BEAUTY AND BOREDOM, CHALLENGE AND CHERISH
How do you convey the feeling and experience of travelling in a camel caravan for 25 days over 620 km through the largest sand desert in the world? You can’t. The only way to really know what it feels like would be to do it yourself as every person experienced it differently. However, there were a few recurring themes and topics that can perhaps provide some insight into how this adventure unfolded for me personally.
DAILY ROUTINE
No one day was the same on this journey, but there was a common routine that emerged after a few days of travelling. A typical travel day on the caravan looked like this:
- Normally I would wake up at 4:45 AM to the sound of prayer chants. It was still dark at this time but the stars and the moon usually provided enough light to move about. Roll my aching body out of my tent, then pack up my stuff and fold up tent. First challenge of the day was to find my camel. Some camels would stay close to our camp at night, some tended to stray away a few hundred metres. My camel was in the latter category so I often had to spend 10 minutes or so looking for it and bringing it back to our camp. Scarves around the neck of the camel in the colour of our team made it easier.
Camels often spread out quite some distance from camp and it was hard to find them in the morning!
- Prepare the saddle and padding of my camel. This was quite a challenge for me at first and it probably took me a good 10 days to master the art of tightening the straps properly so the saddle wouldn’t loosen up with time. Igor and I were the only westerners in our group and our group leader Mohamed and his right-hand man Abdullah would spend many frustrating hours trying to help and teach us how to do it… I felt stupid it took me so long to learn, but then again these guys have years of experience and are simply way more dexterous than us. Because I had more problems than most people with my saddle wobbling around in the first week, I ended up getting up earlier and spending way more time saddling up than most others. While Mohamed would get his camel ready in under 5 minutes, the whole process often took me a good half hour!
- Breakfast was delivered by pick-up truck around 6 AM and typically consisted of pita bread, a boiled egg, a small portion of honey and a portion of halwa (a sweet sesame paste). On rare days we had freshly brewed tea with our food, but usually it was just bottled water. Towards the end, we often had a small can of tuna instead of an egg. No cutlery of course, you just ate with your hands and used the sand to wash them afterwards. We basically just sat around in the sand, sometimes leaning against our saddles or bags, and it usually didn’t take more than 10 minutes anyway to eat it all.
Our standard breakfast. Actually pretty tasty and nutritious.
- After breakfast we spent some time cleaning up, collecting our bags and tents in one pile, and making sure our camels and we ourselves were ready for another long day of riding. All garbage was piled up and set on fire, including tons of empty plastic bottles, tuna cans, aluminum foil (from the dinners the night before), etc. An easy and practical solution to get rid of our rubbish quickly, but needless to say a complete disaster from an environmental point of view.
The garbage that accumulated was simply burnt on site.
- Anytime between 7 and 8 AM we would get the sign to mount our camels and the caravan would finally start moving. Group 1 first, then group 2, and so on. The idea was to avoid a stampede of camels all stomping off at the same time, which could lead to camels getting nervous and running wild. In the course of the first hour we would all mix and mingle as some camels or riders were of course faster than others, so the groups were never really travelling separately (except on the first and last day).
The caravan gets ready for another long day of riding. On the right is Goran, always well-prepared and on time.
- In the mornings we covered the most distance, often riding for four to five hours non-stop through an endless sea of sand dunes, following the main leader of the caravan, a bedouin by the name of Abu Saleh. There were always support vehicles around us and finding the right direction to go was not an issue – you just had to aim for the cars waiting for us in the distance. The real challenge for Abu Saleh was to navigate the many big sand dunes we encountered, especially in the first few weeks where the terrain was more complicated, with many dips and patches of soft sand that would’ve been a pain to ride through but were avoided through his skillful routefinding.
The caravan sets off.
Into a vast sea of sand…
Flat, featureless desert for days.
