I write this from the scant shade of a thorny tree, atop a sand dune. The only sounds are the wind-blown sand, the chat of the camel drivers and the relentless crunching and tearing of Alice's camel eating the scenery. It has been doing so since we arrived here about 20 minutes ago. It's a machine. Alice has named it "Crunchy" for obvious reasons. I have named mine "Roy" because I'm not so good at naming things.
Roy has been laying on the ground since we stopped to rest. As we crested the dune, he was breathing so hard I thought he was going to pass out. He now looks at me with an air of disdain, chin on the sand. He is the smallest camel in the group and I am the largest person.
It is about 3:30 in the afternoon. Although the hottest part of the day is over the sky is bleached white by the sun, the sand strangely dark below.
We are being called to leave.
We amble slowly back in a loop, toward the "resort". This is a small, walled enclosure containing around six huts for sleeping around a central courtyard. Before setting out on the camels, we were brought here in the back of a jeep at breakneck speed for about 45 minutes across the desert. At the moment, we are all sitting in the courtyard on plastic chairs - six pairs of tourists.
Having spoken to all of them, they each have a story strikingly similar to ours. They all landed in Delhi. All were stricken with sleep-deprivation, culture shock and fear, having been dropped from the airport straight into the bazaar. All of them wandered into a tourist information centre to get a map/directions/train information, only to emerge 20 minutes later with a dazed feeling and a tour of North India booked.
We are all hamsters on the tourist wheel.
A band have started playing. There are three guys: one on a drum, one playing a squeeze-box type affair, and one with a pair of slates in each hand which he plays like castanets. This lends the music an almost Mediterranean feel.
Dinner is served - a selection of curried vegetables, chapati, curd and rice. This is the first time I've felt truly hungry since Varanasi and I go back for seconds. Finally, we are given the choice of sleeping in one of the huts or sleeping in the desert. Almost everyone elects to sleep outdoors.
In the dark, we load our bedding and ourselves onto a cart and are drawn by camel back into the desert for about twenty minutes. We set up our beds and lay back on blankets that smell faintly of camel, wrapping ourselves in scarves against the sandy breeze. There is a storm in the distance and the wind picks up. We see lightning far away.
It is later now and the sky is a million tiny points of light. We see a shooting star.
We wake to morning in the desert. I am surprised about how loud it is - birds, insects and what sound like frogs all sing in the rising sun. The sand around us is dense with animal tracks. A spider bigger than anything I have ever witnessed first-hand has spent the night in our bed with us. As I pack up the bedding it is shaken free. Our camel driver remarks that this particular kind is "not too dangerous", but is quick to dance out of the way when it trundles in his direction. I later find out that it was what's known as a camel spider. This is the closest picture I can find. Ours was a little more leggy.
We pack up, have breakfast and take a bone-crunching jeep ride back to Jaisalmer.
Roy has been laying on the ground since we stopped to rest. As we crested the dune, he was breathing so hard I thought he was going to pass out. He now looks at me with an air of disdain, chin on the sand. He is the smallest camel in the group and I am the largest person.
It is about 3:30 in the afternoon. Although the hottest part of the day is over the sky is bleached white by the sun, the sand strangely dark below.
We are being called to leave.
___________________
We amble slowly back in a loop, toward the "resort". This is a small, walled enclosure containing around six huts for sleeping around a central courtyard. Before setting out on the camels, we were brought here in the back of a jeep at breakneck speed for about 45 minutes across the desert. At the moment, we are all sitting in the courtyard on plastic chairs - six pairs of tourists.
Having spoken to all of them, they each have a story strikingly similar to ours. They all landed in Delhi. All were stricken with sleep-deprivation, culture shock and fear, having been dropped from the airport straight into the bazaar. All of them wandered into a tourist information centre to get a map/directions/train information, only to emerge 20 minutes later with a dazed feeling and a tour of North India booked.
We are all hamsters on the tourist wheel.
A band have started playing. There are three guys: one on a drum, one playing a squeeze-box type affair, and one with a pair of slates in each hand which he plays like castanets. This lends the music an almost Mediterranean feel.
Dinner is served - a selection of curried vegetables, chapati, curd and rice. This is the first time I've felt truly hungry since Varanasi and I go back for seconds. Finally, we are given the choice of sleeping in one of the huts or sleeping in the desert. Almost everyone elects to sleep outdoors.
In the dark, we load our bedding and ourselves onto a cart and are drawn by camel back into the desert for about twenty minutes. We set up our beds and lay back on blankets that smell faintly of camel, wrapping ourselves in scarves against the sandy breeze. There is a storm in the distance and the wind picks up. We see lightning far away.
It is later now and the sky is a million tiny points of light. We see a shooting star.
We wake to morning in the desert. I am surprised about how loud it is - birds, insects and what sound like frogs all sing in the rising sun. The sand around us is dense with animal tracks. A spider bigger than anything I have ever witnessed first-hand has spent the night in our bed with us. As I pack up the bedding it is shaken free. Our camel driver remarks that this particular kind is "not too dangerous", but is quick to dance out of the way when it trundles in his direction. I later find out that it was what's known as a camel spider. This is the closest picture I can find. Ours was a little more leggy.
We pack up, have breakfast and take a bone-crunching jeep ride back to Jaisalmer.
___________________
It'd our last night in Jaisalmer - we sit on the roof of the Royal. A woman sings Islamic prayer into the evening from the fort above us. Her voice rings out over the city. Tonight we catch the night train to Jodhpur.
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