Great expanses of desolation.
Vast fields of emptiness and pure loneliness.
Overwhelming isolation.
An abundance of nothingness.
It's a challenge to try to sit and write about great experience, camping in the sands of the Sahara Desert. How does one describe the desert that looks like it lacks life while at the same times is one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen on Earth?
While it is so desolate, there is life forcing its way through the rock and sand.
When one looks close at the empty fields, you see the footprints of foxes and snakes that call this place home.
When moving through a lonely valley, you can suddenly come across a settle of the Tuareg people, who defiantly hold on to their nomadic culture and use the desert to protect them from the ever intrusive modern world.
What certainly does overwhelm you is the the fact that you become so small in comparison to it all. There are few other places in the world where you can feel so small and so far away from everything that you know. The Sahara is such a place.
Before going diving into the details of the trip, I'll start from the beginning, from our planning stages. Perhaps this will be useful for anyone else who reads this and hopes to make the trip themselves, someday.
Carolina and I didn't go on this trip alone, far from it. Since so many new teachers where hired this year to work at the American School, there were plenty of us eager to go to the desert. Caro and I have become friends with some of the teachers, and together we decided to plan the trip for mid-November.
So our small party consisted of Carolina and myself; Ernie and BJ Diller; and Mike and Lenore Baldwin with their daughter Katyann.
Though it is still a growing industry, desert tourism is huge in Libya. Libya holds more of the Sahara desert within its borders than any other Saharan nation, and there are many desert guides and touring agencies that can arrange to take you out there to explore it all.
We found some groups online, and where given tips by some of the other teachers here that had traveled out to the desert already. We made contact with one guide, whose name I've forgotten, but I won't forget the day we did meet him.
Since in Libya, there are no street addresses, for many rumored reasons, it is difficult for two strangers to arrange a meeting unless at a very well known landmark. In our neighborhood of Janzour, that landmark is the Dubai Market. Luckily, Mike and Lenore live right by it, so we decided to meet our guide there and have the meeting at the Baldwin's house.
We waited around for him but didn't see him. Of course, we didn't know what he looked like either, so that made it more difficult to spot him. Mike had been the one in contact with him, so he called him up and tried to understand his limited English, while the guide tried to understand Mikes zero Arabic and fluent English. Mike actually handed his phone to a young man sitting outside a mosque and asked him to translate. I don't know how successful that was, but eventually the man showed up, and even though we hadn't met him before, we knew immediately who he was when we saw him.
Now, Tripoli is a modern city, and Janzour is a modern suburb of that city. Though there is sand everywhere, the streets are paved and the buildings are made of brick and cement. No, the Middle East doesn't look like Agraba in Aladdin, it looks more like Tijuana or Guadalajara. But when our potential desert guide walk through the busy crowd, infront of the mosque, he alone carried with him the image of an oasis town of medieval Islam.
Adburahman ( I just remembered his name) wore a green velvet robe that flowed through the air as he walked. He walked at a slower pace than most other people on the street, either because he was uncomfortable in the city, or because he was never in a rush, anywhere. He was calm and confident and approached us with a kindly. His hair was short and curly, his skin dark, but his eyes as bright as his smile. Mike, Ernie and I introduced ourselves and escorted back to the house.
He arrived an hour late, and the rush of people infront of the mosque was there in response to the call to prayer. So, Abdurahman let us know that we had little time to talk because he need to go pray.
We told him that we could wait, that he could go to mosque and that we could meet afterward.
He said that he had somewhere else to be after, so our time was limited.
That annoyed us some, because, he had initially set the meeting for 11am, then called that same morning to reschedule for 1pm. He showed up at around 2pm, just in time for prayer.
We had some drinks and snacks at sat and talked. He told us about a potential itinerary for the trip, and we asked questions about supplies, details about the trip, and the costs. Unfortunately, he couldn't really answer any of our questions. When we asked about an estimate price, he refused to give us one. We ended the meeting when he had to go to mosque, and we said we would keep in contact.