- Lunchtime was always eagerly awaited by everyone hours before we got there. We’d arrive around noon or 12:30 PM in a random spot where a couple of small tents had already been set up to provide shelter from sun, sand and wind. Unfortunately, the tents were way too small for such a large group – an oversight on the part of the organizers that quickly became evident but that we could do little about. Late-comers invariably ended up having to cram around the edges of the exhausted pack, all lying tightly together in the sand like a bunch randomly shuffled sardines. Fresh fruits and a stale bagel plus a couple of bottles of water was the standard fare for lunch, which most people wolfed down immediately before zonking out and sleeping for the next hour or so.
In our lunchtime tent.
Every inch of shade is taken up.
Wind-blown sand and dust is everywhere. After a few minutes of napping we are covered all over.
On rare occasions we didn’t have a tent at lunchtime. The bedouins simply create their own sunshade – with a stick and a piece of sheep skin.
- In the afternoons we had another two to three hours to ride the camel. It was around 2 pm by now, the hottest time of the day, but we usually felt more elated because the bulk of the riding was behind us.
- Camp was reached by around 5:30 or 6:00 PM, depending on the site the organizers had chosen. We never had any influence on where we’d stay or ride, all we had to do is follow the main leader and then find our group camp at night, which were marked by flags with the number of our group on it. The groups were spread out a couple hundred metres from each other, i.e. still within walking distance but far apart enough to guarantee a sense of togetherness and belonging in each group.
Finally at camp and done for the day!
- The sense of relief when we arrived in camp was always palpable, the mood upbeat. Another hard day of riding done! Now all that was left was setting up our tent, eating dinner, and then sitting around the camp fire to relax and recount the day’s adventures before stumbling to bed.
Our campsites were often featureless spots in the middle of nowhere.
- Dinners were often served in personal meal boxes with a generous serving of plain rice and a bland chunk of meat, either chicken or goat, on top. No veggies, but sometimes with two dates on the side if we were lucky. Nothing to write home about but it filled our hungry tummies and we usually didn’t care much at this point. On other days, instead of fresh food we received an MRE – a meal ready to eat. Basically a military food pack that’s used by the Saudi army, courtesy of the American military. These packs are expensive (ca. US$40 a pop) and contain a ton of calories, with three full meals in each bag including a chemical meal heater (just add water), cookies, crackers, beverage powders, etc. This stuff is made to last for 10 years or more and is full of salts and artificial preservatives, so it tastes pretty awful but it did add some variety to our diet and at the very least kept us well-fed.
Dinner time. Who needs chairs, tables and cutlery?
Chicken on rice – yum!
A meal ready to eat (MRE), our not so yummy US military rations. All halal of course.
There’s a ton of stuff in each MRE pack, totalling some 4000 calories! This one included lamb jalfrezi, lentils masala, a pilot cracker, chocolate chip cookies, peanut butter, a vegetable cracker, maple oatmeal, strawberry pop-tarts, and several pouches of fruit beverage powder.
- For me personally, the evenings were the most enjoyable and relaxing times. Finally a chance to stretch our legs and give our sore muscles a rest all while sitting on the soft sand, munching on our dinner and watching the star-studded night sky above. I usually didn’t spend much time to socialize after dinner. I was just often just too tired and after half an hour of chatting would call it a night. Time to brush my teeth (2 sips from our precious water bottles), write in my diary, and then crash out like a zombie. It was always the best sleep I’ve ever had in my life!
Chilling with our bedouin guides in the evening.
REST DAYS
After every four or five days of riding we normally took a day off to give our aching bodies a break. We all counted down the days and hours until our arrival at the rest camp and the excitement and relief was always huge when we finally got there.
The set-up of the camp always had the same structure: one large tent covered with carpets and cushions around the walls, with an open side in the lee of the main wind direction. Next to the tent were the supply trucks, including one carrying all our bags and suitcases so we could access all our belongings. Meals were prepared in a mobile kitchen trailer while a big water truck came in from time to time to refill the water tanks the kitchen used for cleaning and cooking. I have no idea where that water came from (perhaps from nearby wells in the desert), but it wasn’t meant for drinking. Each group usually set up their individual tents in small clusters a few hundred metres away from the main tent – to provide some degree of privacy but also to make it easier to go to the toilet, the dunes behind us!
