It turned chilly in the night in true desert style, and we had a great sleep in our warm and cosy tent. At the usual 5.30 am wake up, we went outside to a beautiful and clear sky, with the moon glinting its farewell to the night.
Tracks outside the tent told us that maybe our scorpion friend had hung around the space in the night.
We grabbed our cameras and crested the dune near our tent.
The sky was turning colour fast and these beautiful gold ribbons lit up the deep blue.
We sat on the dune near our tent for a while, enjoying the dawn breeze and silence.
We then walked into the dunes to find a higher vantage point for the birth of the sun.
Sunrise in the desert is a magical time, when the sands turn colour to welcome the day. Its very quick, so blink and you might miss it.
The ripples in the sand started to emerge after a quiet night.
I call this my "sand wave" picture, as it looks almost like a wave of sand is about to engulf you.
We found this mark on the sand, looking an aweful lot like the outline of a scorpion.
We decided to walk further into the dunes than we had the previous day. The breeze was still cool and it was getting brighter by the minute.
I used my Tuareg headgear to good effect, with the deep blues setting off the honey toned sand spectacularly. Carve out "Sahara" in the sand, and you have all the makings of a great pic.
I loved finding stark forms of life, struggling heroically to survive in the harsh desert landscape.
We stopped at a place deep in the dunes and sat around, enjoying the morning silence. The desert was rapidly coming alive around us.
It was nearing time for breakfast, and we decided to head back through another set of dunes.
Back at camp, it took us a while to find our breakfast table. It had been set up, in true style, amidst the dunes, but facing the sunrise this time. The desert air certainly seemed to have sparked a healthy appetite and we wolfed down a wonderful meal.
Gordon headed back to camp to pack up. I found myself lingering, not wanting to face up to the fact that pretty soon we would be leaving the desert.
I walk back into the dunes and finding a quiet spot sit down and look out upon the face of the desert. There is no sound, just the beating of my heart and the silence in my soul. I wish I can sit a while longer in the warm sand, looking out on the terrifying vastness, but I have to go. As I get up to leave, a puff of wind blows across the sands. Its as if the desert too is saying farewell.
Back at camp, Gordon has packed up everything with his usual efficiency. We sit around in the tent, loathe to leave. But it is time to go.
Outside, Mohammed is cementing his own special bond with the desert.
Since I have successfully spent time in the desert, Mohammed insists on a Berber initiation. I am now Tuareg, and as such have to don the headgear ! Mohammed does an excellent job of bandaging my head, and thus ordained, it is time to bid adieu to our wonderful camp and its staff.
The camp is soon behind us, but the desert is still near at hand, ever advancing.
After a while, we stop at what the Tuareg call Fossil Canyon. Turn over any piece of rock, just about any piece and you will find fossils.
Of course, you have to be careful when you turn the rocks over, as more often than not, you will also encounter snakes, as well as scorpions like the one below. Its a very sandy brown colour in the middle of the picture, and Mohammed pins it down with a stick. This is the most poisonous kind of scorpion in the desert.
We find a couple of nice rock pieces.
Back in the car, its time to load up on very welcome chilled water. Fossil hunting can be such hard work.
We stop at a small Tuareg camp to make friends with some beautiful young Berber girls, all dressed up in their local finery.
It is mid morning before we see the piste abruptly giving way to a tarred road again. It is official. We have ventured into the Sahara and have emerged unscathed. We get out to celebrate and Mohammed, true to form, says a small prayer of thanks for a safe journey.
We are on the outskirts of the border town of Foum Zguid, and although its been just a day, it feels like we have been away for a week. The desert does seem to have that kind of effect on you. Its time to rejoin civilisation, but not for Mohammed. He is off, back into the desert, the only kind of life he has ever known. His love for his land is infectious and we are lucky to have had him along for our tryst with the desert.
The rest of the drive is pretty uneventful. We grab a quick lunch enroute and set off again. It is mid afternoon when we pull into the village of Ait ben Haddou.
The ksar at Ait ben Haddou is an iconic emblem of Southern Morocco, and instantly recognisable, seeing as it has featured in many movies such as Lawrence of Arabia, and more recently, Gladiator. Now a Unesco World Heritage site, it is THE de rigeur ksar, and rightfully so. The first glimpse itself blows you away.
Access to the ksar is across a small wadi, which is dry in summer but tends to have water in winter and spring. One crosses by stepping over small bags of sand that have been laid down in the water, and there always little boys around to lend a helping hand.
Since its fame, some kasbahs in the ksar have undergone restoration work, especially to the upper sections. An entry fee is collected at the gate, usually by a member of a family living in the ksar.
We walk inside and climb into one of the towers.
At various levels, living quarters have been laid out. Those of women are easily identified by the "mushrabbiya" screens on the window, allowing for occupants to look out, while preventing outsiders from looking in.
The view from the top is spectacular, and one can see the crenellated towers and carvings up close.
The towers are often decorated with blind arches and geometric designs in negative relief, providing an interesting play of light and shadow.
Behind the kasbahs stand earth houses. At present, fewer than 10 families still inhabit the ksar.
We go down again, via another route, and end up in another part of the structure, the kitchen.
Outside, in the small alleyways of the ksar, we find this artist who does pyrotechnic art. He paints on paper using saffron dissolved in water, and then heats the sheet of paper, whereby the golden colour of the saffron emerges on the painting.
We walk back to the entrance through courtyards and arches.
Our visit is still not complete. We make way to this huge round compound under a hillock by the side of the ksar. This is where some scenes from the Gladiator were shot.
A nearby shopkeeper proudly displays pictures from the film shooting as well as photos with Russell Crowe and other cast members.
This is probably the best vantage point to see the adobe houses in the ksar.
We cross back to the other side, and look back at the wonderful site. It feels like looking onto something from the middle ages and suddenly reminds me of the Breughel painting of the Tower of Babel.
Khalid then drives us to a little village just a few miles from Ait ben Haddou, where our accommodation for the next couple of nights, Ksar Ighnda awaits. We check in and are shown into our beautiful room. We bask in the aircon, and after a luxurious shower, and some down time, head to the restaurant for dinner.
The hotel is an old ksar converted into a hotel property, and is beautifully lit up at night. The restaurant serves a really good dinner course, which Gordon thoroughly enjoyed. Its done gourmet style, and is very rich in flavour. I get the usual harira and chips, both done to perfection.
After a wonderful meal, we walk through the property before heading back to our room. As we sink into the soft bed, and pull the duvet over ourselves to create some cosy warmth from the blissfully cool aircon, my last thought before I drop off is of a white tent, amidst golden sands, and the solitude of millenia.