When he left, we all looked at each other with doubt. Though he seemed like the man you would want to be with in the desert, there was just too much he couldn't tell us for us to even feel excited about the trip.
Our search for a desert guide continued.
About another week passed by before we made anymore progress on planning for our trip. With our November break approaching, we were eager to finalize our plans.
I went back online to search for local guides. I emailed a few people, and the replies were mostly inconsistent. Finally, I got a reply from the company, Badran Tours. Abdoul Awidat emailed me a complete itinerary and final cost of the trip for the days we requested. He suggested a meeting and we went from there.
We set up a meeting, again at Mikes house, and Abdoul was right on time. I went out to meet him, and called him on the phone. It was classic, I was on the phone talking to him, he was describing where he was, and we both turned to each other at the same moment, and smiled. We hung up our phones and shook hands.
If Abdurahman stood out for his dress and demeanor, Abdul stood out for his sheer size. Definatly the tallest Libyan I've seen, he was a few heads taller than me. He walked and talked like a gentle giant, you felt at ease with him. He was very soft spoken, but very sharp, spoke good English, and knew the answers to our questions before we even asked.
We sat in Mike and Lenore's living room when we talked about the trip. On a map of Libya, he traced the journey we would take.
From Tripoli, we would fly to the desert town of Sebha, known as Libya's gateway to the Sahara. Most desert journeys start and end here, and so would ours.
From there, we would meet his brother, Ibrahim, who would be our guide. We would spend the first night there, just outside of town, at a camp, which he described as also having a zoo. I'll describe that later.
From there, we would drive to the Akakus region, camp a few nights there, then make our way back, spending a couple of nights in the actual sand dunes.
He told us what else we needed to bring, the exact cost, and how to get our plane tickets.
We thanked him and agreed to have another meeting closer to the date of the trip.
When he left, we all looked at each other, and we knew, we had found our guy.
Vast fields of emptiness and pure loneliness.
Overwhelming isolation.
An abundance of nothingness.
It's a challenge to try to sit and write about great experience, camping in the sands of the Sahara Desert. How does one describe the desert that looks like it lacks life while at the same times is one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen on Earth?
While it is so desolate, there is life forcing its way through the rock and sand.
When one looks close at the empty fields, you see the footprints of foxes and snakes that call this place home.
When moving through a lonely valley, you can suddenly come across a settle of the Tuareg people, who defiantly hold on to their nomadic culture and use the desert to protect them from the ever intrusive modern world.
What certainly does overwhelm you is the the fact that you become so small in comparison to it all. There are few other places in the world where you can feel so small and so far away from everything that you know. The Sahara is such a place.
Before going diving into the details of the trip, I'll start from the beginning, from our planning stages. Perhaps this will be useful for anyone else who reads this and hopes to make the trip themselves, someday.
Carolina and I didn't go on this trip alone, far from it. Since so many new teachers where hired this year to work at the American School, there were plenty of us eager to go to the desert. Caro and I have become friends with some of the teachers, and together we decided to plan the trip for mid-November.
So our small party consisted of Carolina and myself; Ernie and BJ Diller; and Mike and Lenore Baldwin with their daughter Katyann.
Though it is still a growing industry, desert tourism is huge in Libya. Libya holds more of the Sahara desert within its borders than any other Saharan nation, and there are many desert guides and touring agencies that can arrange to take you out there to explore it all.
We found some groups online, and where given tips by some of the other teachers here that had traveled out to the desert already. We made contact with one guide, whose name I've forgotten, but I won't forget the day we did meet him.
Since in Libya, there are no street addresses, for many rumored reasons, it is difficult for two strangers to arrange a meeting unless at a very well known landmark. In our neighborhood of Janzour, that landmark is the Dubai Market. Luckily, Mike and Lenore live right by it, so we decided to meet our guide there and have the meeting at the Baldwin's house.
