Jaisalmer: camel trek

 (by Steve)
One of the things on my bucket list for India was to take Owen on an overnight camel safari in the desert. India offers some pretty amazing experiences for a 9 year old, but nothing seems to compare to the opportunity of riding a camel out into the desert and sleeping under the stars. It has all the elements of a great adventure: an unknown and untamed landscape which can only be conquered by the bravest of men (or those who pay for a safari package), independence and isolation (ignore the fact we got full cell phone coverage the entire time), exotic animals (camels are exotic, right?), and exotic animal sounds (farting, belching, groaning, farting, etc). What 9 year old wouldn’t love it!?

During my previous time in India many years ago, I had experienced an overnight camel safari and knew that the novelty of riding a camel quickly wears off and all that remains is the horribly uncomfortable lurching and bouncing. I realized that Owen would not be interested in the typical 4-6 hour ride on the first day of the safari tours, so I asked our hotel to organize a custom package of maybe 1-2 hours ride out, camp out overnight, and return in the morning. Given that we were staying at a 5-star hotel it seems reasonable that the first reaction was disbelief. “You want to SLEEP in the desert?! Sir, this is not a good idea! Perhaps, I can arrange for a tent to follow you?” While I was intrigued to know how they could get a tent to follow me, I remained committed to our plan of sleeping in the desert, in the open air, under the stars. After talking the hotel staff down from the ledge, they finally agreed to organize a trip – but they insisted on preparing some food that we could carry along (instead of eating what the guide would prepare) and providing some blankets to keep warm (instead of using the riding blankets on the camels). These impositions seemed to dampen the spirit of adventure, but truth be told it didn’t take a lot of convincing. Suffering from “fast motion” (the amusing India term for diarrhea) wasn’t a part of the adventure criteria.

The morning of the safari Owen and I ate breakfast with the family, collected our hotel packs of food and bedding, piled in the car and headed out for open desert.  Within 20 minutes we reached the rendezvous point for our guide in what can only be described as the camel parking lot. Every tour provider seems to start from the same location, each with a small collection of 2-8 camels and a couple of guides waiting for their group. 

As our car came to a stop, we were surrounded by anxious guides who were ready to start their safari. It took a while to figure out which one was ours, especially since very few of them spoke English in such a rural area. Finally, we found each other, and began unloading our packs from the van as the other guides watched and smirked as if to silently, but condescendingly, laugh at our hotel bedding for the desert. 

Camel is loaded down with all the comforts of a five star hotel

With the help of our guide, we strapped our gear on the camels lying in the sand and climbed on top. In broken English our guide offered simple instructions, “Lean back. Camel stand”, then he made a clicking sound to encourage the animals to rise up.  He wasn't kidding when he said "lean back"!  Have you’ve ever watched a camel stand up?  It starts will all four legs tucked underneath and then fully extends its rear legs while the front legs remain folded on the ground. This puts you in the very uncomfortable position of nearly tumbling head-first over the camel unless you lean so far back that you are essentially standing in the saddle.  Then the camel awkwardly attempts to fully stand by extending its front legs, but usually stumbles a few steps.  This means the rider must quickly return to a regular sitting position while also bouncing around as the animal gets its footing. This short exercise is foreshadowing of the journey ahead. 

 We begin the trek with our guide walking in front and the camels in a line, following his lead. 

Despite the fact that both our camels were female, mine was named “John” and Owen’s was named “Michael Jackson.” Owen’s camel was younger and always last in our caravan, providing Owen with the opportunity to fully experience the sights and sounds of a camel’s rear. I couldn’t help but laugh every time I heard Owen yell “Watch out Michael Jackson!” as John dropped turds on the path.

Owen and Michael Jackson

I tried to prepare Owen ahead of time for the reality of how uncomfortable a camel ride can be - the swaying, jerking, and lunging quickly starts to get uncomfortable, and within 15 minutes (and every 5 minutes thereafter) Owen would announce that “this looks like a good place to stop.” To be fair, the ride for Owen was even more difficult since his legs were not long enough to reach the makeshift rope stirrups on the camel saddle. I felt bad for him, but he eventually figured out an ingenious method for riding more comfortably – he turned backwards to lay on his belly and used his feet to brace against the horn of the saddle. In this position he was able to create a bed using the many blankets layered on the camel and minimize the impact of the constant sway-jerk-lunge motion.

 

He figured out a more comfortable way to ride a camel

We rode for about an hour, and while the temperature was not overly hot, the strong sun was definitely a burden.  We stopped for a quick water break and let Owen run around in the sand, mounted back up and continued for another hour before stopping to make camp for the night.

