My Camel Voyages Inaugural trip took place in fine style this January – accompanied by my dear friend Vanessa Stuart. We have known each other for many years, and Vanessa was determined to celebrate the first weeks of her retirement in the contemplative wilderness of the Sahara desert. I was thrilled at the prospect, but also just a tad anxious knowing how much she relishes her home comforts.

I implored her to think Skiing, rather than Beach, holiday, explaining that it could be very cold, to pack warm clothes, waterproof and windproof top layers, plus a complete change of clothes as it was quite possible we could get soaking wet. Would she not rather travel in the spring or autumn months, when it would be warmer? But no, this was how she wanted to see in the New Year. And so it was. When we arrived in Sabria, home to our camels and desert guides, the locals were glued to their televisions, mesmerised by scenes of heavy snow falls further to the north, such freezing weather hitherto unknown in Tunisia. My heart sank. Luckily we had stocked up on snuggly wuggly mohair scarves and jumpers in Djerba en route to our destination, which proved to be a vital addition to our wardrobes. On the eve of our voyage, Vanessa was introduced to her two dromedaries: Lahajah, 9 years old, whose wool coat was the traditional colour of the camel hair garments to be found in the fashion houses – Max Mara immediately springing to mind, and Labiar, 7 years old, who had a tightly curled creamy coloured coat, and snowy white face and legs. Labiar was to carry our handwoven tent, blankets, mattresses, and jerry cans filled with water. Vanessa struck up an immediate rapport with him, as he was roped to her riding camel, which meant his beautiful head was constantly at her side throughout the six days. Both beasts belonged to the ultra competent, good humoured, and ever smiling Ali, the perfect guide for Vanessa who had never ridden camels before. I rode my tried and trusty black camel Zeydoun, with Adel, our chief guide and excellent cook, leading the way. We set off in depressing drizzle, which duly cleared into a lovely afternoon, and from then on, we were blessed with blissfully warm sunny days graced with the occasional butterfly, the sun filtering through to our bones and spirits after enduring some of the coldest nights either of us had ever experienced. Each morning we awoke at 7.00 am to frost sprinkled dunes, the frozen sand crackling underfoot as we made our way to the blazing camp fire, eagerly looking forward to our breakfast of freshly baked unleavened bread, which we would dip into jam and olive oil – there were two or three occasions when it was so cold that the olive oil had frozen, sorbet like fashion, into its bottle, and had to be thawed! Camp fires were also lit at our lunchtime and overnight stops.

After dinner, Vanessa was accorded a Pipes and Drums welcome, Adel playing the former, Ali the latter, under a shining full moon and twinkling stars. She had won the hearts of these desert men, who applauded her resilience, courage and upbeat outlook – the true nomadic qualities which come naturally to the Bedouin, and which they instantly respect in others unfamiliar with their way of life. On our last full day, we traversed the most testing sand sea desert I have yet encountered – steep, seemingly never ending dunes, the camels sinking deep into the sand under the weight of their loads. On our final morning, we padded softly back to Sabria, absorbing the sun, sand, silence and vastness of the Sahara. Having dismounted our camels for the last time, and given them a long cooling drink, we were invited to share lunch with all the family, diving our spoons into an enormous communal dish of couscous, brimming with spicy sauce and delicious vegetables. Vanessa had said to me that before leaving Tunisia, she needed to buy dates in the Duty Free shop at Tunis airport – fortuitously her wish was pre-empted by both Adel’s father, who gave her a whole branch of home grown dates from his oasis, and by our driver Belgacem, who arrived to collect us with a huge box full in the back of his Toyota for her to take back to London! Her other requirement was to return home with photographs for three of her friends, each of whom had given a scarf to their adventurous friend. Ali obediently wound the different scarves around Vanessa’s joyful countenance, twisting and turning them into handsome headdresses – photographs duly taken, mission happily accomplished. And that is exactly what I felt when the plane touched down at Heathrow.