SAHARA DESERT

Sahara Desert

Our trip today has a touch of One Thousand and One Nights . Just look around and you can almost hear Scheherazade telling stories of flying carpets, magic lamps and Aladdin's adventures under the starry sky. And it's no wonder, we're in the heart of the magnificent Sahara Desert. Each dune seems to hold an ancient secret waiting to be discovered. It's hard not to get carried away!

The arrival in this dreamlike setting begins with the High Atlas Mountains displaying their exuberant silhouette, as giants are touching the sky covered with their white mantle of snow, a surreal contrast with the copper of the sunset and the ochre of the desert.

The landscape becomes even more magical when a Berber is waiting for us. Dressed in the essence of his ancestors' elegance, his long, flowing blue tunic dances with the rhythm of the wind. On his head, the cheche (or turban). It is synonymous with protection, identity and wisdom wrapped in meters of fabric. Wrapped in an almost choreographed technique, he covers his face when necessary, revealing only his deep-set eyes.

Our first stop was a rare encounter with the essence of life in harmony with the land. A true immersion into the lives of a people who live, with simplicity and dignity, one of the most fascinating and resilient forms of existence in Morocco. They are nomads who live in caves dug into the rocks, adapting their routine to the rhythms of nature. Many make a living from raising goats and sheep, and migrate according to the seasons, always in search of pasture and water for their flocks. Being there, being welcomed by them and sharing a hot tea in such an austere yet welcoming setting was a fascinating experience.

Time to explore the sands of the Sahara! It immediately became clear that walking on them is not exactly something for beginners. With an ultra-fine consistency, resembling golden talcum powder, they swallow your feet as if they wanted to play with your sense of balance. For us, urban creatures accustomed to the firm ground of asphalt, each step seemed like a marathon in slow motion. It was as if the desert was saying: “Welcome, now let’s see what you’re made of!” The walk lasted approximately an hour. The young man who led us to our tent spoke only Arabic. Communication was then made through gestures or the subtlety of a smile – simple, silent, but surprisingly sufficient. It was an immersion in stillness as we contemplated the golden sentinels of that place. The imposing and mesmerizing dunes rose before us like living sculptures shaped by the wind.

If the entire scene was enough to leave anyone in awe, for me, the highlight of this journey was having two camels by my side. There was something magical about their presence, I confess. I was completely enchanted. I imagined that in their serene gazes, they held memories of ancient routes, distant caravans under the Arabian Nights. Their long eyelashes defy the fury of the wind and their bodies sculpted to resist the impossible. They were poetry in motion gliding across the sand.

In the vastness of the Sahara, where time slows down, our soul surrenders. Our gaze is lost in the immense infinity. Until our luxurious tent awaits us. We are welcomed with all the honors of the house, typical instrumental music and mint tea. After the long day, a short rest to recharge our batteries before enjoying a typical dinner filled with much festivity and traditional food. A true celebration of the senses! The tagine was steaming before us, slowly cooked in the classic clay pot with a conical lid. Inside, pieces of lamb (or chicken), colorful vegetables and a symphony of spices fused together, spreading an incomparable aroma that perfumed the cold night air.

On the side, a couscous with a light and delicate seasoning accompanied a majestic mechoui — a whole lamb slowly roasted on a spit, or buried under the hot sand, as is the tradition of the Sahara. And to complete the feast, rghaif (or msemmen ), flaky and fried breads, served still warm, ready to dip into the broth or to be savored with dates and fresh fruit. As always at these times, I adapt to the vegan options.

After the dazzling banquet worthy of the gods, we were about to return to our tent when we were warned: that night, a sandstorm was approaching. For safety reasons, we were not going out until dawn. Imagine! I felt uneasy... how could I accept that such a rare and powerful phenomenon would happen right there, in front of me, and I would have to sleep?

But fatigue got the better of me. I ended up falling asleep, lulled by the wind. To my delight, at dawn, the desert whispered traces of the storm. I was graced with the last traces of the spectacle – the sky still cloudy, the light filtered in shades of gold and copper, and the dunes redrawn, as if an invisible artist had passed through during the night.

After a delicious breakfast, it was time to break camp. Waiting for us were our Berber guide, with his enigmatic gaze, and his adorable camels, ready for another journey across the eternal sands.

On the way back, each step was a silent farewell. The wind blew softly, as if whispering “see you soon.” Before us, once again, that sublime, vast horizon worthy of reverence opened up.

Suddenly, the gentle melancholy that enveloped me was abruptly interrupted by an unusual scene. I swear I felt like I had been catapulted into the cartoon Wacky Races , complete with Dick Dastardly and everything! The desert was taken over by dozens of tiny, square cars — the iconic Renault 4L.

It was the beginning of a surprising journey: a charity and humanitarian rally called the 4L Trophy . Aimed at European university students (mostly French), the challenge consists of crossing Morocco in pairs aboard these cute little cars. Each team carries 50 kilos of school supplies and humanitarian aid for vulnerable children.

The route is a true adventure: it starts in France, crosses Spain and continues to the heart of the Moroccan Sahara. There, participants face dunes, dirt roads and navigation challenges – without GPS, just with a compass and map, just like in the old days. A real scenario worthy of an animated script, where solidarity and adventurous spirit meet in the middle of the desert. And I was there, having the privilege of experiencing it up close.

Finally, the moment has come, a farewell that was harder than I imagined: my dear camel companions. With them, I learned that even under the scorching sun, there is delicacy. They are sensitive beings, and each slow step seemed to teach about patience, presence and respect. A last caress of their rough fur. I am grateful! For the crossing. For the company. For the silent lesson that every animal, big or small, deserves to be seen with veneration. And there, between dunes and endless sky, I renewed my unconditional love for all of them.

One last look, one last breath… and the Sahara remained immense, like a secret kept in the heart of the world.