The Sensational Sahara

by Mwende Musau (Kenya)

A leap into the unknown Morocco

“Take only what you need and carry water. Leave the rest here!” exclaimed our bus driver, Ahmad. He never smiled and often impatiently yelled “Yallah!” (Let’s go). We quickly gathered our belongings and hurried toward an awaiting caravan of camels. The sun lorded over us like a pitiless executioner; our skin was at its mercy, getting stabbed by daggers of unforgiving rays. The sound of feet dragging down against the ground echoed in the air; cracked lips accompanied by parched throats nearing borderline dehydration, small squinting eyes struggling to see. I had arrived in Morocco two days prior, before tediously traversing south-east of the Sahara Desert on a ten-hour drive with strangers. A few hours after arrival, an acquaintance, Sue, informed me that she was travelling the next day. The spontaneous adventurer within me decided to take a leap into the unknown. These camels were old; their fur, dirty and branded. Lined up, awaiting their ‘masters’. Despite being wary and hesitant, there was no alternative mode of transportation. Our excursion soon began. I’ve never enjoyed camel riding, ascending is uncomfortable, riding is a challenge. You lose control of your body and sway helplessly like a seesaw, up and down. It was evident the camels were either uncomfortable or tired because they kept stepping out of line. A guide forcefully pulled at a rope on a camel’s mouth. In rebellion, it pulled back, bleating in annoyance. A leather whip swiftly caned it with severe sadistic lashes, increasing the camel’s agitation. Was there no end to the depths of animal cruelty in the tourism industry? We were surrounded by sand pyramids stretching far beyond the naked eye’s purview. The sand, so fine and crisp in its honey golden colour, gleaming and glowing. It seemed so lifeless and barren like no creature had any chance of survival in this seamless sandbox. I’d never seen so much beauty in prism-shaped desert dunes, they were magnanimous mountains of yellow twilight accompanied by smaller sinking seas of sand. The slopes were steep and some pits edged below the surface. No permanent structures in this Moroccan haven, even camel’s footprints were blown away by the wind. The sizzling Sahara radiated past the horizon. An hour and a half later, our tented accommodation appeared. We were greeted with an uncomfortable camel decent in the middle of an accumulation of filthy faeces. The sun was descending and the atmosphere, cool. Our tented camp was an oasis in the desert. Life seemed to calm down, the elements at our disposal. We ran into the desert wild! The sand was so soft and warm, it felt like each grain was kissing my toes. As sunset approached, Sue and I, began to climb the largest dune around. The trek proved itself arduous but from the top, the view was simply sensational! You could see the shapes of all dunes from high above, anyone at a distance looked like an ant. The sun’s rays changed from bright yellow to a halcyon hue of orange. There was pin-drop silence as we were all in awe, gawking at a stunning spectacle unveiling before our very eyes. The rays sprinkled over the valley of the desert, giving the dunes one last call to the day before night-time. They shimmered in colours of red, orange and yellow, bidding the earth farewell. In a slow-motion movement, the sun descended, leaving a splash of orange in the sky. It looked so isolated from all other forms of existence like it was performing in a play and we had front row seats. After sunset, darkness scattered across the sky faster than a swarm of locusts. All the stars were so clear at night, they dizzied and dazzled. The shapes of constellations were visible, blazing beautifully in space. My hand reached out as if I could grab them. There was a full moon reflecting rays of perfection; the centrepiece of nature’s mosaic collection, truly a work of art. Sue and I were lying down on the sand, heads facing the serene sky. Humbly watching, hypnotized by the stars.