Morning Breaks in Hassi Labied: Sunrise Camel Trek to the Dunes

HASSI LABIED, MOROCCO -- April 10, 2006

We meet our guide the next morning at 5:15 AM outside the kasbah. Two camels are sitting pretty just inside the fence in the courtyard. He points to the tall pile of blankets and padding headed upon their backs, and we carefully hoist ourselves into the "saddle." On command, each camel rises first with its back legs and then with its front, pitching us high in the air as we grip tightly to the handholds to stabilize ourselves. As quickly as that, we head out immediately into the dark towards the dunes, chasing the dawn.

I can't get over the sensation of riding camelback. It is similar to a horse, with a rocking motion that keeps your torso and upper body forever creating a rhythm of front-to-back motion. But the camel's back is much higher from the ground, and he seems to waddle or sway slightly from side to side. It's enjoyable enough for a short journey, but I'm glad we're not caravaning to Algeria.

We approach the first of the dunes. The guide walks ahead of us, ahead of the camels. He walks barefoot through the sand, with only his rope and the sound of his voice to keep the camels in step. A white turba encircles his head, and the light blue jellabah he wears wavers in the steady morning breeze. We bear down the side of a dune, and I grip tightly to the holds to keep myself arighted on the camel's back. We trek for nearly 30 minutes into the dunes, and then dismount to begin our ascent on foot to the top of another dune.

We scramble behind our guide, whose steps -- both pace and placement -- are evidence that he is well acquainted with these dunes. Our feet disappear in the thick sand as if it were puddles of nutmeg swallowing our ankles whole.

We spend the next 30 minutes on the cusp of the dune, watching as the sun gradually works its way above the horizon and filters over the wind-shaped dunes, casting deep shadows in the placs the sun won't reach. I stand facing the sun, my arms spread wide open towards the sun, a cool breeze washing over my body. It is a perfect moment. I feel fortunate to be standing here in this place, at this time, living this experience.

Suddenly my bubble of euphoria is burst by the throaty calls of a few young tourists who have settled with their caravan on the adjacent dune. I can tell by their accent (or lack thereof) that they are American. They seem so oblivious to the calmness that those who have trekked to the dunes wish to experience. For the first time since I began my travels, I shrink at being American.

We wait for the barbarians to depart, and then saunter back to our camel. I slide down the side of the sand dune, using my rear end as my boogey board. It is hilarious fun. By the time I reach the camels, I am a mess of sand. My shoes feel filled with lead, I am carting so much sand inside them! Too soon we are back at the kasbah, dismounting our camels for the second and final time. But oh, the experience... I hope I'll ride a camel again before leaving Morocco!

~Melanie