Page 30 of Under the Arabian Sky

As soon as her back legs were standing, Habibi’s front half rose, throwing me backward with so much force I almost fell head over tail off the back of the beast.

Somehow, I managed to hold onto the saddle for dear life.

Once Habibi was on all four feet, I let out a sigh of relief while the young camel gave a grunt. I wasn’t sure whether she was pleased or disappointed that I hadn’t fallen off. Either way, I was happy to be up on the camel and not face-down in the desert sand with a broken nose… for now, at least.

“Well done,” Tariq smiled.

“Did I do okay?”

Tariq shrugged. “I’ve seen worse.” He strapped the falcon cage and his medical bag to Huda’s saddle, then tied a rope to Habibi’s reins and held onto it as he mounted Huda with the grace and ease of an expert. Once Huda was on her feet, Tariq turned back in his saddle. “I’ll lead Habibi along with this rope. You don’t need to touch the reins at all. Just hold onto the saddle. And whatever you do, don’t fall off. It’s a long way down.”

* * *

Tariq’s family home was on the edge of town, which meant the transition from hilly roads to desert dunes was swift despite the slow, rocky gait of the camels.

As the fierce sun beat down on us, we crossed over the crest of three sets of dunes and when I looked back, our view of the city of Muscat had vanished. It was as though the desert had simply made it disappear, swallowed by the sand that sailed off the top of the dunes, moving constantly with the wind.

Out here it was hot… yet there was a sense of utter peace and tranquillity.

As far as the eye could see there was nothing but yellow.

Nothing but dunes.

Nothing but desert.

I reached for the camera around my neck only to realise— “Shit!”

Tariq turned back. “Is everything okay?”

“I forgot my camera.”

“Probably a good thing. I imagine it would have flung off your neck when Habibi climbed to her feet. It would no doubt have ended up in a thousand pieces on the ground.”

“You have a point.”

Tariq laughed, then turned back to steer Huda onward.

I watched the movement of his frame, rolling and reeling from side to side as his camel made her way across the desert. There was something mesmerising, almost hypnotic about the lazy lurch and loll of the beast’s movement. My own body had even fallen into rhythm with Habibi’s stride by now, like being on a boat as it swayed gently with the motion of the ocean, or a train rocking along the tracks, or a baby in a softly swinging cradle.

Beneath his kandura, I could make out the flex and folds of Tariq’s back muscles.

I could see the patches of perspiration that wet his garment and made the fabric cling to the contours of his skin.

There was something voyeuristic and serene and sensuous about that ride into the desert; as though the sands were surrendering more secrets than I ever imagined. I was as far from my leaky office in Oxford as I could possibly be… and I liked it.

In front of me, Tariq pointed to something on the horizon and turned back to look at me. “Up ahead is the ruins of an old fort. There is a well there with drinking water for the camels. We’ll stop there.”

The closer we came to the old fort, the more I could see its ruined shape.

It was set on rocky ground, an old mud and clay structure with a half-fallen tower and a small cluster of buildings with most of their walls crumbling or missing altogether. The sand had reached high on the windward side of the fort. I wondered how many times the desert had tried to consume this small, ancient citadel, yet there it stood, a survivor of time and the blazing sun and the hungry landscape that surrounded it.

Tariq rode Huda through the decayed arch that stood as an entrance to the fort, towing Habibi and I along behind him.

He led us to a courtyard covered by old wooden crossbeams, with a large well in the centre of it. The internal space provided enough shade to offer us immediate relief from the intense heat.

Tariq gave Huda a command in Arabic and the camel knelt, going down on its front legs first, then its hind legs.

Again demonstrating ease and expertise, Tariq dismounted his camel and stepped toward Habibi and I. “Now remember to hold on tight.”

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