Finally time to take a day off and rest. With fresh ginger tea!
People spent their time very differently during these rest days. Those with energy left would walk around to explore our surroundings and take photos, while most others would typically just hang around the main tent eating dates and drinking tea. It was so easy to be lazy and just lounge around on the comfy pillows, doing nothing!
Everyone thoroughly enjoyed the opportunity to finally sit down, relax and have a chat with your friends.
Chilling on a sand dune above our camp.
The little magnetic chess board I had brought turned out to be a hit. Jesus pulled out another set, a large foldable board with big chunky pieces, which was even more popular. Lots of people wanted to play and I was so happy so many folks were joining. It was like a little escape from the desert and into the world of our minds, which was both stimulating and relaxing at the same time.
Habtoor and Jesus enjoying a game of chess.
For lunch and dinner a warm meal was served in the big tent. The standard dish was goat and rice, sometimes we had chicken, and very rarely even some fresh vegetables like lettuce, green onions and radishes. Large trays heaped with rice and big chunks of meat in the middle were brought in and placed on thin plastic sheets to avoid a mess on the carpet. Then we would all huddle around the trays in groups of 5 or 6 and dig in, scooping up the rice and tearing off the meat more or less skillfully with our right hand, as is the custom in Saudi Arabia. The meals were prepared in the kitchen trailer by a crew of Bangladeshi and Indian guys, who worked tirelessly behind the scenes to keep us well fed. Ronald and Rex, the two Phillippinos who were part of the catering service, did an amazing job at looking after us. There was always sweet black tea and Saudi coffee to drink, boxes of dates, apricots and nuts to nibble on, and sometimes apples and oranges to keep us refreshed.
Goat and rice, our favourite dish by the end of the trip…
Breakfast decadence: tea, pita bread, honey, halwa, tuna and an egg.
An informal “meeting” was usually held on rest days to keep us informed about our progress and also about any issues that were inevitably popping up over time: camels were acting up, some people were too slow, some too fast, some not wearing the blue team jackets we’d been given, too much garbage was left behind in the desert, etc … The dynamics of these meetings was interesting to say the least and provided some insight into different cultural norms. While most Saudis would quietly listen and accept what we were told, knowing full well that there wasn’t much we could do to influence the outcome anyway, us westerners often tried to engage in constructive feedback, sometimes questioning why certain decisions were made. More often than not we were left baffled by the stern and commanding tone of the meetings, which felt a bit like you were part of a military drill. But such was the nature of the entire caravan – we were soldiers under the command of a hierarchical leadership whose one and only goal was to get us through the Empty Quarter safely and on time. The strict approach was perhaps a necessity, a way to guarantee survival in the desert and success of a big, logistically complex undertaking.
Party time with the General at night!
CHALLENGES
The Rakayib Camel Caravan was an enormously rewarding experience. Undoubtedly this was in part because of the many challenges we faced and overcame successfully, individually and together as a team. Water shortages, injuries from falls, and prolonged periods of butt and back pain immediately come to mind.
For me personally, probably the biggest challenge was trying to survive six to eight hours of wobbling around on a camel and the persistent pain in my buttocks that came with it. The padding for the saddles that we were given at the beginning was woefully inadequate, so almost all of us had to resort to other methods of making our behinds more comfortable on the camel. After the first two days I started using my air mattress that I used for sleeping at night, simply by wrapping it around the saddle and sticking the ends into the side pouches. It worked like a charm, my sitting comfort had just improved at least 10 fold. Unfortunately, my mattress broke after a few days. The constant shaking around had created an air leak, leaving me with neither saddle pillow nor a sleeping pad for the night. I now had to use my sleeping bag draped over my saddle, a method used by many other people. Not particularly comfortable, but better than nothing.
No, this is a challenge I wasn’t willing to take on! Only true bedouins can master these acrobatics.
