Johnny Walker Al Pacino and Rambo
So, when you’re sitting on a camel – seat position and balance are crucial. Stay central and sit upright. Always, look ahead rather than down. Lean back when the camel is going down hill. Grip the saddle tightly with your legs. I figured all this out by myself due to the scarcity of information in the non existent safety briefing. On the bright side, a few hours of this and you will end up with thighs that could crush a python.
After a while you get into a sort of rhythm and the panic subsides a little. You’re not enjoying it as such but you are beginning to entertain the possibility that you might not die. At this point you begin to lose all feeling in your feet. I assume that this is because all the blood has rushed to your thighs to help you hang on.
By all accounts I had it easy. Johnny Walker was at the front. Behind me Al Pacino was trying to eat Gemma’s scarf and nibble her arm while Rambo (Stuart’s camel) kept trying to make a bolt for freedom.
Afger an hour, I began to feel more and more queasy. It was probably a combination of the heat, dehydration, and seasickness. We stopped for a water break but it didn’t seem to help. After another half an hour, I knew I was in trouble and about to faint. We stopped. Johnny descended to his knees and I literally keeled over and sat in the burning sand. There was no shade and it was impossible to find any shelter from the sun. I was feeling really rough. Gemma shouted encouraging words while Stuart took photographs!
It was decided that the jeep would return and take me the rest of the way to camp. Once there, I would have access to cold water and shade. Jeetu, the driver helped me up. He commented on how rough I looked. Once settled in the vehicle, he advised me to put my head between my legs, grip the handrail tightly, breathe deeply and brace myself. I wondered if was this an old Indian trick to combat heat exhaustion? “No, ” he replied. We were going to be hurtling over the sand dunes and he didn’t want me to injure myself. What????
The next 15 minutes can only be described as the most traumatic roller-coaster ride that I’ve ever been on. The jeep lurched, revved, skidded and spun. Sand sprayed through the open windows. Everything rattled – especially my bones. I was actually too terrified to remember how ill I was feeling.
Eventually it stopped. As I gasped for a breath (which I had been holding) and with relief ( that I had survived) I reckoned that I would have been better off staying with Johnny Walker. However, a cold drink and some shade and the trauma was soon forgiven ( if not forgotten) as I watched the others amble into camp.
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