Looking for Adventure in the heart of the desert

I had traveled to many remarkable destinations around the globe before setting foot in the sands of the Sahara. From uninhabited beaches in Indonesia to the remote islands of Lake Titicaca, each place I visited was vastly different, often isolated, and, of course, indescribably beautiful. Yet despite the unique culture and character of these places, they all shared one unsettling commonality: the imprint of other travelers had always beaten me there.
The evidence, it seemed, was unmistakable: I heard it in the voices of the children selling cheap trinkets and postcards everywhere I went. I sensed it in the weary promises of 'tour guides' hawking hidden waterfalls and unspoiled views, and I saw it in the eager faces of hoteliers, practically pleading for positive reviews on TripAdvisor.

We like to think of ourselves as 'travelers,' not 'tourists,' as if our quest for something off the beaten path sets us apart. But no matter how hard we try to distance ourselves from the crowds, the truth is, our experiences are shaped by an ever-growing industry that, no matter how far we wander, always somehow finds us first: Wi-Fi, American breakfasts, and destinations flooded with countless others, all in search of something new and undiscovered.

But when the world becomes so predictable that the very essence of travel - unknowable adventure - becomes obsolete, why not just save yourself the trouble and stay at home?

With that in mind, I recently set out to one of the most alluring destinations I could imagine - the Sahara Desert - where I planned to journey by camelback to the foot of Africa’s tallest sand dune, to see if it was still possible to get away from the crowds, to find authentic adventure, and to determine if it was possible, in the most remote of locations, to still get lost. 

The predictable leg of my journey—Asheville to Charlotte, Charlotte to New York, New York to Paris—soon gave way to the unfamiliar: Casablanca to Marrakech by bus, then by  tour van to Ouarzazate, a place that sounded as exotic as it felt, where in lieu of the bland tour group package, I hired a personal driver, Hasan, to deliver me to even deeper into the desert.

Hasan didn't speak English, so there was little verbal communication between us as he chauffeured me through Martian-like terrain, dotted by sparse oasis of majestical palms until the names of places became even more elusive: The Rose Valley, Rissani, Merzouga, and finally Erg Chebbi, located on the very edge of the great desert. 

It was here that I said goodbye to Hasan and the comforts his air conditioned Toyota, met up with my Berber guide, Yousef, and climbed onto the back of Joe, my camel, who would be my only form of transportation for the next few days.

Yousef prepares Joe, my Dromedary camel, and two others for our adventure into the desert. The camels in Morocco have a single hump, and are therefore referred to as Dromedary camels. Two-humped camels are found mostly in Central Asia, and will therefore not take part in this story.

I was joined by two Turkish sisters and a pair of men from Germany, and the five of us, led by Yousef and another Berber man, began our slow, deliberate ascent up a steep wall of orange sand, its tall peak hiding whatever lay on the other side.

When we finally crested the ridge, I was greeted by a sight that, for once, felt truly alien. The landscape stretched out in all directions as far as the eye could see—a vast, endless sea of golden-orange dunes. It was as if we had left Earth on our camels and landed on an uninhabited planet.

Sunrise as viewed from the highest sand dune on the African continent

And in that moment, looking across that harsh and unknowable landscape, I realized I had found what I’d come for. There were no resorts or trendy restaurants or children touting cheap trinkets to hapless tourists anywhere in sight; there weren't even any roads, paved or otherwise - just endless, rolling sand stretching out for miles and miles in every direction. In the distance, a lone camel train crossed a dune, the silhouettes appearing no bigger than ants. Aside from that, we were utterly alone, in the middle of nowhere.

For hours we rocked to the slow, swaying rhythm of our camels, moving up and down over the dunes as we ventured deeper into that vast, golden landscape. We stopped at the crest of a tall dune to take photos, and Yousef directed our attention to what seemed like an ordinary patch of sand near his feet. No one noticed anything unusual until he submerged his hand beneath the surface and retrieved a shiny golden lizard. Yousef smiled as he presented the creature to us, an indication of the unseen life that was unknowingly happening all around us, then set the creature free, and we watched with amazement as the lizard disappeared beneath the surface of the sand.

As the sun slowly dipped beyond the horizon, we arrived at our base camp, a collection of canvas tents nestled at the foot of the highest sand dune in Africa. We climbed down from our camels and washed our hands and feet in water brought in from somewhere far away, as there was no natural source of water for miles around. Our camels were freed to join a small group of other dromedaries, where they laid to rest contentedly on the sand beneath a patch of scruffy trees. Yousef, along with several other Berber men, began preparing dinner: A spicy Tagine of goat, potatoes, and vegetables, while the rest of us sat together on rugs sipping mint tea, taking in the extraordinary surrounding views.

basecamp for the night

Dinner in the desert was unexpectedly delicious, a surprising touch of luxury amidst the inhospitable surroundings. Our group was presented with another round of hot tea, and as the darkness settled in, the African sky revealed itself as an infinite blanket of glittery, shimmering stars above us. An echo of beating drums floated across the dunes from somewhere in the distance, and as if lured by the call of the unknown, I stood up and wandered away from base camp, venturing out across the dunes until I was enveloped by nothing but the vast silence of the desert. Nothing but stars above me and soft, slippery sand beneath my bare feet. And then the magic unfolded: As if on cue, the moon emerged over the horizon, bathing everything around me in a silvery light.

Far behind, across the dunes, the faint flicker of our campfire was the only indication of the familiar world I'd left behind. All other distractions had fallen away. I stood alone beneath the desert moon for what felt like hours, just taking it all in before finally making my way back toward the fire, the rhythmic beating of the drums, basecamp, my cot for the night, and my camel - the one who would ultimately lead me back to civilization and it's daily rigors. But as I crossed the sands that night, a joyful warmth overwhelmed me, knowing that I'd found exactly what I'd come for. And I knew that there was so much more out there, just waiting to be discovered. Only, sometimes you have to look a little deeper to find it.

Joe Camel

I'm an Asheville based photographer, writer, and website designer with over twenty years of experience creating imagery for hundreds of clients in Western North Carolina and beyond. My studio photography specializes in headshots for business and corporations, law firms, artists, entrepreneurs, models, and actors, as well as stylized theme portrait sessions for personal branding, maternity, local and regional musicians. Photo services are available throughout the south, including Raleigh, Charlotte, Winston Salem, Greenville, Columbia, Spartanburg, Knoxville, and Johnson City. Photo sessions are fun and easy, and consultations are always free, so drop me a line and let's plan something amazing together!