot showers and being able to look through his photos in the sand free environment of his room.   I wallowed in a hot bath before joining Geoffrey in the garden or the bar for copious glasses of chilled white wine and endless bowls of peanuts, elegantly served by the barmen we love so much:  Ihmed, Abdullah, and Habib!  Habib turns out to be an athletic dancer, partnering Josephine and myself to the drum beats and trumpetings of the local whirling, swirling band, whose mesmerising music had us dancing way into the night. 

So many happy memories to take home with us……………………