When the wind lifts the sands

Prologue

I decided to write this travel report driven by the desire to share this wonderful experience. Let me start by saying that I began travelling late, at thirty. Until then, travelling for me was just a dream. After that, once the ice was broken, it was enough to start a habit that has taken me to Brazil (4 times), the United States of America, China, Cuba, India and almost all of Europe. When I travel I love the "do-it-yourself" approach, buying only the flight and then sorting things out on the spot, obviously after doing my research mainly on the internet. This is in order to achieve the result of completely "switching off" from the routine and stress of everyday life made up of computers, invoices, appointments and phone calls. It was during a discussion with a friend I met on a travel blog who pointed out that I had never been to Africa.

From that moment the spark was struck that led me to the places I describe below. When she mentioned Tunisia, I won't deny that I immediately turned up my nose, since I associated the name of this country with tourist resorts, a jaunt in the desert and the inevitable rip-off visits in the souks for tourists. Contradicting all that was "Benny", the Italian guide who has lived in Tunisia for 37 years, whom she put me in touch with first by email the_desert_rats@yahoo.it and then by phone. Benny managed to spark my curiosity by proposing a tour in the desert, on the road, away from the normal tourist flows, to live a unique experience. I preferred to trust an expert on the places, because although I had travelled a lot abroad in the past, and although I consider myself an open mind towards the "new", I confess a certain suspicion towards the Arab and Muslim world.

In India I sometimes had dealings with Muslims, but although no serious incidents occurred, I retain a certain mistrust of some of their attitudes. So here I am, setting the organising machine in motion (my Nokia and my phone book) to look for partners for this trip. The period is September, so it's not very easy because of work commitments, but the short period of eight days and the flight of just a couple of hours at most mean that we manage to form a group of five travellers, three guys and two girls.

I check with the local guide about what we should bring with us: sleeping bag, soft bag or trolley, light hiking boots, light clothing for the daytime hours, suitable clothing for the cold night hours, valid passport, personal medicines for those who need them, a miner's-type headlamp (you'll understand why later!), a bathrobe and obviously a camera and camcorder! The personal luggage in total must not exceed 25 kg so as not to compromise the expedition (and here there was indeed some difficulty!). We manage to find a flight from Bergamo for less than €200 with a stopover in Rome, but we prefer to take a single Malpensa-Tunis route with AirOne (now C.A.I. or Alitalia) for just 30 euros more, booked online!

Day 1

We arrive in Tunis on a mild morning in mid-September. After the unusually quick Tunisian customs formalities, we meet our expedition leader; I finally manage to put a face to Benito and his assistant, whom I'd only spoken to by phone until now, the owner of his agency with the picturesque name of "THE DESERT RATS". It immediately strikes me how these people gave us a good thrashing until '43 right around here. The schedule is tight, and to avoid wasting time we set off in two Toyota Land Cruiser 4x4s, heading south, towards Douz, the gateway to the desert, where we'll arrive towards evening. Along the way we stop at El Djem, where we visit the Roman amphitheatre, which I only now discover is second only to the Colosseum in Rome in size (blissful ignorance).

Once the amazement at discovering the Tunisian Colosseum has subsided, and it's very clean inside by the way, we set off again for Matmata, a troglodyte village up in the mountains; Benny has us visit a troglodyte house, the dwellings carved into the rock typical of these parts. They have the particularity of keeping the indoor temperature at 18-20 degrees all year round. We leave the mountains behind us and cover the kilometres that separate us from Douz, the gateway to the desert, set along the rocky desert, ready to venture into the sands the next day. We spend the night at the Hotel Mehari, which to my great surprise I discover is a four-star

Day 2

True to the promise that it would not be a Club-Med vacation, our guide forces us to get up at the crack of dawn, and after breakfast, complete with brioche, we depart at 6:00 AM for Timbajne in the mountains. We abandon the paved roads and tackle the first hard-surfaced tracks, to get used to it, catching sight of the first chains of dunes that we will then climb over, with passages between them aboard our Toyotas; we stop among the first sands for a quick packed lunch. This is a kind of training in view of the following days. Benny explains to us how we should behave toward the people we will meet, how to avoid unpleasant encounters with snakes and scorpions, how to drink and how to move around. We have finally entered the Sahara desert, the void. Sand and rocks everywhere, and the silence broken only by the sound of the wind.

We stop only in the late afternoon in the middle of "nowhere," not neglecting to gather the wood needed for the fire. Under the careful direction of our guide we set up the tented camp for the night. The first dinner under the stars, exchanging impressions of that first day, feeling almost like Tuareg warriors on this our first day in the desert. After the usual combination of coffee and cigarette, it becomes impossible not to admire the incredible sky, for us accustomed to the haze of smog and the lights of the city. From this night I will always carry within me the attraction toward that bonfire that in the middle of nowhere, I don't know why, appeared as something "friendly," reassuring. I had never overnighted among the sands of the desert, although in the past I had taken day excursions in the deserts of Rajasthan and the Sertão. Of course, the Sahara is another thing!