The morning rides were the toughest. Four to five hours of non-stop riding, with rare breaks where we’d stop for a minute or two to briefly let the camels munch on any shrubs we sometimes came across. At peak times we did 30 km in the morning, which proved a bit much to be honest. I wish we’d broken it up into 2 or 3 hours stretches at a time – 5 hours on a camel in one go was just too much. To alleviate our aching muscles and pain in the buttocks, some of us decided to get off and walk for short stretches (except crazy Ali, the Saudi long-distance hiker in my group who ended up walking ALL of it, every day!!). Walking at an average speed of 5-6 km/h wasn’t easy, however, especially with soft sand on the ground or the strong head winds we often experienced. It took significantly more energy and water to walk than to ride, so it was a case of balancing too much butt pain versus tired legs and feet…
Sometimes it’s better to walk!
Falling off the camel happened to almost all of us at some point, most commonly in the first week when we were still learning how to control our camels. I fell off three times in the first few days, thankfully getting away with only a few bruises but no serious consequences. Other people weren’t so lucky: there were plenty of cases involving severe back pain, pulled muscles, and even broken ribs and collar bones. Some people like Musa who had bad pain in his ribs managed to tough it out, suffering with their injuries until the end of the caravan. Others had no choice but to drop out and go home to get medical treatment. We had a doctor and a nurse following us in a Land Cruiser ambulance all the time, but there was obviously not much they could do about broken bones etc. A few people like Alex and Joe also got sick during the trip and came down with the cold or the flu, which made riding a camel in the heat infinitely harder for them. Respect to all of them for toughing it out till the end!
A challenge unique to the sand desert was dealing with sandstorms and duststorms on several occasions, especially towards the end. Strong northerly winds coming straight at us would sand blast our faces, darken the sky, and reduce visibility to 100 m or less. The whole landscape turned into a brown soup with ground and sky looking the same. There was no way to keep the fine dust out of your eyes and nose and mouth, even with head scarf and sunglasses on. It was also very difficult to talk at these times, not only because you didn’t want to open your mouth to let in the sand, but because your voice was muffled by the howling wind. Setting up camp in a storm was particularly difficult. We had to weigh down our tents immediately both inside and outside to prevent them from getting blown away. Not an easy task with a pop-up tent! More than once did I see one rolling around in the wind, and poor Ahmad even lost his tent entirely including his sleeping bag that was inside.
A sandstorm engulfs the caravan.
We had to use our saddle to weigh down our tent on the outside.
One of the biggest problems during the entire caravan came during the second week when, suddenly, the amount of water we received was reduced – from about 6 litres a day to 3 litres, which is obviously not enough when you’re sweating in the sun riding a camel in the desert all day. The little 300 ml water bottles we received were our most precious cargo. Every time some bottles were handed out at rest stops people starting swarming the place like a bunch of crazed animals. Unfortunately, the way the bottles were distributed was often “first come first served”, leaving late comers with little or nothing. One morning my four bottles that each one of us had received went missing… I had left them unattended by my camel for five minutes, which was enough for them to quietly disappear… There was no time to complain, however, as the caravan was about to start moving. It was a pretty miserable morning for me that day, the prospect of having no water at all until lunchtime was daunting, enervating, and very annoying at the same time. Some of my team mates including Ali, Mustafa and Maria noticed the predicament I was in and immediately helped me out, handing me some of their own very limited water supply. I refused at first but they insisted, throwing a water bottle in my direction from their camels – I was touched. It was a beautiful gesture of selflessness and generosity at this time of hardship and suffering.
MEDIA ATTENTION
Yes, it was a bit of a circus! The caravan was accompanied by several different groups of journalists ranging from Saudi instragramers to National Geographic. Dilovan and his team for example were working as freelancers for Rakayib and the Saudi Camel Club, producing amazing short videos of our journey right on the spot in their temporary media tent in the desert. Next door in another tent, some guys working for Saudi TV stations were editing their footage. Social media experts were brought in from Riyadh, Belgium, Italy, Colombia and other places to join us for short sections of the trip. These guys were basically tasked with promoting Rakayib and Saudi Arabia as a tourist destination in the world, by way of posting cool shots and clips on Instagram, Snapchat, Twitter and their websites. And then, of course, there was Ricky – an English filmmaker on assignment for National Geographic who was following our every step throughout the trip with his massive camera of Star Trek fame.
