The big „shmell“ scam

I woke up already half awake—if that makes sense. I had slept terribly that night. It wasn’t because of the cold, but somehow, I ended up with the hardest mattress imaginable. It was so uncomfortable that my hips started hurting every 30 minutes, and I kept waking up to change position. (Am I already this old?) At least the sunrise was spectacular, and for a brief moment, it made me forget the misery of the night.
After breakfast, we set off and walked for a few hours until our first break. We snacked on dates, dried apricots, and nuts, which were so unbelievably good that I’m certain I’ll never find anything like them back in Switzerland. The dates and apricots practically melted on my tongue—pure perfection. We continued walking under the burning sun for another hour before finding some shade under an acacia tree to have lunch. Even though it’s winter here, the midday heat can be intense.
I should probably mention that hygiene had pretty much gone out the window by this point. We all smelled like camels (or worse) by the end of the first day. Our nails, which we both forgot to trim before traveling, were hopelessly dirty, and our hair looked like it had been dipped in oil. Honestly, I’m not sure if shampoo could save us at this point—buzzing it all off might be the only option.
Speaking of smelly camels... After lunch, Nadja and I were chatting with Iahia, trying to improve our Arabic. (We’ve picked up quite a bit and can proudly say we have a solid vocabulary now!) Out of curiosity, we asked him what "camel" is in Arabic. Feeling confident, we started calling our camels by their new Arabic name—until Iahia dropped a bombshell. These weren’t camels. They were dromedaries, which, in Arabic, are called shmells. Nadja and I lost it. We were promised a camel driver and camel trekking, and here we were, trekking with shmells! Scam or not, we were stuck with them.
Before setting off again, we even got to ride the dromedaries for a while. It was so much fun, and I wished it had lasted longer. They’re like horses, but way fluffier and much calmer. Afterward, we walked on and eventually reached our campsite for the last night—a gorgeous palm oasis nestled between the dunes.
After the sunset, while Iahia was busy cooking, Nadja and I climbed the tallest dune nearby. It was January 12th, exactly one year since my grandmother passed away. To honor her, we lit a candle on the dune and watched it burn as the sky shifted from orange to pink and finally faded into darkness.
Back at the campsite, our camel driver revealed a hidden talent: baking flatbread. He made it right on—or rather in—the fireplace. I didn’t get to taste it, but watching the process was fascinating. For dinner, we had tajine, which, as always, was absolutely delicious.
That night, since it was our last, Nadja and I decided to sleep outside on the dunes instead of in our tents. It started off okay, even though the moon was ridiculously bright and a dog wouldn’t stop barking. But around 3 a.m., the wind picked up, and sand started blowing in our faces. After trying to endure it for a while, we gave up and retreated to the tent where we usually ate our meals.
The wind kept getting stronger, and we were honestly a little worried that the tent might collapse on us. But, to our surprise, we survived the night. Adventure complete!Read more