16 Feb 2019: Eating the Sahara

We woke up in the middle of a massive Saharan sand storm, with gusts of wind blowing dust into the smallest opening. The sky was coloured in an orange hue of sand that totally obliterated the sun. I soon learnt to look downwind before opening my eyes. My glasses were no protection, the sand still made sandpaper of my eyeballs. Opening anything else was nearly impossible. The plan was to have a long-overdue laundry day, but it would have resulted in some very muddy clothing ending up over the border in Algeria.

Sahara Desert Camp, M'hamid, Morocco

Mohammed was very wise and stayed in bed to lunch time. I enclosed myself in the dining tent and utilised the opportunity to edit photos and catch up on my blog. Lunch reminded me of the soldier complaining to his sergeant-major about sand in his food. The sergeant-major told the soldier to stop complaining as he was in uniform to die for his country. The soldier answered wryly that he was quite willing to die for his country, but eating his country was not in his contract...

The Vagrant Twitcher in Sahara