SAHARA!SAHARA! I MISS YOU SO! 

Story and Photos by PamelaAnn Campbell

The Sahara sounds mythical and mysterious, unreachable, and to most travelers just a dream, but as my story unfolds, you'll discover that dreams can become a reality.

And all because tour organizers Ted and Luiza Reinhard want visitors to experience the 'real' Morocco, traveling with local guides on a Nomadic Adventure. In Ted's words, "We're one-stop Morocco." And if your interest extends beyond the Sahara, the Reinhards are open to providing an additional itinerary to facilitate further exploration of the country.

I'm en route to Morocco via New York and Casablanca aboard Royal Air Maroc, then to Ouarzazate, where Lawrence of Arabia, The Sheltering Sky and the Mummy were shot on location.

My temperature rises and the adrenaline flows with each kilometer our Land Rover driver negotiates along the Tizi-n-Tinifft Pass. There's little time to contemplate the intricacies of roads that bring the Indy 500 to mind, you either succumb to jet lag or you enjoy the ride down the Draa Valley.

Four hours later we arrive at hotel Sahara in M'Hamid, a family establishment that oozes genuine Moroccan hospitality a la Naamani brothers, Habib and Hassan.

Refreshed and re-packed, the trek begins with a Land Rover ride to a Nomad camp, but our tour deviates slightly and we spend the night in M'Hamid.

The Nomadic Blue Men (turbans, robes and flowing pants are all blue) are our guides. Our multi-lingual head guide, Moukhtare, speaks English, Spanish, Japanese, French, Italian, Arabic and Berber) and is literally a walking encyclopaedia on Nomads (the guides do not ride camels, they walk beside them).

I confess to having reservations about Habib wrapping a turban around my head despite his dexterity and finesse, but the result is pleasantly appealing. This is no costume parade, it's necessary protection against the sand and wind, especially those "dust devils" (blowing dust).

Mounting a camel requires planning ahead and speed - while it's kneeling, leap onto the saddle and grab the reins and hang tight and prepare to lurch backward and forward as the camel stands up. Exercise caution when dismounting, as the camel will sink to its knees with a swift jerk. Upon survival (and you will) everyone receives a camel driver's license (check mine out, it's worth a laugh).

After an hour's riding, you'll welcome an oasis lunch stop. The sight of 14 tired bodies stretched out on blankets under palm trees, reinforces the joys of a siesta. We feast on boiled egg and vegetable salad, rice, beef brochettes, bread, beets and olives. Fruit platters of juicy watermelons, pineapple, oranges, honey melons and strawberries are great refreshers, alongside thirst quenching hot mint tea and bottled water.

Suddenly clouds gather, growing ominously dark and large .... a brewing sandstorm is about to unleash its frenzied fury on man, beast and tree. I watch as the date palms bend and sway, I listen as the howling wind rages for what seems an eternity (actually 40 minutes) and marvel at the departing dust devils that leave their trademark yellow/brown coating.

Our caravan stops at the first base camp where we enjoy a dinner of harira soup, bread, lamb and couscous in a tent. The tents are fashioned from woven woolen blanket materials that offer protection from the elements and privacy for travelers.

It's an overwhelming feeling of sheer euphoria to gaze upwards at a sea of stars outshining the brilliant desert sky. How can I resist the temptation to spend my first night sleeping out on the sand dunes in my flannel pajamas, socks and turban on mats covered with sheets and blankets? (You'll need a jacket too, as the temperature drops during the night).

I close my eyes, surrendering myself to the great desert expanse that solemnly dissolves my stressed out body into a significantly ebullient state of restfulness. At five the next morning, I awaken to the compelling shreds of light seeping through the cracks of my vision as I inhale the crisp fresh air.

I am ready to chase the elusive sunrise, camera in hand. It's just me and the Sahara, the world's largest desert, a riveting and spellbinding sight. I race from one dune to the next, so excited and exhilarated I almost forget I'm still in my sleeping outfit. Fortunately, not a creature is stirring. I slip into the tent, perform a Houdini quick change, and I'm set for the day.

