I had arrived in Timbuktu shaken but not stirred. Shaken by the incessant jarring and juddering of the road, unmoved by what I saw on arrival. There can be few names as evocative and few places that are as disappointing.

I was so disappointed that I literally jumped onto a camel and headed west into the sunset. And what a sunset. The dying embers of the sun washed the horizon in a warm orange glow that gave a fiery richness to the palette of colours above. These began with most delicate of pale blues darkening into the inky depths of indigo, punctuated only by the brilliance of a lone, large bright star. Adding depth and poignancy to the exquisiteness of this canvas, was the quiet stillness and calm of the desert.





The sun set, swiftly as its fashion in Africa, cloaking us in darkness. All I could see in front of me was the shadowy figure of Sandy who guided us unerringly through the rolling dunes.

The comforting, flickering glow of fire heralded our arrival at Sandy's home. A small charcoal burner, a silver tray, a small metal teapot and a couple of shot glasses were brought out and without a word, Sandy began to prepare tea.

Once the first pot was finished, Sandy rinsed out the glasses for a second brew, careful not to spill any water.
"You are trying not to waste water?"
"No. There is a pump over there."
"Then why are you saving all the old water, not throwing it on the sand?"
"When the sand becomes damp or wet it attracts insects, beetles and scorpions."

I had much to learn about life in the desert.

Our conversation continued into the night discussing the price of goats and camels. Meanwhile the passage of stars continued silently overhead.

In the morning I awoke nervous that perhaps the darkness had hidden a multitude of sins and that my romantic notions had got the better of me.




Thankfully, my surrounds were as magical as I had imagined them in the twilight gloom. The women were 'faire la cuisine', the men prostrating themselves in prayer and the children rearranging the camel saddles into position and then mounting them and rocking them into a gallop and an imaginary race.






A new day had dawned in the life of this Tuareg family and I felt privileged to be a part of it, which is more than can be said for Timbuktu.

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