Desert, Dunes, and Dromaderies

Sometime over the summer or maybe even in the spring when I had just found out about coming to Morocco, my grandpa already basically told me not to come back to America until I had seen the desert. No problem, it was definitely on the higher part of my Moroccan bucket list along with riding a camel. So, when I found out that the Explorers' Club wouldn't be taking a trip to the desert becasue the breaks this semester were too short, I knew I would have to go anyway possible. Luckily, a class project did all of the hard work for me, and I didn't just start walking south with some 1.5 liter water bottles strapped to me.

Leaving on a Thursday, because for some reason there was a holiday, we boarded vans, and headed towards Merzouga. The ride was not bad at all besides the driver keeping the window down while driving through the snow covered Atlas mountains for the first couple of hours. Partly due to the fact that I had actually slept the night before instead of writing blogs and being super whiny. Now, I kinda wish I had been writing instead. Also, the planners of the trip who were simulating a travel agency planned a bunch of stops for us along the way, a chance to get out, and stretch our legs. One of the stops was paradoxically in the snow covered Atlas range near a lake. As we got out, it was clear that we had all been expecting the desert, as we were all freezing. It made for an interesting situation, though considering that we were planning on going to the desert, leaving the snowy mountains.

 Making our way to the desert, we stopped along the way at several overlook areas before finally getting to a souvenir shop where we had the opportunity to buy the same goods the European tourists do. The best discription of the shop I could possibly give is a lot like an antique store, where the items being sold are extremely varied. Upstairs, we had rugs, teapots, scarves (which we were often forced to model), etc. to look at. While there, I saw a crazy shirt that I just had to have. I am actually currently wearing it, and I feel like I should be riding around with Scooby and the gang in the Mystery Machine because of the intricate pattern that only someone with a colonial sense of mind or on acid in the sixties would think up. But it's blue and comfy! Downstairs, there were more teapots, glasses, jewelry, and a wider selection of scarves. Obviously it was a tourist trap because everything was widely over-priced, but I wanted it all. Good play...

Only about an hour left in the journey to the desert resort, we headed back on the road before pulling off onto a dirt path, if that's what you want to call it since literally, there was just dirt everywhere. When finally getting to the hotel, we head to our rooms, and meet for dinner. After some friends went to the restroom and returned, they relayed that they had found the dunes right behind our resort, which faced east, the perfect place for the sunrise. Despite being super exhausted from all the sitting we did that day, we decided to wake up early and go watch the sunrise the next morning, which surely did not disappoint. It was technically my first step in the sands of the Sahara the next morning when we climbed up a baby dune to see the sky change colors. I did a lot of experimenting with my camera, because despite how awesome it is, I am still far from a good photographer. Still, though, none of the pictures did the moment or the scenery justice.

Next, came a short breakfast before I headed back to the room for a nap since that night we would be sleeping out in the desert, which apparently drastically drops in temperature at night. Sleeping for a couple of hours, I woke up,  and began packing everything I might need for a night in the desert into my backpack-not the easiest task for someone who overpacks for every occassion because I am indecissive and like to be as prepared as a mom with infant triplets.

So, we walk out behind the resort again, where the camels (dromedaries) are waiting for us. I am one of the first in the group to be led to the camels and put on, which is not a comforting endeavor. Because of how camels are made, first there back legs go up, then the front, so it essentially feels like your going to be thrown off frontwards. However, at this point, I was still very carefree and loving the adventure. Slightly into our journey, I began feeling like this would be a horrible camel ride. My line of camels was close to last, and there were some other groups up ahead waiting on us. As we were making our way up there, the girl in front of me gasped, and she later explained that she saw one guy fall off the camel. Not overly concerned at this point, I just knew I would have to pay more attention because I am more use to horseback riding than camels, which are completely different experiences, which I had heard before. Nearing to where the groups ahead were waiting, there was a problem behind me. I heard a deep grunting noise, which I thought was just the camel behind me being fussy, then, I heard a lot of gasping, and a yell. It turns out, my friend, Ellen, had ejected herself from her camel, which was directly behind me. Apparently, Damien, which the camel became known as, had decided to lay down, and as my camel kept walking, following the others, he started slipping and being drug. As he was falling, Ellen must have jumped off just in time. However, since the camels are tied up so tightly to one another, Damien the camel was being drug by my camel, and just making horrible noises. Somehow, we all stopped, and untied the camels, but it was just insane and terrifying. I had the same feeling as when the horse laid down and began rolling at the beginning of the year when I had gone to see the monkeys in Cedre Gourad. For the rest of the journey, I was just freaking out about what would happen. I also dropped my lens cap multiple times, and the camel guys had to stop us to pick it up. My camera was banging against the handle bars, making me even more nervous. Since the camels were tied so closely together, and mine was at the back, he was constantly lagging behind, or going too fast to catch up, I had never been so glad as when we finally reached the camp with the tents, and I was dreading the next day when we would have to get back on. Plus, it really hurt my butt.

