Above, after the sand dune ride, tourists stand around, watching the setting sun. Below left, a lady painter gets to work on a guest’s hands. PHOTOs BY Eunice Rukundo.
In Summary
There are no words to capture the feeling of standing atop sand dunes in the desert, seemingly so close to the sky that one imagines they could stretch out a hand and touch the evening sun as it drifts away behind the horizon. Eunice Rukundo drank in the sights and sounds of Dubai and now brings you the story.
Nothing could have prepared me for the evening I spent in Dubai’s Lehbab Desert. On the tour programme, it was recorded as sundowner Dune Dinner safari, so I figured we would take a ride through the hot sandy desert, eat dinner and then be back. Boy was I wrong! The half day I spent in the deserts of Dubai turned out to be the most fun I have had in a while.
See, what the programme did not detail was that we would be treated to an Adrenaline-evoking drive through the desert dunes, an Arabic style buffet under the stars at a camp set in the desert, and belly dancing, among other activities. Dubai has somehow managed to create a world of fun out in the desert, it is no wonder one of the most sought after destination by tourists.
So, for about $110 (Shs380,000) per person, tourists are treated to an evening of dune driving, camel rides, henna hand painting and aromatic shisha, belly dancing and an Arabic buffet with select beverages at the Bedouin-style camp in the desert.
The ride to the desert took 45 minutes, longer than I had expected, but it was an enlightening addition to my safari. As we drove out of the city centre and the desert started to roll out in front of us, I noticed that the sand seemed to change colours. “Oh yeah. There are about 78 colours of sand in the desert because each area is at a different state,” our driver and guide for the day, Alboruge Priyantha Mervyn Dabare, tried to explain. I don’t really think I understood what he meant, but I nodded anyway. “You know the whole of Dubai used to be a desert like this before it was transformed into city status,” offered Dabare, the driver.
He showed us the houses now occupied by nationals, given to them by the United Arab Emirates government. “The government looks after its people from oil money but everyone still has to work. Most of them are farmers or camel herders.”
We drove past patches of trees which Dabare said were forest reserves. As it turned out, nothing happens in Dubai by accident; there is a deliberate effort to grow every shrub you see in the sand, nurture and preserve every animal and indeed attract visitors to their sights. By the time we got to the desert camp, I understood why everyone seemed to want to visit Dubai; because the government makes a deliberate effort to attract foreigners.
Conquering the sand dunes
As we went up the sand dunes, one of the four people I rode with, Carol, screamed and squeezed my hand so hard I think my pulse stopped for a bit. “Ooooooh my Good! Oh oh oh…! When does this stop? It’s like I’m having a baby?” she screamed the whole time, exhaling like she was actually in labour. And she was not exaggerating. Riding the sand dunes is as good as wrestling the rapids in white water rafting.
When the convoy of four-wheel drives set off for the sand dunes, none of us thought anything of it, until we made our way up the first sand dune. A sand dune is a little sand hill, which does not seem so little when you have to drive up one. First of all, the sand does not exactly hold still when you drive through it so it is a rough drive. Then, on your way up one, you cannot see what is the other side so you don’t actually know how steep your ride down will be. So, every time we went up one, Carol would scream, “Oh my God, let there be sand on the other end,” and the rest of us would hold on tight and break into screams and giggles of excitement.
But I trusted that Dabare, our driver and guide from Arabian Adventures, knew what he was doing so I relaxed and enjoyed the exhilarating ride. “Oh, we are all trained to drive through the dunes,” he said, reaching for his radio call to communicate to the rest of the convoy that he was held back by a case of motion sickness, which was me. Yes, I did leave half my guts in the sand but that did not stop me from enjoying the thrill. Each time, Dabare just handed me a waste bag and reminded me to keep out of the tyre trucks in the sand in case another car came over the sand dune through the same tracks. “Next time take motion sickness medicine before you come out here; you will be more comfortable so you can enjoy yourself,” advised Dabare.
Oh, but I did enjoy myself. And there will be a next time, for which I will be better prepared.
The dinner and belly dancers
When the ride was over, all the vehicles parked somewhere so we could watch the sun go down. It was like you could reach out and touch the sun, yet it was so cold. It was around 6pm by then and you could practically see the sun hide away behind the horizon. We watched the sun and tried to capture it with our cameras as we saw it but no one could quite capture the feeling it gives you standing atop a sand dune so close to the sun away from the stressful world as we know it. It is like being in another world, another life.
This is also a good time to try and capture the experience on the camera, so we got playing, running up the dunes, jumping and positioning ourselves just in front of the setting sun before snapping away with our cameras and selfie sticks. It was nice just letting go and being playful there for a while, before setting off for dinner.
A ride of 10 minutes or less ushered us into a camp in the middle of the desert, with Arabian style rugs laid out under shades. There were tea points, wine and soft drinks, shisha and bonfire points. There were food points and away in the corner, a lady who patiently but expertly painted our hands with henna flowers.
After securing a spot, we dumped our bags, kicked off our shoes and set off exploring the camp. There is nothing complicated about the setting here. Just sitting out in the night eating and drinking from under the stars makes the experience worthwhile. In that moment, there is no worry in the world.
When we were concluding our meal about two hours after we arrived at the camp, Arabian music poured through a small radio nearby and a belly dancer appeared on the small mount laid out in the middle of the camp. All the ladies seemed to pull out their cameras while the men focused like they were going to be examined from the dance.
She did a good job, especially because she seemed to do it effortlessly. We were later told that all Arabian women are taught to dance from a young age, in preparation for the wifely duties. I did not ask how dancing translated into wifely duties but I figured it was akin to the training a paternal aunt gives her nieces in Buganda.
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