The following morning we boarded a jeep and left still-sleepy Jaisalmer for our safari trip. Traveling at a decent speed on the straight, smooth roads, we passed by road signs in Hindi, camels, the occasional hut, and some sheep. Sometimes the jeep had to brake for the sheep & goats which decided to occupy the road. As colors began to fill the morning sky, we got out and took a few photos. The camels and camel drivers were already waiting for us, warmly greeting us in good English. As one of the camel drivers prepared us breakfast of toast & homemade jam, boiled eggs, and fruit, an elderly shepherd wearing a bright orange turban and white kurta (long loose-fitting button shirt and loose pygama-like pants) joined us. In his hand was a decorative staff. A perfect photo opportunity, I asked the man through a camel guide if I could take his photo. Upon being told by my friend that he was so handsome, his dark skin around wrinkled in a smile. Seeing us apply sunscreen, he asked if he could borrow some. Working some of the white lotion through his mustache, the shepherd expertly encouraged a curl to appear. Still having quite a bit of sunscreen left, he paused for a moment and then rubbed the lotion all over his face and over his eyes. Our turbaned friend was then ready for his photo-op. Shortly thereafter, a brother and sister emerged onto the sandy scene. He was wearing a crotched Muslim cap and she wore a long skirt, short top embroidered with metallic thread, and an apron-like garment. On her head was a patterned veil. Covering her upper and forearms were wide silver bracelets, complemented by an equally chunky silver necklace. In a nostril was a large gold disk, matched by earrings of the same size.
With our camels all lo
aded up with food & water provisions for people and grasses for the camels, we mounted our camels. Very quickly I recalled the stretching sensation between my thighs that I had experienced when riding camels previously in the Sahara Desert both in
Douz (Tunisia) and
Timbuktu (Mali). This trek was going to be longer, so I had better get used to riding a wide animal. As the rider and camel acclimated to each other, the camel drivers handed us the reins. Sometimes my camel wanted to veer from the caravan to sample some leaves of a tree, but otherwise the camels typically followed each other quite well. Once in a while we took a stretching and water break. For lunch we lazed under the shade of a tree as we ate our freshly-made chappati bread and rice. Small birds chirped away and sometimes came quite close to us, accompanying the quietly blowing breeze with their sweet song. With the hottest part of the day gone and everyone refreshed from a catnap, we once again mounted our camels, holding on as the creature awkwardly transitioned from a kneeling to a standing position. With a forward & backward rocking motion, our camels moved onward, navigating around tall plants that reminded me of milkweed, prickly bushes, and a few scrubby trees. Sometimes we would spot a flock of sheep or goats, whose presence was made known in advance by the tinkling of bells around their necks. Many of these goats had long, floppy ears, horns, and long fur. Occasionally we would spot other animals including peacocks, quails, female camels, antelope, and large flying birds. One of my friends spotted an intact camel skeleton and loaded its skull into a burlap bag tied onto her camel. No doubt that skull would provide plenty of conversations
to come.
The sun now low, we stopped for the evening on a wide band of golden sand. Nearly devoid of any plant life, its rippled dunes reminded me of Tunisia, but on a much smaller scale. While we waited for our meal to be prepared, we walked on the soft dunes in the warm late-afternoon light. Holes of rather small sizes were spotted everywhere, created by lizards, mice, and snakes. Still smaller holes were dug by the dung beetle. Slithering tracks and patterned 6-leg marks gave clue to the artists. The sound of peacocks and peahens added to the musical composition of camels, birds, and the sheep/goat bells. A short distance away we saw another small caravan of tourists, the only other group we saw. Along one dune I spotted some tiny white seashells. What were they doing there? How old were they? The shells didn’t equal my finds of shaped flint, petrified shells, red & yellow coral, and ostrich shell pieces from the Sahara Desert, but they were a nice memento anyways.
Having spotted the first evening stars, we gathered around the campfire and checked on the progress of our supper. The rice and veggies were cooking, chai (sweet tea) served, and our always-happy camel driver was working flour into bottled water. We all tried our hand at making chappatis, but ours never looked as thin, flat and round as his. With plenty of food to go around, we shared our bounty with a shepherd boy who joined us for a while. The silence of the desert was broken only by t
he camel drivers’ cell phones, complaints by the camels, and our conversations around the fire. As the night wore on, the clouds left the sky and the stars became visible. During the night I heard the chewing of a nearby camel getting louder. It had managed to drag the weighted bag around its neck towards the large bag of feed near me, proceeding to eat a large portion of food reserved for the following day. If a camel could belch, he sure should have.
See more photos of our camel safari on Flickr
