Desert Trip 2
Early start at 7:30am. Breakfast consisted of cake (with bread, natch). We drove through desert, serene and peaceful it may be whilst being done, it doesn't make for good blogging.
Lunch was Omelette a la Berbere (vegetable omelette in a tagine). Bits of the dish were uncooked, so doubtlessly a bout of Salmonella is on its way - what was I thinking? Although I should give credit where it is due: the food has been great, and I am still on solids. If you know what I mean.
The dishes on the Moroccan leg of my trip fit into 3 categories: couscous, tagine, omelette. Apparently this is what has evolved from years of serving tourists, as Fareed said: 'it may be limited, but it is what the client wants.' It's a reflection of the visitors' unimaginative tastes. It seems that the client also wants sugary mint tea with everything, and at GBP1 for a shot, who can complain? Well me actally - that is a fcking rip off. It makes Starbucks look charitable!
The last 4km of the journey to our Berber camp in the Sahara desert was done in a caravan of camels. This was nothing less than one of these memories that will stick with me for the rest of my life (or until the Parkinson's or Alzeimer's gets the better of me). It really puts into perspective how fortunate I am to be an unemployed Investment Banker in his late 20s without any ties. I don't want to get too soppy, but I was lucky to be at the front of the caravan looking across the desert without anyone interupting my view, and was completely spoiled by what I could see. As we rode, the flat, baron desert with scattered prickly plants was replaced by the sterotypical sand dunes. Huge undulating domes of sand: rich, golden waves of sand caught in slow motion riding across the landscape against the clear blue sky. I wish I could show you photos, but they will have to wait. For me the setting evoked memories of nature shows by David Attenborough and epic films such as the English Patient and Carry On Follow That Camel.
For the avoidance of doubt: riding a camel in the Sahara is highly recommended!
It is probably a bit of a stretcht to think we were hosted by authentic Berber people at the camp, but they wore the right costumes, could play drums, had dreadful teeth and smelt of hashish. It has me fooled. Their main function was to make sure we were looked after: food, drink and entertainment. So we shared a bottle of Rose, stuffed outselves with vegetables & rice, chicken & vegatable tagine and bread. Nothing out of the ordinary, but to think we were doing all this in a makeshift camp on the side of a sand dune with a group of 4 Berber people who looked like members of the Taleban!
Dinner was followed by sitting around a fire in the centre of our camp, playing drum, drinking tea and smoking 'chocolate'. This led to a bedazzling walk in a stoned stupor into the Sahara pitch blackness. There was no moon or light pollution: five meters from the camp and you could scarely differentiate whether your eyes were open or closed. The perfect conditions for star-gazing.
I want to say I felt at that moment mankind and all the cosmos were rooted in a single unified energy; and that for those 10 or so minutes that we gazed into the heavens to stare upon a million galaxies, a billion stars, a trillion possibilities, I felt a grand sense of contentment. What lies beyond the blackness? Is the sky really black, the longer one looks the more stars come into view. One's eyes chase for tails of shooting stars zipping across the sky. What does it all mean? Are we alone? But I didn't. Instead I wanted to go find some cookies and watch repeats of the Magic Roundabout!
