Caravan instead of column

27.02.23 Merzouga It's 4pm when someone knocks on my motorhome. Brigitte is outside and shows me her thermometer, which is usually mounted on her vehicle. 33 degrees Celsius in the sun. I can't believe it! It doesn't feel that hot to me. Brigitte has tried several times today to convince me in vain that the temperatures are so high. I would have bet anything that we don't have 25 degrees. Fortunately, Brigitte doesn't bet... Have I already acclimated to the higher temperatures here? Was I maybe a Berber, a desert dweller in one of my previous lives?

No way! Hasan, our guide who lives here and led us through a palm oasis to the city this morning, is wearing a thick caftan and an even thicker parka underneath. In addition, long pants and I bet also thick tights. It's crazy: we all walk around the city in t-shirts and shorts while the locals come towards us bundled up and stare at us with the same surprise as we do at them.

When asked how Hassan explains this, he smiles. "We often have temperatures well over 50 degrees here in the summer. We could fry eggs on the ground. No one can leave the house. We are accustomed to different temperatures." Of course, what would the Berbers still take off in the heat if they are already walking around in summer clothes now. On the other hand, what would we wear in winter if we walked around in our thickest clothes at 30 degrees in the shade. I would be interested to know how long it would take for an adult from Germany to acclimate to the climate in Morocco. How would I react to 52 degrees in the summer? I would be tempted to try it...

I was also tempted to ride a camel. Yes, I know, it's really touristy and not really my thing, but it was organized for our group. We convoy drivers should try ourselves as a caravan. Ok. And so I ventured a bit further into this fascinating desert. So I decided to ride along and didn't regret it. For several reasons: The camels impressed me deeply. To feel this power underneath me, with which these animals work their way up the dunes and effortlessly balance every slip in the sand with their thin legs, no matter how heavy the load on their backs may be. And to radiate a calmness and security that is almost palpable. I don't think these animals are doing badly. We were at the "camel station" in the morning, as Hasan called it, and could see how the quadrupeds were taken care of and prepared for their day's work. It looked very professional and reflected the value the animals have for their owners.

The desert in Merzouga is beautiful. This is due to the many dunes that rise up here. But they are not the largest in the world, as I mistakenly reported yesterday, you can see those in the USA, as Ralf informed me today. They are definitely the most beautiful in Morocco, as we were able to see today. We even got to conquer one of them on foot, which not everyone managed to do. They missed an impressive view and a rapid descent, some of which ended up on their butt.

On the way home, we rode towards the sunset. I was captivated by the play of colors. Brown is my favorite color and it was just beautiful to see how the shadow play of the setting sun dipped the desert in a thousand different shades of earth. At the same time, a gentle wind picked up, blowing the fine sand over the dunes and with it the darkness of the night like a cloth over the landscape. I want more of this Sahara. Luckily, I can get it tomorrow...