Day 4: déjà vu, and sand 

Hello. It’s today, déjà vu. Our landscape today was the same as yesterday, so I could just put a link to yesterday’s blog and save myself time. BUT, today we had new jokes, and drama.

I slept in late, until almost 7am. The rummaging of my fellow campers wakes me. I haven’t stayed outside yet, as I am taking care of my eyes, although they’ll be closed when I’m asleep. No logic.

I was lent some ski goggles today, so anyone who spoke to me from now on wouldn’t have any idea of the facial expression I would be returning. Especially as I had dressed my whole face in Shamla. I was too nervous to wear my lenses, so I was double bagging my eyes with glasses AND the ski goggles.

 

 

PS I WILL poop in a hole, but I will NEVER get used to it, just saying.

So, after some important photography of my outfit (again, hideous), we set off, and I was the ski goggle idiot. But that’s my fault for disobeying the kit list. To add to the kit delights, I fashioned some gaiters from old, hacked about socks, and I grabbed my walking poles. A dick I looked.

The gaiters failed on the first dune.

So, again my foot walked on a bed of sand. What’s worse, a wet boot or a sandy boot? I will ponder this.

We walked, and walked, and walked, again. I had a blister, but only when I wasn’t chatting. Regardless of this, my feet were taped up at lunchtime. And my eyes feel better ish, woo hoo.

We slowly approached our lunch camp, and wolfed down the mixed buffet. I am avoiding bread today, as it’s dislodging my backpack straps. We had an hour and a half for lunch. Darren told us stories about other (less fun) tour groups, we liked this.

 

 

The afternoon was long, arduous and full of celebrity name games, and the unique A-Z of things you would do at a wedding.

Then, SHIT GOT REAL.

First, Audrey was riding the camel. Her blister is oozing everything but charisma. Disaster struck as young Michael then collapsed, as we watched from afar, the groups were split, the leaders cantered across the desert. We were left on a ridge, a sandstorm begun, we narrowly escaped. Then my eyes got tired, we ran to a tree, I lay in the recovery position, it was all rather dramatic.

We carried on, Michael and Audrey on the camel train, my stumbling over rocks as my eyes slowly closed again. We reached camp, and there was a medical tent set up, it was like an episode of a Holby City. I withered into the corner, not even able to do the stetch class. I then joined Michael in the sick bay, where he was eating a tray of biscuits.

At this point, we all realised how harsh and dangerous the desert could be; blisters, heatstroke, dehydration, UV protection..

Becky the doc flushed my barely opening eyes and put in some ointment, leaving my eyes bandaged for the evening. I then had to be led to wee, and to have my food cut up for me, I was also told that everyone had mooned at my face.

My eyes had relaxed by later that evening and I joined the others outside for the camp fire, and I had a contraband pancake round the back. The lads did shadow dancing in the kitchen tent, and Andy did a dance off with the crew. His arms seemed to have a mind of their own.