The desert welcomed us like an emotive, yet pensive, ancestor, holding our hands and guiding us into his home. The undercurrent to this greeting was the feeling that he was intent on letting go at any given moment, tasking us with the daunting project of survival. Disembarking from the camel, I felt a notorious pain around the groin and thigh region; a pain that I would become all too familiar with over the next few days. My feet landed on the scorching sand as my brain worked overtime to assist the leg muscles in furiously coping with their newfound use. I tugged gently on my camel’s rope and he bent down in two swift movements to engage in his rest for the day. We entered our camp for the evening which had been erected in the middle of absolutely nowhere, a temporary residence for those making their way through this section of the desert, to disappear soon after we left. We made introductions with two older men who smiled at us encouragingly and let us know that they themselves lived within the depths of the desert itself. These men of the desert had a surprising command for the English language and we made the beautiful transition from stranger to friend over the daily task of cutting vegetables with a homemade knife. As the copious amounts of oil bubbled ferociously on the open fire we had recently erected, all that were present organically went on their own little adventures amongst the vast desert.

The sun was dying by the minute and I navigated without direction three sand dunes to my west. The heat that had been trapped in the sand throughout the day was waning quickly and I therefore created a sand seat, crossed my legs and observed the landscape and the immense beauty it offered. I could make out the long blonde hair of my British comrades in the distance; far enough to warrant silence yet close enough to make sure none of us was in any serious danger. The sky in front of us was a remarkable piece of work; that much was obvious. The conversion from bright orange to a darker more auburn tone made for magnificent viewing material. It once again reaffirmed my desire to abscond temporarily from the city of London. To rid myself of the towering skyscrapers, the ever-connected communication devices and the lack of natural bliss. Not all human’s are dealt with the same privilege to up and change their day to day environments and indulge in a taste of what different may be. Many of those I knew prioritised the accumulation of wealth over what may seem like drivel. Nevertheless, no money in the world could be a substitute for the sense of harmony that hovered currently throughout the camel-infused air.

After 45 tranquil minutes of individual navel-gazing we all ventured back towards our base for the night where a small yet delicious feast of piping hot vegetables curries and soft white rice was served. With each bite we ate, the temperature began to drop considerably and extra layers became a necessity to combat the weathers insistent change of mood. Just under 2 hours ago, the heat had been almost unbearable and now I found myself wearing a winter beanie hat safely secured underneath the hood of my jacket. My early morning endeavours were to come to great use. I eagerly grabbed the bottle of local whiskey out of my rucksack and took a swig to warm myself up. We sat around the campfire like scouts on their first trip to the wilderness, with the bottle passing between us; the whiskey agreeably invaded the lips of the men of the desert.

We were now men of the desert.

The contents of the whiskey bottle came to its completion in unison with the roaring fire’s demise. With the heat from our two sources extinct, sleep was the only practical choice. We nestled into the bedroom that nature had reserved for us and the term sleeping under the stars had come to actuality. Surrendering to the pull of the night under a thick homespun blanket, the wind whispered consistently throughout the cool morning like a purring tigress. I do not recollect the exact time I woke up out of my slumber in the middle of the night. However, when I did, the glistening stars looked down on me encouragingly and brought a fleeting feeling of the insignificance of one human within this vast universe.

I woke up early to watch another epic episode of the Sun Rise. Piping hot sugary chai was being made and once consumed we left camp by 8am. Our group had packed our bags, loaded the camels and were on our way once again through the expansive desert. Braced for the muscular leg pain that would come, we rode atop the camels for a lengthy 3 hour stretch. In those three hours, the weather once again changed quicker than a child recently diagnosed with bi-polar disorder. The camels themselves were less directionally stable than on our first day with them. They continuously veered off the non-existent track and without much training in the field of camel management, we were very dependent on our guides to stop, track back, and help us back on course.

The first port of call came in the form of an extremely remote village where we stopped at a large spherical watering hole so our camels could get some well-earned hydration. While the camels indulged, the villagers swarmed to us to inspect their uninvited and unusually dressed visitors. As usual, and somewhat frustratingly, all the attention and amazement was in the direction of my two Caucasian companions. The children made persistent demands for gifts in the form of our hats, sunglasses and trainers, as we tried to outwalk them into the centre of the small village. Here we were told by our guides to take a seat on the floor of the village chief’s house, while someone prepared more chai for us. The chief looked a lot older than his years. The everlasting days of the desert had taken their toll on this man’s face in the form of tanned wrinkles and eyes that resembled mosaic glass. As he squatted, he lit his bidi and offered us three a local smoke, which we all politely declined.

We did not talk much.

Yet there was an unspoken conversation that went on between us in the air. It conveyed our appreciation for allowing us foreigners into his compact room for chai and his appreciation for men of the west attempting to understand a man of the desert. Moreover there was a common understanding that although we were all from different lands, we found solace in drinking the chai and being in one another’s company.