Breakfast is a heartening array of fresh mint tea, bread with honey, fruit spreads and cheese, and orange slices topped with cinnamon - set out on little tables surrounded by stools - a cafe on the desert fringes!

We set out for the Big Sahara (Zhigaga) still camel bound, then we switch to Land Rovers and head to camp for another night amidst mountainous sand dunes (over 300 feet).

When was the last time you enjoyed dinner - harira (soup), tangine (vegetable stew) and rice with bread -served around a roaring fire, sitting under star-studded skies and serenaded by musicians who happily sing and dance until the last embers flicker and fade away? Or watched bread baked in the sand, fired by burning tree branches for next morning's breakfast?

Sleep is more evasive on this night, the chatter is livelier, the numbers are greater - our outdoor 'dorm' fills up faster. Sleeping outdoors can't possibly be more fun than this!

After breakfast we climb the circuitous dunes eager to sit "on top of the world" and enjoy one last look at this rare phenomenon. I challenge and conquer the mighty dunes, even though I must crawl on hands and knees, camera gear in tow. Moukhtare offers to carry my bag and I refuse (I regret it later). Within seconds he disappears and reappears on the dunes, bounding along the top, and I'm still upward bound. He's a Nomad .... I'm not.

This is our last day on the camels before we return to M'Hamid. Lunch is at another oasis, fed by natural springs (great for cooling our bottled water, but not safe to drink). Two young Berber sisters, who smile a lot and giggle with each other, but are too shy for conversation, join us for the meal.

We follow the girls and their donkeys closer to where they live and find that life remains very simple in these parts. The women and children fetch water from open streams to do the laundry. They scrub and wash their clothes and hang them on the palm trees to dry.

After lunch at Hotel Sahara, an inhabited Kasbah walkabout offers a rare glimpse at a traditional lifestyle, centuries old, but now gradually fading away. The people are friendly, especially the children, but it's best to observe and retain your memories without cameras.

Apres-dinner showers top the agenda, followed by a good night's rest in preparation for the eight-hour drive to Marrakech via the High Atlas Mountains and the mind-bending 7,414-foot-high Tizi-n-Tichka Pass.

I'm in the throes of utter delight recording the ever-changing kaleidoscope of views on film as every sight becomes more compelling as we gaze at jagged peaks in the distance and directly below, in stark contrast, steep valleys. The fascinating countryside is dotted with Berber villages and verdantly green stepped terraces, the way it's been for ages. Soon the palm trees and lush vegetation hugging the highway, the roadside vendors offering fresh baskets of dates and quaint modes of transportation present a fascinating picture.

Our driver, Abdul Aziz, hides his amusement at my enthusiasm and happily responds to my curiosity. Yes, the white rocks are "road lights." The brightly colored scarves hanging by the roadside are either for sale or are drying (recently dyed), the woman is washing wool to make carpets and the car wrecks down below are not film props. We swing past men and boys with baggage-laden donkeys and drive through small towns with eye-catching displays of pottery, baskets and bottles.

Everyone wants to photograph the road sign "52 Jours Tombouctou" (52 days to Timbuktu), and we spot another proclaiming "Road to 2000 Casbahs." Abdul Aziz directs our wandering attention to the "eye" and the "heart" - both distinctive shapes etched into the almost lunar like rock formations (lava flow) from past volcanic activity.

We a given a "treat" by Ted and Luiza - a chance to enjoy horseback riding north of Ouarzazate after lunch.Velture, my five-year-old pure-bred Arabian seems an easy ride, but she fancies a quick gallop now and again, and after the second episode I came to expect the unexpected. It's a welcome opportunity to view the area surrounding the foothills of the Atlas Mountains, breathe the fresh air and let your imagination run wild about things to do and see on your next trip.

And so ends my sojourn in the Sahara, isn't it time you start yours?

Our next stop? Marrakech!

(PLEASE SEE CASABLANCA AND MARRAKECH - NORTH AFRICAN CITY LIGHTS IN OUR SPOT LIGHT ARCHIVES)