Day 3

At dawn, after breakfast, we resume our march, accompanied by the slow passage of time; we are in the middle of a sea of sand, and after the racket of the past days, today's silences accompanied by the hissing of the wind make us reflect, reminding us who we are, confronting us with nature and with the Sahara, which is no longer just that big yellow patch on geographical maps, but now truly appears as an entity without boundaries. Today's destination is the Lake of the Moon, where we will arrive after no small effort, crossing chains of sand dunes. At the end of the day Benny confirms that we have climbed over no fewer than seven! Driving on the sand is very particular; it is curious to observe how the dune is tackled, always on the highest part so as not to crack and bog down the vehicles.

After a stop for lunch, the caravan resumes its march; tiredness begins to make itself felt, the heat of the Saharan sun slowly becomes an adversary, one that wears you down. I begin to wish to arrive at the destination as soon as possible. The marches in the desert of the legionaries seen in old black-and-white films come back to my mind. It is almost a relief to tackle the last stretch that takes us to the lake, where a thermal water spring feeds the basin, set in a natural context that is difficult to describe, setting aside all caution, and mindful of years of films set in the desert, we throw ourselves into the warm water without even changing, a divine sensation. We are not alone; camped nearby is a clan of "Arbaia," which the guide explains to us is a nomadic Algerian people, who took refuge in Tunisia with their flocks and dromedaries, due to disputes with their government.

Reinvigorated by the unexpected dip, we set up camp, the cook prepares our little dinner and then the well-deserved rest. It would have been curious to get to know our oasis neighbors, but tiredness prevails, and they don't seem so enthusiastic about camping alongside this group of noisy Italians! We watch Benny talking with their leader; he reminds me of John Wayne negotiating with the Indian chief in Fort Apache. Well, let's hope it doesn't end the same way this time too! Physically, up to here we have been able to prove to ourselves that we can do it... Sure, we weren't on camels with Lawrence of Arabia, but I assure you the sensation is great! It feels like touching the stars with your hands.

Day 4

We always remember that we are in the middle of the Sahara; no waste, the sand has now gotten everywhere, we can't get rid of it, we live with it..., we are living the adventure in the desert, we are part of a film! Many hours of crossing chains of dunes await us, seeking passages like new explorers; I had never thought about it, but the dunes move; we head toward Ksar Ghilane, an oasis, where a palm grove gives us the impression of a garden, and there too a thermal water spring with a small lake. It is easy at this moment to understand why Arab fairy tales always offer refreshing oases as the goal. It is the sensation one feels when in the middle of this annoying sand.

The journey allows us to enjoy spectacles that make us feel how small we are and that, deep down, we too are a grain of sand; we arrive at the oasis in the dark; by now we have become quick at setting up the tented camp in the palm grove. We still have the strength for dinner, a short walk always within sight of the fire, exchanging impressions and sensations, reliving the difficult moments and, why not, also the fun ones of the day.

Day 5

We stay for the entire day in the oasis, devoting ourselves to relaxation, baths in the thermal water, 37°C, and we make contact with the inhabitants near the oasis, who are very friendly and well disposed toward us. Some speak

Day 6

After the day of relaxation, the next day we have breakfast, get back on the road, heading for Douz, where we say goodbye to the team, and reluctantly realize we've left the desert behind, which had become, with all due respect, almost familiar, heading for Tunis, crossing the salt lake Chott El Djerid, after a visit to the mountain oasis of Tamerza, en route to the capital, not without some regret, realizing that our raid into the desert is at an end. It's incredible how time expands in the desert. It feels like I left Italy a month ago! Along the way we have lunch at a restaurant. We then set off again toward Tunis, where we arrive in the late afternoon. We stay in Sidi Bou Said, called the pearl of Tunisia, a typical village perched on the cliff by the Mediterranean, already a destination in ancient times for our Roman ancestors, poets, and writers.

We stay at the small charming Hotel Bou Fares, converted from an old Arab house restored by Moroccan craftsmen. The guide takes us to the restaurant for a Lebanese dinner. At the end of the evening we have mint tea in one of the oldest cafés in Tunisia, the De Natt

Day 7

We're in Tunis, where we plunge into the chaotic traffic. We get the chance to visit the Bardo Museum, one of the most important in the world for its mosaics in an almost perfect state of conservation — in fact, you actually walk right on top of some of them. After the Bardo we go to the Medina district, where we have lunch and stroll among hundreds of small shops, with the inevitable shopping that comes with it. I had imagined Tunis very differently, but instead it turns out to be very similar to many European Mediterranean cities.

Day 8

We dedicate the last day to packing our bags, not without a touch of nostalgia, before heading to the airport, where we say goodbye to Benny and................. return to Italy.

Final Thoughts

As described earlier, we only bought the ticket in Italy, entrusting everything else to Benito's agency. A choice that turned out to be a real bullseye for an adventure-filled raid while always feeling calm and safe, which allowed us to bring home the feelings of a truly special adventure. I'm already thinking about a new desert raid that our guide is organising from Tunisia to Egypt across the Libyan desert. The temptation is strong!