We waited around for him but didn't see him. Of course, we didn't know what he looked like either, so that made it more difficult to spot him. Mike had been the one in contact with him, so he called him up and tried to understand his limited English, while the guide tried to understand Mikes zero Arabic and fluent English. Mike actually handed his phone to a young man sitting outside a mosque and asked him to translate. I don't know how successful that was, but eventually the man showed up, and even though we hadn't met him before, we knew immediately who he was when we saw him.
Now, Tripoli is a modern city, and Janzour is a modern suburb of that city. Though there is sand everywhere, the streets are paved and the buildings are made of brick and cement. No, the Middle East doesn't look like Agraba in Aladdin, it looks more like Tijuana or Guadalajara. But when our potential desert guide walk through the busy crowd, infront of the mosque, he alone carried with him the image of an oasis town of medieval Islam.
Adburahman ( I just remembered his name) wore a green velvet robe that flowed through the air as he walked. He walked at a slower pace than most other people on the street, either because he was uncomfortable in the city, or because he was never in a rush, anywhere. He was calm and confident and approached us with a kindly. His hair was short and curly, his skin dark, but his eyes as bright as his smile. Mike, Ernie and I introduced ourselves and escorted back to the house.
He arrived an hour late, and the rush of people infront of the mosque was there in response to the call to prayer. So, Abdurahman let us know that we had little time to talk because he need to go pray.
We told him that we could wait, that he could go to mosque and that we could meet afterward.
He said that he had somewhere else to be after, so our time was limited.
That annoyed us some, because, he had initially set the meeting for 11am, then called that same morning to reschedule for 1pm. He showed up at around 2pm, just in time for prayer.
We had some drinks and snacks at sat and talked. He told us about a potential itinerary for the trip, and we asked questions about supplies, details about the trip, and the costs. Unfortunately, he couldn't really answer any of our questions. When we asked about an estimate price, he refused to give us one. We ended the meeting when he had to go to mosque, and we said we would keep in contact.
When he left, we all looked at each other with doubt. Though he seemed like the man you would want to be with in the desert, there was just too much he couldn't tell us for us to even feel excited about the trip.
Our search for a desert guide continued.
About another week passed by before we made anymore progress on planning for our trip. With our November break approaching, we were eager to finalize our plans.
I went back online to search for local guides. I emailed a few people, and the replies were mostly inconsistent. Finally, I got a reply from the company, Badran Tours. Abdoul Awidat emailed me a complete itinerary and final cost of the trip for the days we requested. He suggested a meeting and we went from there.
We set up a meeting, again at Mikes house, and Abdoul was right on time. I went out to meet him, and called him on the phone. It was classic, I was on the phone talking to him, he was describing where he was, and we both turned to each other at the same moment, and smiled. We hung up our phones and shook hands.
If Abdurahman stood out for his dress and demeanor, Abdul stood out for his sheer size. Definatly the tallest Libyan I've seen, he was a few heads taller than me. He walked and talked like a gentle giant, you felt at ease with him. He was very soft spoken, but very sharp, spoke good English, and knew the answers to our questions before we even asked.
We sat in Mike and Lenore's living room when we talked about the trip. On a map of Libya, he traced the journey we would take.
From Tripoli, we would fly to the desert town of Sebha, known as Libya's gateway to the Sahara. Most desert journeys start and end here, and so would ours.
From there, we would meet his brother, Ibrahim, who would be our guide. We would spend the first night there, just outside of town, at a camp, which he described as also having a zoo. I'll describe that later.
From there, we would drive to the Akakus region, camp a few nights there, then make our way back, spending a couple of nights in the actual sand dunes.
He told us what else we needed to bring, the exact cost, and how to get our plane tickets.
We thanked him and agreed to have another meeting closer to the date of the trip.
When he left, we all looked at each other, and we knew, we had found our guy.
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