camelsafari

Just before Helen and I left Udaipur for our little sojourn to Jodhpur and Jaisalmer we met a nice couple, David and Lee, who recommended a camel safari company to us. Arriving in Jaisalmer we searched out Adventure Travels. During our Q&A, Inder, the owner, said all the right things: we each get our own big sleeping roll that included a mattress, clean sheets, 2 clean blankets, and a real pillow (a big selling point after 11 months on the road). Also included was 6 litres of bottled water per person per day, all meals cooked from scratch and made with bottled water, and best of all, their camels were strong, healthy and treated humanely. We were both pretty ambivalent about the cruelty of riding camels across the scorching desert, but we both asked some people who'd returned from a safari that night what they thought about their treatment. Across the board they told us the guides took great pains to make sure their charges were made comfortable.

At some ungodly hour before sunrise the next day we found ourselves in a jeep being whisked about 40 km south of Jaisalmer to the edge of the Great Thar Desert. As the sun was rising we met our guide, Humga (pronounces Hamja), a very quiet Muslim guy who, with his rugged good looks could have easily been cast as a movie star - a profession, for which I am happy to say, he is way too humble. We also met the camels who looked as content and healthy as a camel can look. They seemed relatively small whilst lying down. Now, as I've stated before on this website, I think horses are nasty, temperamental, evil creatures and as far as I was concerned the jury was still out on camels. The one rather large beast made an obscene noise somewhere between a groan and a fart when I passed him, and as I spun around to see what the noise was, in his refusal to accept responsibility he was looking the other way. Normally, a noise like that would cause embarrassment, but in India disgusting sounds and men go together like peanut butter and jelly so I really didn't care if anyone assigned the blame to me. After being here for 11 months bodily noises don't even make me flinch, but don't worry folks, I'll clean up my act before returning to the west (with my lovely and patient wife's gentle coaching, of course).

Naturally, since I was the "big guy" they had to put me on the big, flatulent noise-throwing camel. Before climbing on I looked him in the eye and said "peace on earth, OK?" His first response was to look away again which was closely followed by another smelly loud gust of wind. All of a sudden horses didn't look so bad. As the guides drill into your head, you have to lean way back when the camel stands because his first movement will lurch you forward as he straightens his back legs, then you lean forward so he can lengthen his front legs...right-O. I guess I was expecting some neck whipping movement like a mechanical bull ride but in a split second he was up. And he kept going up, and up. And then he went just a little higher before leveling off. Yes, he was a tall one. From way atop the gargantuan beast I mentioned I wanted an older camel that would stroll along and was very gentle. They said this was the one. When I asked what the camels name was and the other guides looked at each other and one handler spontaneously said "his name Gento." Oooooohkaaay, we've got a used camel salesman in the crowd!

Then we were off. Gento was the oldest and most experienced camel of the 25 camels in the camp. At the ripe old age of 10 (camels retire at 24 or 25 and live until 28) he was not only really big, but since he was the veteran the other camels always fell in line behind him. I have to say, I ended up really liking the curmudgony old wind-bag. According to my lovely wife it's the old birds of a feather scenario.

Before stopping for lunch we passed through a few little desert villages and met some locals. I also had a chance to practice my imitation of a big scary guy with no coordination who hops on one leg (note: no children we physically hurt while taking this picture). We planned our safari to escape being in a city over Holi ­- a Hindu holiday of new beginnings that is marked by people completely drenching each other with florescent colored dye which is sprayed through a hand help water cannon that looks much like a large syringe. Even though the ritual was only supposed to last one afternoon, in the days prior we'd seen brightly painted kids threatening to soak tourists unless they booty'd up with 10 rupees. Humans, cows, dogs, donkeys, monkeys, camels, crows, elephants, etc, – no living creature is exempt from the color of Holi. We also began to see a lot of florescent drenched clothing in the little villages so after lunch we decided to just bypass them completely and head deeper into the desert.

As we settled into the dunes for the evening, Humga's culinary skills were highlighted as he whipped up a divine feast utilizing nothing but a few vegetables, some twigs, a couple of pots, and a pocket knife. All kinds of locals came to join us for food. With our bellies full we hiked to the highest point we could find to watch the sun slip over the dunes. The interesting thing was it wasn't really getting too dark. It was if the shadows just shifted around. Helen glanced over her shoulder and saw that the moon was huge and full and it was lurking behind us. Hold a normal sized plate about arms length away and that is how big the moon was. It was so bright we had no problem setting up our bedrolls ­- we were actually thinking we wouldn't get any sleep, but eventually the early morning, the long ride, the good food, and the unbelievably comfortable beds took their toll.