We make our way when we have the moon.  This desert sun is always unbearable.  Before the heat gets too excruciating, we walk for 2 – 4 hours in this grueling desert.  There is nothing physically pleasurable about it.  Yet the beauty is like the gorge of the Grand Canyon.  Instead of waiting for a sounding echo, we tend to Kensington, who demands our every attention.  At night we hardly sleep from the heat and just hope our body revives before we have to tend to Kensington again.  He is run down, we are run down.  In hindsight, having Mahout was our godsend.  Mahout was not just our ‘guide’, he had enthusiasm, spirit and energy that rubbed off on us.  To not be met with hostility, Mahout knew when it was time he return to his village.  Every tribesperson, every villager, every Bedu, has their own mental boundary.  Without a ‘guide’, we are slower, and our progress is slow. By ‘guide’, I also mean ‘protector’.

As we walk on Day 8, straight ahead, we see a village. Just before the village, we are met by Mohammed who is our newest ‘guide’.  We see in the distance stone houses that rise from the desert landscape.  Surrounding the flat roof houses are camels and goats.  The women and the men offer us camel’s milk, bread and tea.  Their hospitality was indeed welcomed.

Read more on Explorer Mikael Strandberg's blog

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