From the desert city of Jaisalmer in western Rajasthan we arrange an overnight camel safari. Due to the heat in the middle of the day we set out at three in the afternoon in an open-sided jeep, driving for about forty-five minutes to a small town in the middle of a scrubby wasteland. Everything is sand coloured - the ground, the buildings, the plants and the camels which await us. We are in a group of seven - two Australian business men who work in Chennai, a young English couple and ourselves. Everyone approaches the camels caustiously, they have very long teeth and even longer legs. I had expected them to be about the same size of a large horse, but they are as tall as the Asian elephants I have ridden.
The camel drivers, several of them young boys, shout commands and the camels slowly and clumsily lower themselves into what looks like a very uncomfortable sitting position. I say hello to my chosen camel, who is smaller and darker than the others with multi-coloured pompoms on his nose band. He also has several nose rings and necklaces. He doesn't seem very happy to see me - when I try and pat his neck he swings his neck around angrily, showing a lot of teeth.He has a metal bar through the bridge of his nose, above his nostrils, to which his reigns are tied. No wonder he is stroppy. I ask the drivers what my camels name is, but it is long and complicated and I forget it quickly. Instead I call him Diva, because he is beautiful and seems to know it.
At the usherings of the camel drivers I was around to Diva's side to get on the saddle. Even though he is lying down it is still very high and I have to hop to get on. The saddle looks a lot like a sledge, with two runners either side of the camel's back and hgeld in place by cushions and ropes. Dive is reluctant to stand up and from watching the others it seems as complicated as sitting down.
The camel first un-tucks his front legs, suddenly and violently tipping the rider backwards, counteracted only with an immediate stomach crunch and clinging desperately to the front of the saddle. Before they know it, the rider is in danger of falling right over the camel's head as, from a 'kneeling' position, he straightens his back legs without having fully extended his front legs. Eventually he sorts him self out and the rider finds themselves very high up, looking down a long neck.
When everyone is ready, scarves around heads, water bottles in hand, we head off into the 'desert'. I have my suspicions that we are not going to be surrounded by sand dunes for miles around but I have been assured that we will at least see some.The camels seem to know the way, and only one or two are lead by the drivers, who walk along side us.
Riding the camel is not at all bumpy, and the backed saddle makes the whole thing very comfortable. By now it is nearly 4:30 and as well as getting cooler, the sky is cloudy. After about an hour we hear huge cracks of thunder and, just after crossing our first sand dune, it beings to spot with rain, and then pour. The drivers lead the camels at a bumpy trot to one of the few pieces of vegetation, a surprisingly green bush, and we all crouch beneath it - camels included. Sitting down is just as complicated as standing up, expect everything is in reverse. I have to lean far back as Diva drops to his knees. He is not very happy and keeps making angry noises which sound like a mixture between a cow and a sheep. After about fifteen minutes the rain has eased off and we remount and move on. We ride on, stopping only to explore some more sand dunes, before reaching our camp an hour later.
The camp is an arrangement of four small mud huts with stick roofs. The camels are un-tacked and fed their dinner, and then we are given chai. The sky is still cloudy so we miss the sun set, but we do get a bit of a pink glow from behind a dune. I spend an hour or so trying to get as close to the camels as possible to take photos, before dinner is served - chipatti, rice, potato and cabbage curry and a spicy tomato curry.
As it get darker we set up our beds in the middle of the circle of huts. We are provided with canvas woven beds on metal frames, thin mattresses, sheets pillows and blankets. Eventually the clouds begin to clear and I can see the stars coming out. It would be very quiet if it were not so windy, and I find it difficult to sleep because of the sand blowing in my face, so I wrap my scarf around my head and eventually drift off.
At one point in the night I am woken by several cows wondering around our beds, I sit up to watch them warily (they have very big horns) but they walk away, leaving me to notice how much clearer the sky has become, showing more and brighter than there had been when I fell asleep. I'm glad the cows woke me up.
I wake up at five in the morning as the sun rises. Everyone else, except the camels, are asleep, and I get up talk to them and take some more photos. It is still very quiet and cool, so I read my book for an hour before everyone wakes up. It is very surreal to be sitting in bed reading in the middle of the desert.
Breakfast is one of the best I've had in India - chai, toast, boiled eggs and bananas. I fill up and, once the camels have had their breakfast are re-saddled we head back via a different route, passing nomad villages and a few more dunes. The two Australians had not stayed the night in the desert (having been picked up by the jeep careering madly over the sand dunes after dinner the night before) and so there are two spare camels onto which the five drivers pile.
