Into the desert! Installment 2 of the Great Camel Trek!

I think we left off with the miserable, hot, uncomfortable car somewhere on a rather jolty road on the way to the desert. We had to make a quick stop so Abdul could obtain some very fresh lamb for dinner, so we pulled over at the last village before the desert to pick up supplies before bumping the last few km into the most beautiful pavilion ever, covered with grape vines and blissfully cool where we waited for the camel man (Abdul’s words, not mine) to get the camels ready, and then, as the sun was just thinking about setting, we rode off into the sunset.

Not quite, but almost. The sun set very shortly after we got there, for which poor Abdul was very grateful. He had melon already sliced waiting to be consumed ravenously the second the sun dropped below the horizon. The desert was beautiful- greener than I thought it would be, with undulating waves of sand in all directions. The dunes were much higher than I’d assumed, but the camel man was good about leading my camel down the less steep parts of the hills, and I didn’t fall off. Not even once! Although Abdul says he has several times, and it doesn’t hurt when you land in the sand.

We had fruit and naan bread- a flat bread kind of like a pizza crust, and different than Indian Naan, for dinner, and once it got cooler the camel man lit a fire, and Abdul made lamb kebabs over the coals. It was a fairly idyllic evening, even though it in no way represented the foods that would have been eaten on a real camel trek through the desert. Fresh fruits and meats were probably not on the menu very often on the Silk Road.

As the sun went down, the weather was cool and breezy, and stunningly Quiet. When I camp in the mountains, all of the crepuscular creatures come out and start chirping, buzzing, humming, and who-ing, and the forest is noisy with the crunching of animal feet in the pine needles. Not so the desert. The only noise to be heard was the occasional sound from the camels shuffling off to the side and the breeze flowing through the sand.

As night fell completely, I dutifully got into the tent set up for me, but quickly determined that I would never fall asleep in the sweltering tent, so I pulled my blanket and sleeping bag with me onto the desert sand and slept with the breeze in my hair at least, even if the clouds covered up the stars. I woke in the early dawn to the sound of Abdul praying quietly towards Mecca, and fell back asleep until 10 am.

We had a crunchy orange melon with leftover naan bread for breakfast before heading back towards the car. Abdul apparently hates riding camels, so he opted to walk, and took pictures of me the whole way back. Except that my camel was being stubborn, and refused to go up any steep hills, so we had to go a round about way, and lost Abdul for a while. The camel man didn’t seem concerned, and Abdul showed up eventually, looking none the worse for wear, and we climbed back into the car for another long drive back to Kashgar.

The monotony was broken this time around, not by a flat tire, but by several other excursions. Abdul stopped his car at a river. “Do you want to go swimming?” He says. “No, thank you” Becky replied. “But I’m so sandy!” Abdul complained “I can’t drive 4 hours to Kashgar in a hot car when I’m sandy!” Fine, Abdul could go swimming. I opted not to for several reasons involving murky water, and not wanting to take off all of my clothes in full view of the highway. This didn’t slow Abdul. He reappeared from behind a bush wearing practically nothing (actually, for all I know, it was nothing. I didn’t see him until he was in the murky water, at which point the question of what he was or was not wearing remained blissfully unanswered), and jumped into the water.

I decided to just get my feet wet, and that felt nice, so I went to take one slimy, slippery step further and went down into the mud. Poor Abdul was mortified, because I, of course, was still wearing all of my clothes. I got out of the water much dirtier than when I went in, made Abdul (after he was dressed) fetch me some bottles of river water so I could wash my legs off, and then changed into some pants behind another bush by the car. Fortunately, the rest of me dried out quickly in the oven of a car.

After continuing on our way, we stopped at Yarkand to see some not particularly interesting tombs. They were so boring that Abdul, having made me go there, promptly disappeared as soon as I went in, only to reappear with a live pigeon in his hands 15 minutes later. Then he sent me into the mosque built by someone famous many centuries ago, and when I came, out, he was nowhere to be found. I sat again, and waited, and he reappeared with TWO pigeons! “Just a minute,” he says, “I need to put these in the car.”

So, with the pigeons safely ensconced in the trunk of the 44 degree car, we head off to have lunch before finishing the trip back. Only remember that it is Ramadan, so all of the restaurants are closed until sunset. The only one we could find was very nice, and very busy with all of the people in town not fasting eating there. Abdul consults with the waitress. “OK, there’s no menu, because they only serve three things. Which do you want: Pigeon noodles, pigeon kebab, or pigeon soup?” I opted for the noodles. Abdul felt this was the wrong choice and also ordered us kebabs. Pigeon kebabs. They were actually pretty tasty, and better than the pigeon noodles as they had a better roasted flavor than the somewhat insipid noodles.

All in all, I feel like the camel trek was a success. I did not get bitten by bugs in the desert, I was only sunburned on the one arm facing the sun out of the car window, and my camel had two humps. To close, I feel like I remember singing this biologically inaccurate song as Children. Go, Alice, Go!