I was flying at full gallop over vast black stone desert on a white stallion named Ayyur – moon in Berber. The red dunes of Erg Chebbi rose over the horizon, and as we drew closer the minarets of Merzouga rose above the heat shimmer like a mirage. “Zir” I murmured, and the already fast strides of the stallion lengthened until the hoofbeats behind me started to fade.
This is not the opening line of a romance novel. It is, in fact, a moment that I lived through on Friday, in the life I actually live. It was also one of the most remarkable journeys of my life.
My husband and I celebrated 25 years of loving marriage this summer. We’d thought of going to Italy, but couldn’t quite settle on what or where – the possibilities seemed too endless. But I read an article about camping and riding in the Sahara and I thought of the brief and brilliant glimpse I’d gotten a few years prior. I’ve never worked with a travel agent before, but I just felt overwhelmed by trying to find the thing I wanted that would be safe. (I was originally thinking of Algeria, but the terrorism warnings daunted me.) So I knew of a travel agent – specializing in adventurous crazy trips – and I reached out to her to see if she had some ideas. Jane totally came through for us! She put together a brilliant trip for us, finding some amazing options I would never have found in a month of boring-meeting Googling. (And amazingly the trip was much less expensive than when I had planned a similar one a few years ago – cooler stuff AND less $$!)
We had a great time in Rabat, but the adventure really began when we stepped out of the Jardin des Marzouga to an alley with three horses in it. We have ridden horses a few times before – but I’m not sure I’d ever galloped (at least on purpose). We’d taken a single lesson ahead of time. We packed our bike helmets and gel saddle seats (brilliant addition), but here we mounted our horses, abandoned our luggage, and started our adventure. It was tentative at first. How do I make this thing go left? Right? Faster? Slower? We tried our first gallop and the ground seemed to move very fast, very far below me. After our first lunch, a multi hour affair while our horses rested and were cared for in the heat of the desert day, there was a horse swap. I’m not sure what was up with my first horse, but it was scratched and I was give Ayyur. (My husband was taken from Ayyur and this is a great sacrifice of love that he barely complained about.)
Ayyur is an Arabian/Barb stallion, and an absolute dream. He loves to run, and to go straight and fast. He was an easy horse to ride with a fast walking pace and faster gallop. I never had to tell him to go fast or go faster – my husband behind me would say “Zir!” to his stallion and Ayyur would break into a trot (which… Adam’s horse Sultan required a lot more cajoling to go fast and had a slower walk, so it wasn’t uncommon that he’d be trying to catch up).
My friends. I have read fantasy novels all my life. I love historical fiction and fiction fiction and historical history. All these things involve horses. Much of the history of the last 3000 years horses have played critical roles. The very first chapter book I ever read was called “First To Ride” and was about the first person to tame a horse. Horses are in the Iliad (extensively). They play a role in almost every major battle, exploration, or journey. How many times have I read about horses, and riding horses, and horsemanship? But it’s all been theoretical. In America, they don’t let folks like me with little experience gallop across deserts (I’m sure for good reason). But to be on the back of a horse that loves to run, in the middle of a trackless desert (we started galloping only on soft sand where a fall was much less likely to end in tragedy). It was like seeing the sea for the first time, or actually touching snow after a lifetime spent reading about it. The power and speed and connection is unlike anything I do in my regular life. I am still not a horsey person, per se, but I get it now.
While I can and will wax rhapsodic about my mount, there were a couple other really high points of our journey. We spent 4 days with our horses and guide, Yassine. One of the lunch siesta breaks we spent under a nomad tent on a plateau between the dunes and the closed and highly monitored Algerian border. There were a number of nomad camps we passed that day – they were all very neat and orderly, but looked so hot and comfortless. I can’t help but think there are some stories there.
One of the afternoons we abandoned our guide and went with a geologist on a quest for fossils. The amount and variety of the landscapes in the Erg Chebbi is astonishing. And we were treated to seams of Ordovician, Devonian and Silurian fossils. You didn’t have too look too hard to find them. They’re being actively mined by hand with folks deep down in holes. We got to see a bunch of different kinds of fossil fields, and I hiked a small mountain.
After one brother (Hamid) finished teaching us about geology and fossils and showing us some of the incredible natural history of Morocco, he brought us to the most remarkable desert camp we’d seen: Andromeda Astro Camp. This entire camp is constructed around the stars and the need for dark skies. The meal was carefully planned around the arrival of real dark and the moonrise. All the lights were pointed down, and dimmed as we were walked by brother Moha through the constellations and stars – both the traditional western versions and some of the Amazigh legends and sky-scenes. The camp was so incredibly amazing and comfortable that Adam and I were bummed that we weren’t staying there. I would HIGHLY recommend to anyone who values quiet and dark and learning.
That night, though, we were slated to spend camping wild (instead of glamping). Hamid drove us through the dark night across trackless deserts, with the moon chasing behind us. As we got closer he started slowing down, being guided in to the spot by a blinking flashlight wielded by Yassine, our guide from Merzouga Horse Riding. He’d set up our tent and a table in the interstitial dunes between desert and oasis. It was amazing. We sat in the dark of the night, drinking Moroccan mint tea (or as the joke we heard in nearly establishment named it, Berber Whiskey), and marveling at what our lives were in that quiet moment. Truly, it’s hard to express the peace and contentment from being honestly tired, greeted as a welcome guest wherever you go, climbing mountains, riding horses and listening to the desert winds. I never wanted to leave. To fall asleep in true quiet and dark, with the only sound being the nickering of the horse you’ve started to love picketed nearby. Well. It’s hard to explain how incredible that was.
There is so much more to be told, and felt. But I do not wish to bore you. I do want to remember every bit of this trip. And I do want to commend to you the wonderful things we found there –
* Our travel agent, Jane, who put this all together
* Merzouga Horse Riding – the kindest guide, the most incredible experiences, and possibly the best horse out there
* Andromeda Star Camp – doing cool stuff that is different from the standard and requires courage and conviction. To value darkness and silence in a brightly lit, noisy world is precious and rare.
Drop me a note if you want more details! And if you want to see what I mean by a gallop – here is one (I’m the one way ahead).
My Truant Pen 