As I gunned the Land Cruiser over the crest of a large dune, sand spraying in a wide arc behind me, I suddenly realized what I was doing: dune-bashing. How was it that I found myself following a Bedouin driver racing through the undulations of the Wahiba Sands and, moreover, enjoying it? The adrenaline rush cooled a bit when, getting cocky – “hey, I can do this desert driving thing” – I found myself stuck in a patch of soft sand and had to be rescued by the guide. But the sunset awaiting me at the top of the next dune more than made up for my moment of humiliation. I just hoped that I would make it back to camp unscathed… *** I think for most people the dominant image they have of the Arabian
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