reminiscing the sahara.

Before I forget, I should get down to chronicling my first (hopefully not the last!) Euro-African vacation. But I’m too lazy, and not inspired. So I’ll just note down the Africa one first cos I am never going back to Sahara desert. Yep! It was beautiful, I tell you. The sand, the stillness, and the obscurity.

Except I puked twice on the way up (and then down to the desert, in case you’re wondering why it’s up the desert), sweated like a pig in that stuffy car, blistered under the scorching sun, attempted to rub my eyes raw because the wind kept blowing fine sand into them and basically felt like the smelliest and most disgusting hobo ever. And I would have paid 50 (sg!)bucks for a cold pao pao char to be delivered to me in the middle of the sand dunes. Heck, I’d even pay for the helicopter and the pilot. On the drive down the mountains, I had the biggest impulse to murder myself by jumping off the cliff because my head was being screwed all over by motion sickness.

But phew! the experience. I love the camels. Look at the camel.

cute camel from kenneth's cam

cute camel from kenneth's cam


















Look at that camel and tell me you don’t love it. It shits and pees and walks at the same time! Apparently, this cool hippie from New York told me while we were queuing to get on the plane back to Madrid that one-humped camels are called dromedary. But we’ll just call them camels here. I love it that camels look so peaceful. And I think it’s because no one’s home. How come the mean people haven’t thought to call bimbos camels? I mean I’m not being mean but they have the most clueless look I’ve ever seen. NOTHING goes on in that head of theirs. They just drink and squat and walk/shit/pee and stand up and be led around by their noses. I could stare at their faces all day. It’s really meditative; I’m not trying to be sarcastic. And as a result, they look like they’re perpetually doped. Argh! SO CUTE. Oh! And that chewing action going on forever with their mouths! Cutest things ever.

The desert. It’s nice. But a bit spoiled. Too many tourists and a bit…contrived. I get that we’re being fleeced you know. 130euros, the desert merchants have cash rolling in like camel shit down the sand. It’s not real anymore. I’m not complaining but I would have had a more satisfying experience if they hadn’t made that so explicit with the whole atmosphere. But the sunset was still good. I don’t think it’ll be the best I’ll ever see or have ever seen, for that matter. But I think everyone at the desert was sufficiently awed by the whole affair. The sun sinking slowly behind the waves of sand, so fluid. The stillness, how your voice dies in the air around you. Mostly the quietness I think. So I think the impact would have been greater if I could somehow feel more alone. It’s like in limbo, so detached from the world and far away from worldly sensations. You could just

Listen. To your heart.


And look! Algeria is behind us (:

Algeria in the Backdrop

Algeria in the Backdrop


One response to “reminiscing the sahara.

  1. Pingback: morocco: what the guidebooks won’t tell you. « val is ranting.

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