One spot is as good as any so we unloaded the gear and sat down for dinner, which consisted of sweet corn soup from a thermos (one of Owen’s favorite foods in India), roasted vegetable kabobs, pita and hummus. The food was delicious but the china and silverware included in the hotel pack seemed a bit pretentious for a desert safari. I tried to hide these from the guide and avoid more (justifiable) condescending smirks.

Dinner time for the guide and camels

While Owen burned through some energy after dinner, the guide and I arranged our bed on the sand. At first the guide started to make the bed on an incline of the dune, but I asked him to move to a flat surface. 

Our campsite and bedding

The hotel provided a woven wool carpet to use a base and we spread that out on the sand.  Over the carpet we arranged 2 bed sheets and a duvet filled with a down comforter, along with 2 pillows. The white sheets and duvet created a stark contrast against the endless sea of sand, and even looked somewhat inviting. 

Once our bed was set, the guide moved on to make his bed and tend to the camels. I noticed that he purposefully created his bed on an incline and wondered if maybe he knew something I didn’t.

In hindsight, I believe he used the incline as a way to minimize the hardness of sleeping on sand. By laying at a slight incline some of your body weight can be transferred to your feet, instead of having all your weight resting on your back or shoulders. When you first lie down your body weight causes you to slowly slide, but the sand naturally creates a small shelf to provide a footing and prevents you from sliding further. Of course, I didn’t figure this out until the next morning with a stiff and aching body to reinforce my poor decision.

After dinner, Owen was at full speed and used the remaining daylight to run and fall and roll through the desert dunes.   He loved every moment as he rolled down the dunes, escaped from imaginary monsters bursting through the sand, and generally made sure that every nook and cranny in his body and clothes was filled with fine grains of sand. 

 

Owen ensured that lots of sand returned home in his clothes

look out for desert monsters that hide under the dunes

As the sun went down, so did the temperature and it became clear that the evening would be chilly. Unfortunately, the sunset was not amazing (nothing like the awesome scenes we experienced in the Maldives) but as the stars began to appear, Owen finally returned and we crawled up a tall dune to sit and watch the stars. It was a great moment, lying head-to-head with my son in the sand of the Thar desert, watching the stars and talking about whatever came to mind. We eventually pulled out my cell phone and called the hotel to say goodnight to the rest of the Hunter family.  Having full cell coverage in the middle of the desert really kills the sense of adventure, even more than the hotel's duvet and silverware!

To be honest, I was a bit nervous about going to sleep because large black beetles, like scarabs, appeared from under the sand around sunset.   At first, it was just one or two. . .but then it was more and more until everywhere you looked you could see them scurrying about. The guide helped to reinforce their harmless nature by picking one up and allowing it to roam freely over his arms and neck. Owen never seemed to mind the beetles and he chased after them as part of his desert romp. At one point I saw him lying in the sand with a few beetles crawling on his shirt as he yelled out the 9-year old sound effects for dramatic and imaginary death. If he didn’t get the creeps, then I guess I couldn’t show any fear.  For some reason they never crawled on the bed all night. I can assume this because as they scuttled around through the night their six-legged movement left a trail in the fine sand, something that looked similar to a bicycle tread. The tread marks stopped about 6-8 inches from our bed, which left the sand surrounding our bed in pristine condition. I suppose its possible they jumped, but I like to believe they left us alone.

We eventually turned in and snuggled under the covers of our bed, now almost glowing as the white sheets reflected the moonlight. The night was cold. We slept under the duvet in our clothes and snuggled together. As long as skin was under the blanket, it was fine - even a bit too warm – but any skin exposed to the air and the slight breeze, was freezing! It became a cycle of putting your whole head under the covers until it was too hot, and then putting your head out to cool down, and then back under again, etc., etc.  Combined with the hard surface and the occasional wake up blast from a camel belch or fart, it made for a terrible night of sleep. Both of us tossed and turned all night but it didn’t matter – we still loved every minute of it.

 

 

When the sun began to rise, we crawled out of bed and enjoyed a simple breakfast of hard boiled eggs and juice. As I went to start packing up our bed I noticed that Owen’s side of the sheet appeared to be under the sand. Puzzled, I finally realized that all the sand he had collected from his dune rolling had slowly filtered out from the cracks overnight and pooled in the bed. Owen enjoyed one last frolic in the dunes and we saddled up to head home.

The ride back seemed to be longer than the ride in – maybe because I was already sore from the day before and the rough night of sleep. Our guide rode the camel back instead of walking out front.  He allowed the camels to run occasionally. A walking camel is a rough ride, but a running camel is miserable! At one point during a run, I turned around to see how Owen was holding up. He was in his backwards belly position, but flopping up and down on the blankets with each awkward stride.

We finally reached the rendezvous point, paid our guide, loaded up the van and Owen said goodbye to Michael Jackson. In true form, MJ let out a final toot and our desert adventure was complete.