Yeah I know these are just a bunch of pictures of sand. Sorry. I thought the Sahara was beautiful.
I was traveling by my lonesome through the town of Ouarzazate with designs on making it into the desert when I was approached at a bus station by a most obviously indigenous dude. Admittedly I know how to be a smartass, but this man absolutely would not leave me alone until I divulged my entire travel itinerary to him. I finally (sternly) told him that, “Yes, I am going to the Sahara, but sorry, I will not hire you as a guide until I get there and assess my options.” He deemed this an unsatisfactory gameplan.
Luckily, a group of English gap year kids got on our bus right as it was about to take off, and my man proposed to me (he was sitting next to me on the bus – imagine that) that if I could convince them all to use him as their tour guide that he would take me along free of charge. Honestly I was more enthused by the opportunity to say, “Okay, back off, let me work on them” than I was by the prospect of a free ride, but in the end I got them to come along so everyone was happy.
Once the bus arrived at the last town before the desert, we all loaded into the guide’s van and set sail. One of his friends showed up later at their “campsite” (these guys were Berber nomads) with some camels for us to ride around on, and together they made us dinner and afterwards played traditional Berber songs on their makeshift drums while we gazed up at the pristine sky full of stars. This was especially baller for me as the guide and his friend had privately smoked me out with some Moroccan hash in exchange for scoring them some extra clients, so in return I went ahead and paid them anyway as they dropped me off back in town the following day.