By 8:30 it is very hot and I am looking forward to getting back to the jeep. Diva seems to think the same and takes the lead, reaching the village several minutes before the others. I don't know how to make him sit down, so we walk around in circles for a bit. In this time I manage to actually stroke him, something he hasn't let me do before, and he feels softer than I had expected. As I imagine riding a camel down to Ashburton, I decide that camels are under-appreciated animals and that I like them very much, even if they are stroppy.
The camel drivers, several of them young boys, shout commands and the camels slowly and clumsily lower themselves into what looks like a very uncomfortable sitting position. I say hello to my chosen camel, who is smaller and darker than the others with multi-coloured pompoms on his nose band. He also has several nose rings and necklaces. He doesn't seem very happy to see me - when I try and pat his neck he swings his neck around angrily, showing a lot of teeth.He has a metal bar through the bridge of his nose, above his nostrils, to which his reigns are tied. No wonder he is stroppy. I ask the drivers what my camels name is, but it is long and complicated and I forget it quickly. Instead I call him Diva, because he is beautiful and seems to know it.
At the usherings of the camel drivers I was around to Diva's side to get on the saddle. Even though he is lying down it is still very high and I have to hop to get on. The saddle looks a lot like a sledge, with two runners either side of the camel's back and hgeld in place by cushions and ropes. Dive is reluctant to stand up and from watching the others it seems as complicated as sitting down.
Above: A camel saddle
Above: Camel sitting down
The camel first un-tucks his front legs, suddenly and violently tipping the rider backwards, counteracted only with an immediate stomach crunch and clinging desperately to the front of the saddle. Before they know it, the rider is in danger of falling right over the camel's head as, from a 'kneeling' position, he straightens his back legs without having fully extended his front legs. Eventually he sorts him self out and the rider finds themselves very high up, looking down a long neck.
Above: Camel standing up
When everyone is ready, scarves around heads, water bottles in hand, we head off into the 'desert'. I have my suspicions that we are not going to be surrounded by sand dunes for miles around but I have been assured that we will at least see some.The camels seem to know the way, and only one or two are lead by the drivers, who walk along side us.
Riding the camel is not at all bumpy, and the backed saddle makes the whole thing very comfortable. By now it is nearly 4:30 and as well as getting cooler, the sky is cloudy. After about an hour we hear huge cracks of thunder and, just after crossing our first sand dune, it beings to spot with rain, and then pour. The drivers lead the camels at a bumpy trot to one of the few pieces of vegetation, a surprisingly green bush, and we all crouch beneath it - camels included. Sitting down is just as complicated as standing up, expect everything is in reverse. I have to lean far back as Diva drops to his knees. He is not very happy and keeps making angry noises which sound like a mixture between a cow and a sheep. After about fifteen minutes the rain has eased off and we remount and move on. We ride on, stopping only to explore some more sand dunes, before reaching our camp an hour later.
Above: Camels having their dinner
The camp is an arrangement of four small mud huts with stick roofs. The camels are un-tacked and fed their dinner, and then we are given chai. The sky is still cloudy so we miss the sun set, but we do get a bit of a pink glow from behind a dune. I spend an hour or so trying to get as close to the camels as possible to take photos, before dinner is served - chipatti, rice, potato and cabbage curry and a spicy tomato curry.
Above: Dinner in the Desert
At one point in the night I am woken by several cows wondering around our beds, I sit up to watch them warily (they have very big horns) but they walk away, leaving me to notice how much clearer the sky has become, showing more and brighter than there had been when I fell asleep. I'm glad the cows woke me up.
Above: Bed for the night
Breakfast is one of the best I've had in India - chai, toast, boiled eggs and bananas. I fill up and, once the camels have had their breakfast are re-saddled we head back via a different route, passing nomad villages and a few more dunes. The two Australians had not stayed the night in the desert (having been picked up by the jeep careering madly over the sand dunes after dinner the night before) and so there are two spare camels onto which the five drivers pile.
By 8:30 it is very hot and I am looking forward to getting back to the jeep. Diva seems to think the same and takes the lead, reaching the village several minutes before the others. I don't know how to make him sit down, so we walk around in circles for a bit. In this time I manage to actually stroke him, something he hasn't let me do before, and he feels softer than I had expected. As I imagine riding a camel down to Ashburton, I decide that camels are under-appreciated animals and that I like them very much, even if they are stroppy.
Above: Nomad Village
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