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Published: December 9th 2005
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After a remarkably comfortable night's sleep, with only a cold nose and ears to indicate the low temperatures that had been reached, I heard someone banging on a pan at about 6:45AM. In my half-awake state, I took this as a signal to turn over and snooze for another 15 minutes, but unfortunately it was meant to indicate that sunrise was imminent and we should get out of our tents ASAP. So I missed sunrise, but Kesh said it was less spectacular than the sunset had been. Breakfast consisted of a freshly cooked omelette with some chai, and at about 10AM Andy, Kesh, and I said our goodbyes to Susan and Steve, who were staying out in the desert for another day.
One of the camel carts was emptied and all our bedding thrown in, which we then sprawled on and the journey home began. I sat at the front, next to the driver, which was ground zero as far as emissions from the business end of the camel were concerned. Purely for scientific reasons, it was interesting to note that camel farts are synchronised with the motion of the camel, so that each step forward produces another little parp
until the entire fusillade has been completed. Though the camel was quite happy to amble along, the driver was more keen on pushing the pace, and he only needed to raise his whip (actually a sorry little branch) for the camel to catch the motion out of the corner of its eye, and put on a canter for the next minute or so. Back at the original pick-up point (where I spotted the tout from a couple of days ago heading out on another Vijay safari), we were Jeep-ed back to Vijay's, and from there I returned to the Meghsar Castle.
I would like to state that the safari was excellent fun, and I'm sure that it will be one of the highlights of my entire trip. After being at close quarters with them for a day, I'm now a big camel fan.
Despite slapping on (what I had thought was) a ton of Factor 30, and wearing a hat and sunglasses, on looking in the mirror I realised that I would not look out of place on Brighton beach with a knotted handkerchief on my head. I also had a dull ache in my lower back, which
I investigated when I took a much-needed shower. It turned out that, where the two halves of the full moon join, so to speak, I was suffering from an acute case of what the medical literature might call gluteus maximus rupturus, no doubt as a result of my dry skin and the camel riding. Hopefully my Boots antiseptic cream is designed for precisely this sort of problem.
The hotel owner told me a story about "camel's revenge". Apparently camels, like elephants, have very long memories and, if mistreated, will remember the perpetrator for years. If the chance arises to get their own back, they will strike. The method of choice is to remove the top half of the person's head with one swift bite. I felt that my treatment of Rozi was exemplary, so I'm assuming I won't meet my maker in that way.
A wedding procession stopped outside of the hotel this evening, playing some thunderously loud music. The groom (on a horse) and guests (in their finery) apparently journey from his house to the bride's house, stopping whenever they feel like it for a bit of a boogie. Music is provided by what appears to be
a mobile DJ booth, and several of the guests carry portable electric lights. Every so often, booming fireworks are let off. Unfortunately I couldn't get any decent photos, but it was quite a spectacle.
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