Friendly Ricky (right) with his big camera.
With so many media people interested in our journey it was sometimes hard to find the peace and solitude of the empty desert that many of us had been looking forward to. The buzzing sound of drones hovering above us constantly followed us around and there were numerous interviews to give (I counted at least 18 just for myself!). Most interviews were short and informal, for example during lunchbreaks or when we arrived at camp in the evening. There was also a 20 minute interview with Ricky for National Geographic where we were asked more in-depth questions, like what our motivation was to join the caravan and how we felt about our experience, both good and bad.
Overall, I found the constant media attention mildly annoying, but accepted it as part of the deal. After all, we all got to have this amazing experience for free and this was just the price to pay.
DESERT SIGHTS
Despite what the name implies, the Empty Quarter isn’t really empty of course. There are water wells, oases, wadis, ephemeral lakes, ancient historical sites, geological points of interest, bedouin camps, and much more. In the four weeks that we travelled through the desert saw quite a few of these sights. One big exception were the lakes: photos of spectacular palm-fringed desert lakes were shown on Rakayib’s website but this was a bit misleading as in the end we didn’t see anything even remotely close.
One of the highlights for me was when we reached the first water well about 5 days into our journey. This was Al Jalaba (Qulma Jalab), a well that had apparently been drilled by an oil company a long time ago, but instead of oil they found water. What a moment of exhilaration it was when I first saw the white stream of water in the middle of the sand dunes!! We had been wobbling around on our camels in the hot sun for days and by now my face was caked with a mixture of sweat, sunscreen and sand and my clothes, hair and body were full of dust. Needless to say, the thought of taking a shower was just heaven. The yellow well head in the middle of the sand dunes had water gushing out of a large hose on one side and spraying in all directions from a smaller pipe on the other. Not just normal ground water, this was hot geothermal water with a temperature of at least 40 degrees C! Our rest camp was set up in a wind-sheltered dip only 2 km away from well, so almost all of us took this unique opportunity to take a shower and rinse off layers of dirt. It was pure joy to stand there in the middle of the desert, just in my underwear, letting the constant stream of warm water envelop my skin.
Arrival at the Al Jalaba water well. It was like a big party, with camels and riders all going crazy!
There’s nothing more refreshing than taking a shower in the middle of the desert after days of sweating on a camel!
On day 15 we reached Al Hodeidah, a meteorite impact structure where we set up camp nearby. Contrary to what most of us were expecting, this was not a place where you could actually find meteorites, but merely what was left over from when a sizeable chunk of rock from outer space hit the desert a long time ago. The initial impact created a small crater and whirled up pieces of the underlying bedrock, but much of this had disappeared under the ever shifting dunes of sand that obliterate everything in their path over time. While there wasn’t much to look at, it was still a nice change from the monotony of the desert we were so used to by now. There were small piles of crumbly white sandstone at the edge of a dip, flanked by several large sand dunes. In between, bits of black rock could be found: this was partially molten sandstone that had been “burnt” by the intense heat and pressure of the meteorite impact. Some of us went for a stroll, scouring the outcrops for anything metallic, but nobody could find anything. Nobody except Ronald, that is! Ronald, the friendly Filipino from the catering staff, actually found a tiny pea-sized sphere with metallic lustre and unusually heavy for its size – quite possibly a piece of the original meteorite. The main body of the meteorite apparently weighs more than two tons and is on display in a museum in the capital Riyadh.
This is the site of a meteorite impact? Yep.
