The base camp was located somewhere not far from Tamegroute, in the Sahara Desert near the Algerian/Moroccan border. I had to cross the dizzying High Atlas Mountains by jeep and ride a dromedary to get there, suffering carsickness and severe gluteal discomfort on the same day.
Dromedaries are fairly docile creatures, but this belies the agony cause by their clumsy, unforgiving gait. They belong to the camel family, but they’re distinguished by having only one hump which, by the way, is not the animal’s “water pouch.”
Around dusk I stumbled up the nearest sand dune and, not having a tripod, tucked my elbows close to my side in order to take a shot of the base camp as steadily as possible. Being overcast, a sliver of moon, peeking from behind the clouds, was the only celestial object to pay a visit. Apart from the occasional rustle made by a nearby animal camouflaged by the darkness, the night was still and solitary.