Sunrise in Wahiba Sands

My internal clock has me awake before dawn and I quickly get dressed, grab my camera and head out.   The temperature hasn’t abated and I’m struck by a wall of heat when I leave my cabin.  The lodge is quiet as I tread softly through the grounds before exiting at the base of the large dune.  This morning I use the rope to haul myself up it and I’m gasping so hard at the top, I worry I may have given myself a heart attack.  Will someone find me before the sand covers my body, with just my camera lens poking up like a periscope?

I spend all morning walking the dunes, trying to balance my camera on top of my backpack to get some shots of myself, which is a complete pain in the arse, due to the fact that I’ve  forgotten my tripod in the car that’s parked back in town.  Even though I SPECIFICALLY hauled around said tripod this entire trip just for this very occasion.  Grrrrrrr

I make my way back to the lodge and run into Amur, our driver, from yesterday.  He’s watering his camels and taking them back to his camp.  We exchange pleasantries and he thanks us for booking a camel ride with him this evening.  We’re to meet him at the camel pen at 5:30pm for a quick jaunt into the dunes.  I’ve ridden camels multiple times in Egypt, Jordan, and Rajasthan so I feel I’m a fairly competent passenger.

I cull and edit hundreds of photos and videos this afternoon.  My blog has been updated so I’m ready to go once I’m back in the internet world.  It’s been a relaxing afternoon in my air conditioned cabin to avoid the searing heat.  A little bird is perched on the hose leading from the air conditioner in front of my bedroom window, drinking the condensation.

The cold air is starting to bother my sinuses again so I opt to sit outside.  I  construct an ice pack for my neck out of a frozen water bottle wrapped in my large handkerchief.  Although there’s a breeze, it’s hot air straight out of a furnace that does little to cool me.

We meet Amur’s son, Salem,  who’s awaiting us with two saddled camels.  I hop on the lead camel and settle myself into the thick blanket that’s formed into a cocoon for my butt.  I’m seated so far behind the hump that it feels like I’m going to slide down his rear legs.  Once in the “saddle” it’s quite comfy and I have a metal handle to hang onto for when the camel stands and kneels.  I lean back as my camel starts to rise.  Rear feet first and then the front, so I’m pitched steeply forward and then rocked all the way back.

The camels are tied together and Salem leads my camel.  We amble along the desert valley road before heading onto the edge of the dune.  Becca’s camel is periodically using my leg as a head rest or scratching post.  I scratch him between the ears and forehead.  He has a big sneeze and I feel wet globs land on my arm.  Ugh, camel snot.