For most of us, the beautiful sand dunes around the meteorite site were far more attractive. We climbed the soft slope of the biggest one and sat on the razor-sharp crest, looking out into a sea of sand and taking in the soft hues of yellow, orange and red around us. A magical place to watch the sunset, unimpeded by the lights and sounds of civilization. The perfect place to meditate and focus on your thoughts.
Sebastian enjoys a quiet moment among the imposing sand dunes at Al Hodeidah.
As barren and hostile as the desert appeared at first glance, upon closer inspection there was life to be found. It was very rare that we saw any animals, but over time you’d eventually come across something. A bird, a butterfly, a snake – most too fleeting and elusive to be captured on camera. There were a few interesting critters, however, I did manage to take a picture of.
This interesting desert lizard was flitting across the sand and stopped right in front of my camel.
What a fascinating creature. Perfect camouflage colours allow it to blend in with the sand.
A camel spider came out at night.
And an interesting beetle, about 5 cm in length.
My favourite place of the whole trip was a small oasis called Ash Shalfa. Situated about 170 km south of Yabreen, this is where we saw the first buildings after 16 days of travelling through nothing but empty, uninhabited desert. I remember when people from our caravan first sighted the dozen or so simple stone buildings and small stand of trees from a distance. Everybody got excited, people started yelling and singing for joy, and then the whole caravan began to race towards this little oasis. For us riders, it was a mixture of happiness, curiosity and relief of having finished another hard day of travelling. For the camels, it was the anticipation of finally getting to drink again – they could probably smell the water from a distance!
The first trees in weeks at Ash Shalfa.
Source of life: water in abundance at Ash Shalfa’s well.
A handful of simple stone buildings, half of them dilapidated, a small stand of trees, and a water well – that’s all there is in Ash Shalfa. Anywhere else in the world this place wouldn’t even deserve a mention, but here in the middle of nowhere it was everything. Water, vegetation, even birds: life in an otherwise barren and forbidding place. And, even more surprisingly: a human being! Yes, there is one lonely soul who is actually living here, all by himself and all alone. A Sudanese man by the name of Hamed al Hamed who was tasked to look after the place by its Saudi owner. We met him in our camp that was set up a kilometer away from the oasis (to prevent our camels from munching up the precious vegetation in the oasis I believe). Al Hamed’s story was incredible. Apparently until a few years ago this place had been permanently inhabited by a large family who would trade with Bedouins from the surrounding areas, holding regular market days in their little oasis. Then, two years ago, a fight broke out between the oasis dwellers and a local tribe. The owner of the family was shot and had to be taken to hospital in the nearest town where he lost his arm as a result of his injury. He never returned and soon after the fight the rest of the family left as well. With the oasis now completely abandoned, Al Hamed was sent to look after the well and the empty buildings. He had come from Sudan, one of the poorest countries in the world, to Saudi Arabia in order to eke out a living, sending back the little he made to his wife and kids in Sudan. But he was here all alone, without electricity, without cell phone service, without internet. Every few months someone would come and bring him food and supplies, and this was the only contact he had with the outside world. When we arrived at Ash Shalfa, he hadn’t seen another human being in more than two months! Apparently he had not known that we’d be coming through and was completely overwhelmed when he saw and heard our group – almost a hundred riders on their camels plus all the support vehicles – approaching on the horizon. According to his own words he was literally left speechless and could not talk for the first couple of hours after our arrival. When he finally shook off his bewilderment, he started to sing. An impromptu ode to the Rakayib Camel Caravan for passing through his oasis, an outpouring of joy and happiness to be around human beings again, and a deep sense of sadness about our impending departure. It was both a reflection of the empty loneliness he has to contend with every day, and also an expression of his gratitude to Allah for sending people across his path. This was perhaps the most emotional and memorable experience I had during the whole journey, meeting such a beautiful human being – a kind, humble and deeply faithful man – in the middle of the Empty Quarter. Truly an oasis of life in a desolate place.
Hamed al Hamed in his simple abode at Ash Shalfa.
The small mosque of Ash Shalfa is slowly being reclaimed by the sand.