We had to get everything we needed for the morning off the truck before Kel and Ben headed off into the distance with the first instalment of camel riders, leaving nine of us to look after camp. We were sitting soaking up the sun when Abdullah the moped man wheeled up and told us he had 18 camels on the way. We explained that we had booked and wanted two times nine shifts, one morning and one afternoon, and he said, "Okay," and rode away again. The first instalment of riders then returned from La Source saying a man was coming with 18 camels and we all had to go together. Confusion reigned as we worked out who would stay behind to look after the site and all our gear. The camels then arrived - 10 of them, so we were back to two shifts!
The first group of riders were gone for two hours, and the rest of us moved our stools from shade to sun before starting to prepare lunch. We finished in time to climb aboard our ships of the desert: pale and woolly camels that were very well trained - my mount stopped instantly when I accidentally dropped the reigns. It was warm in the sun - such a change from recent weather - but too breezy for a hat. The Tuareg camel men started a wailing chant up front and behind us, the rocking motion and singsong chorus of voices almost hypnotic.
But after only one hour we found ourselves back at camp where the Tuaregs settled around a small fire to wait for Kelvin to return to pay them, quite happy for us to take lots of photographs. We chatted all afternoon, getting very pink T-shirt lines while the camel men lolled on the ground and hobbled camels grazed on fallen trees. As the afternoon wore on we started to look out for the truck, like castaways on an island scanning the horizon for a rescue ship, and when it eventually rolled into view we waved and bent our knees in unison like a bunch of chorus girls.
Having learned of our shorter, second ride, Kelvin confronted Abdullah, who promptly demanded 1400 dinar, despite having earlier agreed on 650 dinar. In French, the conversation relayed to us second-hand, he said that he had left Tam (Tamanrasset) at 5.30 that morning and it took him five hours to reach us. Then, suddenly, the camel men departed with their animals to get the gendarmes.
We sat around discussing Abdullah’s greed and two faced-ness, particularly galling as we’d driven him and his moped into town and he’d seen so friendly. It was all we discussed for ages around the fire, making up more and more outrageous stories, about us all being carted off to jail and getting criminal records for not paying for a camel ride.
We calculated that if it took five hours to get to us it would take 5 to get to the gendarme so they could not get back to us until 11 PM. But surprise, surprise: three hours later gendarmes arrived, and confiscated all our passports, telling us we could collect them tomorrow morning. Couldn’t believe the goings on but couldn’t do anything about it either; soured what had been a fun day.
Late in the evening, Jim asked for a piece of bread to toast on the fire and Vicki reluctantly gave him one. Jim, Geoff and I then hid four more pieces of bread and a jar of peanut butter until Bob and Julie went to bed. We enjoyed a delicious late-night snack around a few square centimetres of coals, the night air smelling of toast.
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