The night was full of card games, singing by a campfire, and layers of clothes. Early the next morning, some much more ambitious morning people decided to climb a huge dune to watch the sunset, but I decided that halfway up was good enough. The night before had been so much fun, that I really didn't wake up in enough time to see a good sunrise, like from dark to light, but I still had a pretty decent view nonetheless. Sorry, the pictures are still on my iPhone, and I have the same patience (and seemingly knowledge) as an eighty year old woman with technology. And I'm lazy. However, as I was watching the sunrise, I got to witness a camel running away from the camp despite it's leg was tied. The camel got pretty far before any of the guys realized it was making a break for some fresh veggies. Secretly, I guess I was hoping that it would go get lost so that we would be a camel short and I could walk back to the resort instead of riding one of those moving mountains. 

We had breakfast, which was just your typical continental breakfast in the desert. No biggie. Then, we were told to go pack our stuff up so that we could leave. Sadly, I had to get on a camel, and I made the poor decision of choosing Damien. It really wasn't that bad for awhile because we were close to the front, but then all the sudden, Damien started shaking. I guess the demons possessing him were finally taking over. After getting the camel dude's attention, we stopped, and I was put on another camel, unfortunately more in the back of the line. We were basically the struggle  caravan, as everyone on my line had problems. Ellen stopped us to go pee behind a dune. Another girl literally just fell off a camel. Trust me, never sign up for riding a camel for more than like thirty minutes. That's truly when it gets old and you just don't need a sore but, aching arms, and fingers you can't move from holding on for your life. 

Later in the day, was time for the SUV rides, and I cannot explain how happy I am that we live in the twenty-first century where we have cars and are able to drive instead of ride camels. Not only are they much more comfortable, but they're a lot more fun. I was slightly disappointed, as I thought we would be riding through the desert on dunes, like I had seen earlier in the day on the ride back to the resort, but we basically just went on a tour of the area. Here's some mood music while you're reading. Apparently tourists in Morocco really like Bob Marley because it kept playing on repeat throughout the entire ride.

Way out in the distance, you see a darker contrast against the horizon. That's Algeria. A lot of ISIS jokes were made.

We stopped to look at some fossils, and Kat is just super photogenic, so I took a picture.

A nomad shed/barn

An old quartz mine. The hill is now mostly used for camel grazing, as you can see by the two dots.

An old ghost town where the employees from the mine use to live.

Merzouga Oasis

Once we got back, we planned on going to watch the sunset in the desert since the sunrise that morning hadn't been that great. We climbed up a mountain of sand to the top, but the sun had already pretty much went down. It was still a great adventure though. We tried jumping off the dune and rolled down to the bottom when we were done. It was also when I filled up a 1.5 liter bottle of sand to take home with me. No one tell Homeland.... Getting back to the resort in the dark was interesting, but that night we had a little goodbye meeting, where the guys who organized the trip gave each of us a camel, and there was a raffle. Yours truly actually won something too! I got the basic tourist knife that everyone who goes to the Orient buys, but I was still really proud. I could definitely shank someone with it, or bludgeon them, but not skin a camel or anything. 

On the way back to AUI the next day, I mostly spent the ride hijacking Anamaria's iPad to watch Sherlock. It's truly a new favorite, guys. We stopped to walk through an oasis, and my inner eight ear old was super excited to be like Eliza Thornberry. Later, we stopped for dinner, where I finally had kefta, and I was not disappointed at all. 

The trip was amazing, and I was really glad that I had gone. Turns out, I was going to be allowed to go home at the end of the semester because I had completed my grandpa's only request and went to the desert. I would highly recommend going to anyone who has the chance, just remember, do NOT think it's a great idea to ride a camel for hours on end. I know, you all are like, "But Emily, it's a camel. When am I going to get to do that again?" I agree. Ride the camel, but not for more than like thirty minutes.  You get a great memory without the pain.